RE: I own nothing but the small sub plot and my OCs, the rest of it is are works of Tolkien and the 'The Hobbit' films

Hi all,

Thank you for clicking on my Fanfiction. I'm proud to present yet another 'The Hobbit' fanfiction and I hope you enjoy it.

Please nothing but constructive criticism, I can deal with someone being blunt but I don't need to deal with rudeness.

Also, as usual my chapters are what I would consider long (at around 5,000 words each) and I'm planning for there to be fluff and some angst… although I hate too much angst so I'll keep a skeptical eye on how much of that there is.

This fanfiction isn't completely based on the events of The Hobbit, as in, I'll probably extend it past the events.

And lastly, my OC is Stasi. I just need to say that this Fanfiction is not one of those where the real story behind it is the OC's relationship with whomever she falls in love with. I want her to have people she likes that aren't just her 'beloved'. As in, there'll be heavily detailed relationships with a lot of characters. Just starting out I'm going to mention Nori, Bofur and Gandalf.

Anyways, this is a romance fic, I love romance, don't judge ;-). It's specifically Fili x OC.

Loads of love and thank you if you read my A/N, Medusa101

-{}-{}-{}-

Chapter 1: I love dying

It was an unusually cold night, and frost had formed thickly on my windshield. I had spent half an hour wiping it off with my sleeve – which had come out soaked.

Beside me, my dog Remy had stirred with discomfort the whole time, he, unlike me had the comfort of a thick wool sweater… I mean, seriously my fat heavily furred dog had more protection against the cold than I did. What was the world coming too?

Then again, thinking back on it, he probably looked hilarious, so, at least there was some humor in the situation. Some. Not that much.

I let him into the car halfway through the ice removal process and he slid into the driver's seat, put his paw on the horn, and then let out a howl of shock when the horn actually 'honked'. I snorted when he fell over, and seconds later, he appeared back up within my line of sight, his snout pointed at the offending wheel and with a strangely human-like aghast look on his face.

When I had finished wiping the ice away (no thanks to Jack Frost… you may not believe in him but at this point I'd believe in anything), I pushed Remy back to the passenger seat and slowly drove out of the office block.

Honestly, crashing was the last thing on my mind when I pulled onto the highway and passed the beautiful scenery of shit-filled cow pastures.

It had been a long day at the office, and Robert, the man who completely refused to leave me alone had hit on me the whole time. And let me tell you, if ugly had a sister it'd be him. And yes, I meant to say sister.

Anyway, my mind was on one thing and one thing only. Watching a very cheesy chick flick and eating a bucket of ice cream. And I mean a whole bucket of ice cream.

Yeah, I never really got there.

The frost had been real frost (obviously) because somehow, the car slid. Straight under a moving semi, and next thing I knew the world had gone black.

-{}-{}-{}-

I was shocked when my Mom had presented me with the present. She was there in the doorway of my house looking as beautiful as ever, and in her arms was clutched a small floppy and wrinkly puppy.

"Holy shit."

Possibly not my best reaction but my Mom was used to it. In fact, I was similar enough to her, (although more like my Dad but I wouldn't know, I had never really met him, so she had just always told me that) to have the same abrupt and pretty funny reactions, jokes and sarcasm.

"'Holy'... yes, 'Shit'... not really, but I wanted to give you your very own puppy," she said handing off the dog to me.

He was a small clumsy looking thing with a fawn colored coat, a pushed in snout and so far, a heavy amount of drool that was already collecting over my arms (I swear he was a literal slime machine). His paws were massive and the first thing he did when he was settled in my arm was let out a smelly fart.

"Oh… oh god…" I wrinkled my nose as the smell faded and my Mom closed the door behind her a slightly sheepish look on her face.

"Yeah, I think he got gas in the car, I'm not gonna lie."

