AN: Hey all! This is my first story for The Hobbit. I do have one finished story for X-men as well as one story in progress for Walking Dead. I really hope you like this one, and would love to see some reviews to know what people like, what I could improve on, and what people would like to see. I hope you all enjoy!

Falling was not something I was unaccustomed to. When your number one reaction to problems in life is to find a tree to disappear in, you get used to the occasional slip and tumble. I think my mother had hoped my breaking my arm in three places when I was twelve would have been a wakeup call. Well that was a big negative. I was climbing the same tree two days later, cast and all.

My point here is that I know what to expect when I fall. There is the initial shock that something has gone terribly wrong. Then comes the desperate attempt to correct that wrong. When the attempt fails, as it always does, there's the whooshing of air past your face. This is the point when you realize what's going to happen, where you're about to end up, and how much it's going to hurt. It really is quite a long process despite only taking a few seconds.

But the fall to which I am currently referring was different. I remember my foot slipping a branch, and I remember scrambling to grab hold of something. I remember the whoosh, bracing myself for impact, and cursing my mother for being right. But that's where I blacked out. I had never been knocked out before. Not when I fell from my first tree when I was five, not when my ex best friend pushed me from our tree castle when I was fourteen, and not even when I was eighteen and fell from a twenty foot sequoia. Although, I did break my left knee…which sucked…a lot.

But clearly, my run of consciousness was at an end. And what an abrupt end it was…

When I came to, I wasn't ready to open my eyes. My head was pounding, and the little light making its way past my eyelids was not helping. I started to shift, but froze at the shooting pain in my right shoulder. Dislocation…not too bad then if that was the worst of my injuries, though it would be a bitch to fix. I turned my head slightly, and just as I was prepared to open my eyes, I heard whispers not too far from me. I laid still, wondering who these unfamiliar voices belonged to. They were very gruff, very masculine, and very terrifying. I was in my backyard after all.

"Should we save some for her?" a timid voice asked. I head a brief clattering of plates and silverware with cheerful laughter mixed within.

"She might be hungry when she wakes." The second voice was louder than the first, and I couldn't help but shiver.

"If she does, Master Baggins, it won't be for lunch," a third, much rougher voice replied to more laughter. I froze. What the Hell was that supposed to mean? The way he spoke was not at all comforting.

"Come on Gloin, you think you've got something special, do you?" yet another voice joked. I was growing more uncomfortable with every passing second. Who were these men, and why were they talking about me like I wasn't even there?

"All of you, shut up and eat. She's not our problem and she won't become our problem." This voice seemed to come from whoever was in charge. I would have been a moron to miss the clear cut authority in his voice, and I briefly wondered what would happen should someone argue with him. My thoughts, however, were quick to shift back toward one of the earlier speakers when his rumbly voice filled my ears once more.

"But Thorin, you know how long these journeys can be…she could provide some real comfort," the earlier voice continued. "Or at the very least, a bit of a distraction."

I could feel the vomit rise in my throat. Clearly, I was in the company of a clan of psycho serial rapists who would torture and murder me. Before another word was said, I felt a sudden coldness and heard a deep, worn voice reach over the crowd.

"I will not hear another word of this," the voice called sternly. "All of you…this girl is injured and will not be left to fend for herself. And most assuredly, she will not be treated as you are discussing." I felt a small burst of hope in the pit of my stomach, before it was quenched when I realized what he had said. Fend for herself? Was I not in my backyard anymore, and if not, where was I? My psycho serial rapists were also, apparently, kidnappers.

The one I was certain was called Thorin spoke again. It was hard to tell if he was pissed off at my hero for speaking up or if he was just pissed off in general. Either way, I was getting the distinct impression this angry sounding Thorin character was not going to be my friend. "Gandalf, I will not have my company tainted with the likes of her. She'll be fine; whores have a way of bouncing back."

