Author's note: This is just something I've had sitting on my computer for a while, and I'd thought I'd post it to see what happened. I don't know if I will keep going, that depends on you guys. Review if you want me to keep going.

Disclaimer: I do not own the enchanting world of the Hobbit, no matter how much I try to get to Fili with magic.


"No. No, no, no and if you haven't gotten the point yet, no."

I looked at the crazy wizard that wanted me to go on some suicidal quest with a bunch of suicidal dwarfs to reclaim some stupid mountain. "I'm not risking my life for some dumb dwarf that cannot let go of the past. My momma always told me that if something is lost and the chance of finding it is smaller the chance of getting it back, I should let it go. And I have followed that rule ever since she first thought it to me. So again, no."

The crazy wizard, who's name is Gandalf the Grey, looked at me with that stupid look of his, the look that made people feel like shit and agree to whatever it was that they had refused before. "Surely you would reconsider, Skylark. Your talent of slipping out of the most sticky situations relatively unharmed could be a priceless asset in our quest. Of course, you would be compensated for your trouble."

I wasn't buying it. No one was stupid enough to expect a dwarf, even worse a dwarf prince, to willingly give a thief any gold, no matter how much said thief had helped them. And I knew that, which was why I was still not 'reconsidering', even if the promise of dwarfish gold sounded appealing. And besides, it would mean going through the Great Greenwood, now called the Mirkwood, which I heard earned it's name with it's giant spiders, deadly rivers and misleading lights. The rumors say that anybody who strays of the path is never seen again. And even those that didn't stray would most likely not be heard of again.

But still... The thought of basically free gold tempted me like a bee to honey. I could do just enough to stay alive and then steal whatever is was that Gandalf wanted me to steal. "How much gold?" I asked. Gandalf smiled and I cursed myself for falling in his trap. "Not just gold, my dear Skylark, but jewels and some mithril maybe too." He said, his eyes twinkling all the while. Jewels... tempting, very tempting. I did so like me jewels, especially emeralds and sapphires. Rubies too. And mithril? Well, a pair mithril daggers would be nice. My old ones aren't in the best of shape, despite the care I take of them. I had had them since my eleventh birthday and I was seventeen now. I fingered my short hair and finally said "Fine, but if things get too deadly, I'm bailing. Deal?" Gandalf looked a bit disappointed that I wasn't going to risk my ass for complete strangers, but agreed. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of how I joined the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.

_- o -_

"Is Thorin okay with having a girl in his Company?" I asked Gandalf. We were traveling towards a place called the Shire and since the little house I lived in is even farther away from the Blue Mountains, which was where the dwarfs were coming from, there seemed to be no point in making them travel even further away from their- our ultimate destination. We were staying one night at the house of a friend of Gandalf, whom I was hoping was actually expecting us, since Gandalf was so annoying when he just barged into my house without even a hour's warning.

But as I was thinking, Gandalf had finished his calculated the answer to my question. "He knows I'm bringing a girl with me to the Shire, but he doesn't know that you are joining the Company." I whipped my head around to look at Gandalf in disbelief. "He doesn't know I'm joining!?" I shrieked.

He looked at me annoyed at the high pitched sound, but I was to busy thinking about the consequences of his words. Thorin Oakenshield didn't know I was joining the Company. I may not know a lot about him, but I knew that anybody wouldn't like it if some weird young girl turns up saying she was going to join in a dangerous quest to save their long lost home and gold. When I got of this blasted horse, I was going to kill Gandalf. Seemingly oblivious to my homicidal thoughts, he was smoking that stupid pipe of his.

I hate smoke of any kinds but the smoke of burning pine wood. Which was why my little home was built in the middle of a pine forest. So that in the winter, I had plenty of pine wood to burn. There was also a lot of wildlife in the forest, so I had enough to eat. I hunted using a small bow, a sling and some snares, but my main weapon were my daggers.

I had about fifteen small daggers hidden on my body at all times and two bigger ones, about the size of my forearm. The handles were worn into the shape of my hand and the blades were crumbling a bit. My trusty daggers were falling apart and I desperately needed a new pair. Which was one of the reasons I was going on this suicide mission. If I succeeded in stealing whatever it was that needed to be stolen, I was going to go looking for a pair of mithril daggers in that legendary Vault of Erebor. I'm sure they had a pair lying around and I was going to get it and my part of the treasure. At least that was the plan. But with my luck, plans are not really useful, since they usually went wrong. But I was going to hope that this one was going to succeed anyway.

I really shouldn't have bothered.