"No shit… euugh," we moved to the couch as the puppy began exploring and biting at my hoodie – thus leaving slobber trails that smelled suspiciously of bananas, "so… what is he, is he a mutt or a purebred?"

"He's a pure bred… and he was expensive so be careful with him," she said, "he's a Dogue de Bordeaux."

"Oh… what's that?"

My Mom's eyes were wide with her typical excited but nervous expression and I raised an eyebrow at her, "They're a French mastiff," she explained, "the owner said that they're good guards."

I smiled as the puppy pointed his face into mine and blinked owlishly as if memorizing every feature I had, "How big is he gonna get?" I asked, a smile growing over my face.

"Big."

I glanced to her, a sudden suspicious look on my face, "you took into account the fact that I live in an apartment right?" I asked.

She opened her mouth and then closed it again,"... Yeah, I'm not going to lie, I hadn't really thought about it."

I shot her a look, feeling slightly desperate. I could by no means keep some huge Mastiff of a dog in an apartment this size, anyway, my job kept me pretty busy. Glancing down again to the puppy I found his eyes staring like embers into mine, he wasn't begging but at that moment I found myself realizing that there was no way I was going to give this dog away.

And glancing into the hopeful gaze of my mother, I found my assumptions further affirmed, "I'm going to keep him Mom but I'll need some help."

Then, she smiled. And let me tell you something, my Mom's smile is literally the most beautiful thing ever. Actually, in general, my mother is the most beautiful thing ever… but, her smile might just top that. She looked so different compared to me. Her eyes were a soft brown and her hair fell in waves to her shoulders. She had cut bangs on her forehead and her eyebrows were perfectly thin and arched. When she smiled, I think stars erupted everywhere, her beauty was completely unmatchable and while I was pretty much comfortable with how I looked, it was nothing compared to Mom

"I love you so much sweet-pea and always, always will I help you," she said reaching out and grabbing my hand, "just like you help me every day."

When I looked in her eyes I saw the deep sadness in them that was a rare thing on her permanently happy face. I myself was saddened but squeezing her hand I smiled, and as if I had squeezed the unhappiness away, so it faded.

Wait… I wonder how big his shits will get?

-{}-{}-{}-

My head hurt so much when I woke up I was honestly sure there was some loony in my head with a sledgehammer that was just waiting to be throttled.

The accident. That was the first thing that popped in my head, and then; okay, maybe there's no loony in my head… moving on.

The next thing that came rather obvious was that I couldn't lift my head and that I was literally inhaling dirt. I let out a hoarse cough and started jerking… which worked surprisingly enough and whatever had been laying on me moved off of my head.

Rolling over I spat out leaves and other things of similar nature, and seconds later the familiar face of Remy came into view, his muzzle and nose snuffling at my face. He smelled like dog. How surprising.

"Geroff you twat," I scolded jokingly, pushing his head away and standing up.

The moment I did that, the whole world swayed. For a second, I felt like vomiting, and leaning on my knees I blinked rapidly taking in deep breaths as I urged the nausea away. And when I stood to my full height I slowly realized why I had been so dizzy. I was tiny.

Now, Remy stood to a shoulder height of about 28 inches and normally I would be around three feet and a few inches taller than him. But now I was only two feet taller than him. To say that Remy looked shocked would be an understatement. His muzzle had wrinkled up almost as if he was growling and his brow had furrowed, his head tipped to the side and a slime of drool had... actually that wasn't part of his confused expression, the drool was normal.

So, he stared at me in shock for approximately 5 seconds before taking a long suspicious sniff, stepping forward and letting out a bark of desperation. And then, I promptly fainted.

Which is the smart thing to do, obviously.

-{}-{}-{}-

Whack.

One of the things most people are aware of is the fact that waking a 'someone' up by hitting them upside the head does not equal a happy 'someone'. And no, I was by no means a happy someone.

