A young girl, laying on the floor in tears. The crack of a whip, then the agonized cry coming from the same young girl. The sound of a bottle breaking as it hits the ground, shards of glass flying everywhere. The slurred words of a drunken man. And then the comforting tones of a female's voice. Then blackness.

Lairin awoke in a cold sweat. She sat bolt upright, her eyes wide out of remembrance of the terrible events that she'd dreamed of. After attempting and failing to calm her breath, the young girl swung her legs over the side of the couch she was sleeping on and stood up.

With a quiet cry of pain, Lairin's hand flew up to the side of her head, which she'd just hit on a rafter. She'd forgotten she was in a hobbit's house.

The aforementioned hobbit was sitting in his favorite armchair, enjoying a hot mug of tea. There was a second mug sitting on a table by his side. It was still had steam rising from the lip, the aromatic smell of chamomile filling Lairin's senses and blocking everything else out.

She walked over to a chair next to the curly-haired hobbit and sat down, wrapping her rough cloak tight around her body. "You knew." She whispered, picking up the hot ceramic mug and raising it to her lips. The warmth that radiated from the mug spread throughout Lairin's body and comforted her, driving the unpleasant dream from her head.

The small hobbit nodded, a sympathetic look in his eyes. "I did." He said quietly. "You talk in your sleep, you know. Thrash around, sometimes whimper."

Lairin hadn't realized that her dreams were that bad. She took a sip of the hot tea, letting the warmth embrace her lips like a kiss. "Did I wake you?" She asked quietly.

The sandy-haired curls shook as the hobbit made the gesture with his head. "No. I always come out here in the middle of the night to drink tea. It's a bad habit, I guess." A light chuckle escaped his lips.

Lairin sighed with relief, letting out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. "Thank you for the tea." She said quietly, taking another sip. "I really appreciate it, Bilbo."

Bilbo smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders. "Anything to help you, Lai."

XX

The day was spent outside in Bilbo's garden, breaking up the fertile soil. Lairin was working at this when Bilbo came back from getting the mail all in a huff.

Lairin raised an eyebrow and looked at him curiously. "What is it now? Has Lobelia come to bother you again?" She asked, a teasing tone to her voice.

Bilbo shook his head. "Worse. A wizard came to call and said that I was going to go on an adventure with him. And apparently, he's going to inform some others about it."

With a light chuckle, Lairin turned back to her work. "I think an adventure would be good for you."

The mad hobbit let out one last huff before kneeling down on the soft soil to help.

XX

It was around suppertime that night when the first visitor came. Lairin had her cloak around her and was dozed off on the floor in a corner, only half aware of her surroundings.

Bilbo, trying to be as quiet as he could, opened the door. He was quite surprised to find a dwarf standing there. Of course, he knew that Lairin was half dwarf, but she would've told him if she was expecting someone. But, being the hospitable hobbit that he was, Bilbo let the dwarf in. Lairin stayed asleep.

She stayed asleep even when the other eleven dwarves showed up and made quite the ruckus in Bilbo's house. The little hobbit was desperately wishing for some of her calm composure at the moment. He felt as if he were going to lose his cool.

Just as he was about ready to scream at one of the dwarves, another walked over to the room where she was sleeping. He noticed her in the corner, but thought she was a pile of blankets. "Can I use one of these blankets?" The dwarf asked, kicking the pile.

Before his foot touched her leg, Lairin's hand shot out and grabbed his ankle. "I would appreciate it if I didn't get kicked." She said in a low voice, shooting a glare at the dwarf, Kili.

His eyes were wide as he looked from his foot to her face. "Uh... Sorry..." He said, stepping away and returning to where he'd been sitting before quite hastily.

Lairin stood and walked over to where the dwarves were sitting and eating. She ignored them all, but turned her attention to Bilbo. She spoke softly in his ear, making the hobbit flush lightly and nod his head. He cleared his throat and walked away to his bathroom, to see what damage the dwarves had done there. Lairin had told him to.

The room fell silent as she walked up, each and every one of the dwarves enthralled by how beautiful Lairin was. She didn't notice their stares as she greeted an old friend, Gandalf the wizard. After they'd both exchanged a few words in elvish, Lairin retreated to the kitchen to make herself something to eat.

Bilbo cleared his throat. "Uh... that's Lairin. She lives with me." He said, his cheeks flushed a bright red. He'd already returned from his quick escapade, not wanting to stay in that part of the house for much longer. Unlike Lairin, he'd noticed the stares of the dwarves.

He was saved from a very uncomfortable conversation by a harsh knock on the door.

"I'll get it." Lairin called from the other room. Even though she had the simple task covered, everyone followed her, Gandalf leading them to do so.

Standing outside the door when Lairin opened it was the most handsome man she'd ever seen in her life.

Gandalf cleared his throat. "Lairin, Bilbo, this is Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of our company."

Immediately, Lairin's eyes widened and she took a step back. She knew who he was. Bilbo was clueless, and thought Thorin to be the same as all the other dwarves who had wrecked his house.

Thorin noticed Lairin's actions and chuckled in a low tone. "She knows." He said quietly in Khuzdul.

Lairin nodded her head slowly and replied in the same language. "I do." She said, just as quietly.

The look on Thorin's face turned to shock. "You know Khuzdul?" He asked her, his tone soft and his voice rough.

Lairin nodded again. "And Sindarin." She whispered, not able to force her voice to be any louder.

Thorin couldn't think of what to say, and was thankfully saved by Gandalf, who ushered everyone into the dining room. Lairin followed, but went back to the kitchen to finish preparing her supper. She still could hear everything that went on in the other room.

A quest. A dragon. A key. A map. Everything was swirling around in Lairin's head as she ate by herself. She knew she had to go, she'd been longing for an adventure like this for a long time. And if she went, maybe Bilbo would be more inclined to go. Who knew?

As soon as she was finished eating, she went back to the couch where she'd been sleeping earlier. This time, she didn't sleep. Only thought.

Gandalf's voice drew her from her deep thoughts. "Is it still haunting you?" He asked quietly, so as not to draw the attention of the other dwarves. Little did he know that Thorin's attention was already intently focused on Lairin.

The girl nodded slowly and sighed. "Yes." She said bluntly. "Mithrandir, you sleep on this couch. I'll sleep on the floor." She moved off of the couch and sat against the wall, curled up in her cloak.

Thorin made it a point to find a spot next to her.

XX

Late that night, Lairin had another nightmare. She whimpered quietly in her sleep, but it was quiet enough so that only Thorin heard. He woke Lairin up and asked her what was wrong.

"Nothing," was the response he got. "It's nothing." With that, Lairin rolled over.

Thorin sighed. "I know something's haunting you in your sleep." He whispered.

She let out an annoyed breath. "I am fine." She said, looking over at him only to send a scowl in his direction.

Thorin knew to give up. There was no way she was going to tell him anything at this point. She'd built her walls too high.