Chapter 1 (Kili)
The first time I see her, she looks all kinds of extraordinary. She is not from our world, that much is certain, even before I can begin to examine what this fact actually means. There is something quite – off – about her. Although she is human, not creature, she does not seem entirely real. A hallucination maybe, although how my mind could fathom such a thing is anyone's guess. The hallucination girl is tall, the same height as me, little over 5 feet. Her eye level appears to match quite evenly with mine. She is thin too, much too thin for any inhabitant of this world. It is the kind of thinness that comes from living apart from war, where muscle is by no means necessary, and I suppose being slim is a beauty. Her slight build makes everything seem sharper on her – collarbones defined, jaw angular, eyes bright. It should be an unattractive feature, for there is little feminine softness on her, but somehow this works in her favour. At least in my eyes, anyway.
But surely the hallucination girl would be found attractive on any earth. Her eyes, though they seem jarringly intense and dangerous, are a contrastingly rich and warm brown, pupil ringed with amber. They are unusually dark on her face, for her skin is ivory pale, and her hair a light gold tinged with red. Her lashes are recognizably dark as well – perhaps artificially – and are long and curling, grazing her eyelids as she widens her eyes. She is looking at me! Well, perhaps glaring would be a more accurate description. Her gaze is accusatory – as if she thinks it is my fault she has materialized here? You're a hallucination, I think, and you cannot blame your beholder for said apparition.
Perhaps what is more unusual than her strikingly pretty face is her choice of clothing. I wonder how she is not shivering, for it is winter here, and she bears no thick cloak or long skirt. Her dress! It is scandalously short, just above the knee, revealing fair legs and white boots laced with black, and although I cannot deny in the delight she should appear so deliciously exposed, I feel the hasty need to remove my eyes from that area immediately. The dress itself is white, with a floral pattern on it. Surprisingly delicate, in fact. I see little of what the bodice or sleeves look like, for a faded blue shirt has been almost carelessly tossed about her shoulders. She also carries some sort of pack over her shoulder, material of which I can recognize as soft brown leather. This is perhaps the only item on her person I do not see as foreign.
She is a foreigner herself, really.
She does not appear friendly.
"Who the fuck are you? Where am I? What..what is this..who? How?"
Her voice is like air, far too pretty and high pitched for someone so fierce, or for someone with such common language. It is a princess's voice, but she snarls like a wanted outlaw. The sound is strange from those pretty pink lips of hers.
I decide now to be a good time to introduce myself, common courtesy taking over my shock and confusion, and the fear rooted somewhat in me that there is black magic involved. No, I will not think on that.
I see her falter a bit when she hears my name, and my confession that I know little more than her of what has happened, but am willing to help. It is now that I see the wildness in her eyes – she is hunted, like a doe taking down an arrow. I feel the sudden urge to calm us both, and almost involuntarily reach out a gentle hand to her. She recoils, but it is with less malice and more just reflex. We are, after all, complete strangers.
"I won't hurt you," I promise, trying to sound sincere, though my voice cracks a little as she turns the potency of her gaze up. There is no angry confusion now, but there is hard acceptance and a degree of scrutiny as she sizes me up.
We can both feel it when she relaxes. She is still on her guard, I can feel the mistrust like a mist around us, but her stance becomes open and her fists unclench. Her features soften a little too, making her look less warrior princess, and more simply the latter of those two terms. I am unsure what else to say, so simply offer to guide her to where the rest of my company is. Little resistance is offered as she follows me, and I sneak glances at her every so often. The rest of the company are only a minute or two away so I walk slowly as to steal more time with her. I do not know what the rest of the company will think. Or say. Or what she will do in return.
And from the looks of her, she is full of surprises.
...
WARNING – quick author's note (you don't HAVE to read this)
This story circulates around the inexplicable arrival of a human girl from our society into the time and setting of The Hobbit. This is mainly movie-verse, and follows the essential storyline from Mirkwood onwards. I have been fairly sketchy about several details, including how my OC arrived there. This is because as I writer I much prefer to focus on characterization and the development of relationships between characters, and as a reader, I also enjoy reading writing that does not waste too much time discussing logistical detail. If you do not agree with the way I have written the story, feel free to review and say what you think, but be aware I have no intention of changing the layout or style of my writing, as this is a story written mainly to cure my own boredom, and I only decided to post it on here because I thought maybe a few others could get some enjoyment out of it as I have.
POV is split between Kili and my OC.
Rated M mainly for later chapters, the story starts innocently enough, but darker material is inevitable. Will contain graphic sex (het only, no slash), coarse language, adult themes, and references to mental disorders, self-harm, suicidal behavior, violence, incest, and probably other scary things ;)
All characters belong to the genius Tolkien, except for my OC.
I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes that may have escaped my knowledge and attempts at proof reading.
Hope you enjoy! Or rather, I hope you won't hate me…or my story :O