Whatever had hit me was hard, and it hurt. My first thought was, please let Remy attack the idiot. When there was no further sounds of snarls or growls I opened my eyes and let my gaze travel up, up and up. First, my eyes were met with thick grey woolly booted feet, then a sort of grey tunic, and then, the offending object that had been used to hit me, a long stick. As I looked further up I began to feel smaller and smaller until my gaze finally stopped at a face.

And then I realized that I, was actually very young… the man was wrinkled and aged with weathered skin, a thick brow and creases below his eyes and on his forehead. Upon his chin was a grizzled old beard and I was able to see matching hair. His nose was thick and large as were his eyebrows, and below those bushy brows were a pair of eyes that were a soft and shiny blue.

It was then that I realized that the man did not end with a head as such, but instead, sitting upon the crown of his hairline sat a long but crooked hat that matched the grey of his tunic. This hat had a pointed tip and the brow was perfectly round and it cast a shadow upon his features.

There were several things I should've done in that moment (1) backed away as he was quite close to me (2) asked him who he was (3)and stood up. But, instead, like your normal idiot, I continued to gape.

"Do get up from there, I don't have all day and I shan't stay in such a place," he said at an pace that astounded me, how his old wrinkled face managed to move so quickly was shocking, "We are much too far outside of the borders of the Shire to be safe, and to leave a stray maiden... let alone a Fairy maiden would be unsafe."

You see, a lot of times, when a person is in a state of shock, they don't act rationally, and me, who was very much in a state of shock stood to her feet and followed the tall straight backed old man away from the clearing I had laid in. Slowly as I followed him, questions began to seep into my mind.

Where were we? Why was I hear? Why was I so short... and where the hell was Remy? Also… where was the nearest McDonalds?

"You are not a quiet thinker."

I jumped a little at his words before stilling, "I can hear you biting your nail... which is most unbecoming of a lady might I add... and you seem to be feeling rather uncomfortable," he said, continuing to speak quickly, while puffing a pipe that seemed to come from nowhere.

Someone's perceptive.

I opened my mouth and closed it again, then, a fiery spark of indignation shot through me, "who are you? Where am I? Why am I so small and where, where is Remy? Also, why did you wake me up by hitting me, that's just rude."

The man glanced back, amusement marring his weather beaten features as he sized my small form up and down, "You are much like your mother," he said before turning forwards, well someone just wasn't normal.

"My name is Gandalf the Grey, you are in Middle Earth, much more accurately, only a few kilometers from Bree and your change in size is due to the fact that you are a Dwarf... oh, and I have no idea whatsoever of who this Remy is," the… Gandalf the Grey wheezed slowly. He had a voice that was old, aged and airy with a nasally quality to it.

I took a second to process what the Wizard was saying, "Firstly... it's nice to meet you, my name is Stasi," I began (at least I hadn't forgotten the few manners I had), "secondly I don't know where Middle Earth or Bree is, thirdly I am not a Dwarf... I don't know why you'd think I'd be a Dwarf. That's kind of rude actually. Anyway; fourthly, Remy is my dog and he means everything to me."

The Wizard glanced back at me, a curious look on his face, "It would seem to me that your Mother never told you of Middle Earth, perhaps she knew not that you would live here? Tell me, are you sure you've never heard of Middle Earth?"

"Eh... erm... I mean, I've heard of Earth before and I've heard of the Middle East," I attempted, "is that at all helpful?"

He frowned glancing back at me, "Miss Stasi, you are of the race of Dwarf because many, many years ago, your mother lived in Middle Earth and fell in love with a Dwarf," he said, "she herself had been changed into a Dwarf but once her task was finished she was sent home."

"What do you mean sent home?" I asked suspiciously, the concept of what was happening was slowly dawning on me.

"You, Miss Stasi, are from an entirely different realm."

Good god I wanted to faint – and hit him – at that moment, but, I held it together. Pulling at my sleeves and scrunching my brows, I stared at Gandalf for a long moment before running through what I knew in my head.