Whore. He was calling me a whore. What in God's name gave him the right to make such a rude and terrible assumption? It took all my will power to keep my eyes shut tight. After all, in most movies, the bad guys wait for their victims to be awake before they starting fucking them up. The longer I stayed "asleep," the longer I stayed safe...hopefully

"There is no basis for that," a soft elderly voice said. I heard more laughter roaring.

"Look at her Balin!"

"No self-respecting lady would dress thusly."

"I'll find out if there's basis!"

I could feel tears attempt to push themselves through my tightly squeezed eyes.

"Stop it," said the first voice I had heard. "She is a lady and you will not talk about her like that in front of me!" The silence was penetrating. Clearly the voice did not belong to someone with much power over the group.

"Well said, my friend…and with that," the one called Gandalf continued. I could feel him walking toward me. "Perhaps she's ready to open her eyes, considering she's been awake for the past several minutes." My eyes shot open as a group of incredibly rough looking men made to surround me. I stood, careful not to upset my arm too much. My eyes swept across what appeared to be an unfriendly group of fourteen rather short, yet terrifying men dressed in clothing I hadn't seen outside of the Renaissance Festival. A very old looking man in all grey stood on the outskirts of the group and eyed me curiously.

"Dear girl," he started softly, making his way through the group of men. I could feel myself shaking as my eyes darted around the group.

"Finally, some answers," one man with a long white beard sighed.

"Pretty answers, I hope." One of the taller men of the group, which didn't say much since I was stiller taller, eyed me with interest, his gaze resting on my long legs. I turned away from his gaze and tried to ignore the many menacing tattoos covering his bald head.

I felt several of the men approach and attempt to close ranks on me, so I did the only thing I could think of. I let loose the most bloodcurdling, fear filled scream I could and reached over to punch the closest man to me. I turned and sprinted toward the only tree in sight and pulled myself up with my one good arm, praying if I got high enough, the group would give up and leave me alone.

By the time I reached the top of the twenty foot tree, the confusion below was apparent. I leaned heavily against the main trunk as I laid my legs out along a branch. Trying to catch my breath, I listened to the talk far below me. My deep breathing only seemed to further upset my arm, and I felt more tears trying to push their way to the surface. As the mutterings on the ground continued, I took the opportunity to look around. I seemed to be in the only sturdy tree in several miles. Grassy fields with the occasional shrub surrounded me on every side, and I shook my head.

"What is going on?" I whispered to myself, pushing my hair from my face with my one good arm. The wind was biting, and I caught myself wishing for my under armor and the Columbia I usually only pulled out for the very worst of blizzards. It wasn't that cold of course, but at least I could hide within the coat from whatever was waiting for me on the ground. I pulled my knees to my chest, wobbled precariously, and finally settled onto my branch.

"Miss!" I looked up and then turned my gaze downward. "Miss! Won't you come down?" the voice called again. I very nearly laughed. Were they kidding? Not only had they kidnapped me, but had been talking about raping me. Screw that.

"Miss, you'll fall!" another voice shouted. It was amazing how believable they sounded, but I would have had to be an idiot to trust any of them. They could show all the "concern" in the world, but I refused to leave my perch. At least not until they left before me.

"Miss!" I rolled my eyes, broke off a good sized branch to my left and hurled it down at the group.

"Go away!" I screamed. Silence.

"So you can speak then?" called up an older sounding voice.

"I said go away!" I wondered what I had done to deserve this.

"Let us help you!"

"I want to go home," I moaned, knowing they couldn't hear me. I leaned back and cringed as my shoulder let loose another spasm of pain. Deciding, I could probably fix at least that one situation on my own I stood up and painfully raised my arm to grab hold of the branch above me. I had fixed several of my own dislocations in the past, but never at the top of a large tree while surrounded by a bunch of kidnapping psycho serial rapists.

"Don't jump!" came a voice from below. I looked down briefly to see what appeared to be a child running toward the base of the tree.