I had gotten hit by a Semi-truck and I had woken up here. Maybe I was dreaming... was I in a coma? Not that I could tell really because, you see, here felt very real, in fact, I could smell the scent of pine, feel the ache of my head when Mr. Gandalf hit me (what a bully) and hear the sound of our feet on dried leaves.

So whatever was here and now was very real and I had no choice but to treat it as real life. That was my diagnosis… I mean conclusion.

Considering I had absolutely no idea where we were, I wasn't planning on scurrying away from the man any time soon because he seemed to know where we were going.

So, whether I believed him and trusted him or not was still out on the table, but there was no chance that I was suddenly going to leave him. I really wanted to hit him back.

What was really bugging me was the fact that he was saying that I was a Dwarf... and that my Mom had been a Dwarf... and that my Dad was a Dwarf. I never knew much about my Dad and I never questioned my Mom about him. I assumed she would talk about him in her own time, because I knew, I knew that the pain in her eyes was from him, and the most annoying thing was is that I wanted to be angry at him for it.

But I knew that she loved him, which meant by default I loved him too. Ahh, the joy and drama of family life.

Anyways I only got small passing comments from my Mom about my Dad, and it was in those moments that I realized that my Dad had brought her some happiness;

'You have his eyes'

'He was just as rude and grumpy as you Stasi... my god you're so much like him.'

'You're warriors you and he... and I'm just a worrier, how am I gonna survive with you getting into trouble all the time.'

'You remind me of him.'

'He did that too'

'He liked that just as much as you do sweet pea.'

Through myself I realize that my Dad brought her happiness, not that I was the happiness necessarily but when she said those things and when I looked in her eyes I could see the adoration and the affection she had for him… anyway, if he was so much like me who wouldn't have liked him?

"You said something about a task," I ventured to say, pulling myself away from thoughts about my Dad and pushing them away for later visits. "Do I have a task?"

Gandalf nodded, he had slowed so I could walk beside him, "I know little of why you are here but what has been shown to me by the Valar," he said, "all I know is you will dream of the future and you will prevent what had once been thought to be the inevitable. Your mother was charged with a similar task and she died trying, once that happened she was sent home as will you be. Although I fear you have little chance of surviving if you fail because sending you back to your home realm will be sending you to your death."

I glanced up at him, confusion in my gaze for a moment until I understood, "The crash."

"I know not what happened only that your body in which realm you have come from is on the brink of life and death," he said.

I allowed myself to think through what Mr. Gandalf was telling me. Apparently if this 'Valar' sent me home, I would die, meaning if I failed, I would die. Also meaning that the only way I could survive was by not failing, but that in turn meant that I would never go home… unless I asked… and then I would promptly die. Wow… there's a lot of dying in that.

"Wait… so I can't actually go home?" I asked, skepticism alive in my heated tone.

"No."

He was abrupt and to the point, and while it should've angered me that he had no sympathy for my situation, it didn't. Instead, I felt incredibly helpless and uncertain about what I could do. There was only one thing… okay, more than one thing I wanted.

I wanted to know where Remy was.

I wanted to go home, but, in turn…

I wanted to not die.

I wanted to know what was this task so I could at least be sure I would live…

Actually, I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to know…

Okay, so I was having a bit of a conundrum. See, I didn't want to stay in this realm… world… whatever the hell, I wanted to go home (and to McDonalds). But to go home, I'd have to not fail at some task which, although seemed logical, I didn't want to do things logically and I just wanted to skip the whole task thing and go home.

Also, how did Gandalf know if this 'Valar' would let me leave? They could be evil! I mean, they brought me here in the first place.

At the moment, I had two choices, ask questions or cry. I chose the first of the options, opting to cry when I wasn't around a strangely dressed man (and trust me, when I escaped Mr. Gandalf, there would be crying… lots), "I'm not a seer, so I can't be of much use."

"You will drink from the fountain of Galadriel and become a seer. Few are gifted with that, and most who are…" he paused and shuffled uncomfortably. "die once they have drunk," he said quickly.

I opened my mouth, closed my mouth and attempted at speaking, "…Wha… why does every single situation have to end with me having a fifty percent chance of dying?"

The wizard didn't answer my question.

"Once you become a seer you will stay with me, as the Valar have appointed me as your guardian," he said after a pause.

"What? No. I'm a grown woman, I don't need a guardian."

"Yes, but you also happen to be a grown woman who has absolutely no idea of what Middle Earth is and what it's like," he pointed out dryly, "in fact, you will be more blind and naïve than a child of Middle Earth."

I was slightly insulted but allowed the comment to pass, "Fine… but how do you know this 'Valar' will allow me to stay here?"

When he glanced back at me, his eyes were full of sadness and memories that threatened to spill, "They always, always give you a choice," he said before turning back.

I wondered why Gandalf seemed so affected by my question, but I chose not to ask him. I barely knew him, and at the moment, I was just coming to terms with the fact that he was real and 'Middle Earth' was my forever home.

"Oh, I'd almost forgotten," he said, "you see, Dwarves are not compatible to be seer's. But, a Fairy, a close relative of the Dwarf are."

"Okay… wait, first I was a Dwarf and now I'm a fairy?" I asked, my voice laced with anger.

"Don't be so vexed my girl, you are basically a Dwarf," he said, "anyhow, Dwarves don't come in your skin tone."

I closed my eyes slowly and took a deep breath in. Have you noticed that when someone tells you stop getting so annoyed… It doesn't really work. you get more annoyed? Yeah, that was one of those moments. Also, he hadn't even answered my question.

"Okay," I accepted rolling my eyes. Of course, I was still brimming with questions, but so far, I knew I was stuck here possibly for the rest of my life. I knew I had a task to accomplish, but to accomplish this task and to not die, I would have to drink from a fountain that would possibly kill me. Also, Remy was still missing, "also, my dog was here when I first woke up…"

"Ah, of course," Gandalf said, "I know not where he is but I assume he ran off when I came… will the dog not track you?"

"He's a mastiff they don't track… I never trained him to track anything," I snapped.

"It's a natural trait," Gandalf assured me. I wasn't assured.

But, nonetheless, I chose not to worry about Remy. He was smart, he'd find me somehow… hopefully. Instead I listened as Gandalf told me of Middle Earth, and holy shit I was shocked.

The first thing that I learned was that there were more than one humanoid creature unlike Earth. There were elves, human, Dunedain, Dwarves and Fae (me) and as he said, much more that he wouldn't bother speak about.

Next, I was told of what a Fae was exactly; a Fae, is just a creature appointed by the Valar with magical giftings. That's it. So I am a Dwarf.

He finished with that and I frowned suddenly.

"Is my Dad a Dwarf or a Fae?" I asked.

"A Dwarf."

I glanced up at him, wishing for him to elaborate, "…What's his name… what's he like?"

This time, when he glanced down at me, I could see the small smile on his face, "That is for you to find out in your own time," he said, "I have a few possessions of your family heirloom that should make it easier."

It was then we heard a bark, and I let out a sigh of relief as a familiar shape bounded to me, "Remy… but you'll tell me who my Dad is right?"

He just glanced at me, and I had absolutely no energy to argue with him. Instead I decided that I would bring it up later, "Where are we going?"

"Bree," he said, "and then, onwards to the fountain of Galadriel."

I was in no mood to go to Bree or to the Fountain of Galadriel – not that I knew what either were really – but I let out a resigned sigh and followed him.

Life could really throw shit-ball's… but honestly, I wasn't sure if this was a shit-ball. Because shit-ball's are always and completely bad, and this wasn't completely bad. Maybe it's a chocolate ball, not a shit-ball.

So this is how it feels to be in a coma. Lovely.