Sighing I glanced around, I couldn't help but wonder why on middle earth the wizard had wanted to drag us out to the ass end of nowhere when our true target was in the complete and opposite direction. Now do not misunderstand me Hobbiton, in the Shire was a lovely quaint little village with meandering paths running between well-tended gardens that surrounded the homes of the Shire folk. The Shire folk where just as small and quaint as the village they lived in, mostly portly and merry due to their love of good food and drink, a love which I shared with them. But this place was far from the real world, a world of death, hunger and fear; they were sheltered from the hidden horrors of not knowing where your next meal is coming from or the next time you will sleep without worrying what will try and kill you when you're dreaming, the horrors I had grown to see every day.
The people here where Hobbits, and Hobbits where them. They lived in Hobbit holes in the sides of the hills; not dirty, dark and damp holes, no these where Hobbit holes and they were just as quaint and welcoming as the tiny Hobbit's that lived in them. Light and bright with comfortable furniture, pantries bursting with delectable treats and warm roaring fires. But I had yet to see this with my own eyes as I was currently wondering the paths of Hobbiton for the first time looking for one particular Hobbit hole and one particular Hobbit.
Bilbo Baggins of Bagg End was your quintessential Hobbit, with brown curly hair, a small belly which showed his comfortable life style and a great dislike for anything unexpected, so when I knocked on his door without two weeks warning in advice and then confirming my coming at least two days in advance before I even turned up for a single cup of tea, right at this minute he did not look pleased to see me. The Hobbit's eyes where wide with shock as he stood holding his door open looking up at me in surprise. His shock in seeing a Dwarf was understandable as they did not often pass through these lands and Dwarf women were almost considered myths as few had ever been seen. It made me laugh so much that so many thought us myths, where do they think Dwarflings come from? They sure as anything don't sprout out the ground, Dwarfs couldn't cultivate weeds let alone children, our race would die out! And the rumour we had beards? I have never seen a bearded dwarf woman, so I doubt any man had either.
"Alia at your service," I said pleasantly seeming to bring the Hobbit from his shocked stupor. After opening and closing his mouth a few times he smiled forcefully.
"Bilbo Baggins at yours," He said and taking that as a sign to come in I pushed past the little man, dumped my cloak in to his arms and wandered off towards the voices echoing from deeper within the Hobbit hole. Dwalin and Balin where raiding the pantry with the help of Fili and Kili. Dwalin was one of the tallest Dwarfs I had ever met, the top of his head had been shaved and he wore a look that had constantly said 'do not mess with me if you want all of your limbs to remain attached', it wasn't a nice look. He carried a large ornate, but very usable, Hammer and he dressed entirely in black. His older, and considerably less intimidating brother, Balin had the whitest hair I had ever seen, he was shorter and usually carried an axe and dressed in brown. Fili and Kili were also brothers and were so young that although they looked adult to those races with a lot shorter life spans they were in fact nothing more than boisterous adolescents. This was proven by the fact that Kili, the younger of the two brothers, had yet to grow a beard and instead had a light dusting of dark brown stubble which matched his long dark brown hair, he dressed mostly in black leather and had sword which was currently in the hall way. He, like his brother, was an attractive young dwarf taking their looks and height (as they were both tall dwarfs) from their mothers side. Fili was as blond as they come and had long hair and a golden beard; his hair was tied out the way of his face.
All four Dwarfs turned to me and the younger two grinned mischievously.
"Catch!" Kili said and threw a large wheel of cheese to me which I caught easily with a sharp exhale.
"Rude as always!" I grunted and winked to Fili, "Wait until I tell your Uncle that you didn't say hello,"
"Hello," They both said quickly making Balin chuckle. Their Uncle was pernickety with their manners and they would get an earful if they found out they had been rude to me.
Bilbo Baggins looked horrified as his home was rearranged despite his complaints.
"Wait! No! Don't move that! Put it back!" He cried as Fili carried a pile of china in and started to lay the table ignoring the poor Hobbit's objections . I was cutting loaves of bread into chunks and chucking them into a basket on the table which was now in the hall way surrounded by sixteen chairs. Luckily for my now aching ears there was a loud knock at the door and Bilbo, still complaining loudly, ran off to answer it. To my surprise I found myself a moment later wedged between two Dwarfs in a hug. To my left was Bofur, a little young than me he had shoulder length brown hair with a long moustache and a clipped beard, his head was covered in a fur lined hat. To my right was his older and much bigger brother Bombur. There was no other way to describe Bombur but fat and he knew it, not that it bothered him. His red hair was braided in a long loop that rested in his large belly.
"Alia!" They both said squeezing me between them.
"Wow there," I wheezed, "Squishing me!" They released a little but I was still trapped in between the two smiling men.
"I am pleased to see you both too," I said and wrapped my arms around Bombur's stomach as much as I could before turning and hugging Bofur tight, I had miss them both but Bofur more, we were very close.
"Has Bifur come here too?" I said hopefully turning to see the waving black haired Dwarf with an axe imbedded in his skull, his long grey beard had two braids in, one each side of his chin. When I was a child Bifur had made me the most wonderful toys and would sit and play with me for hours. I released Bofur and hugged him too. The three of them where my cousins, their father and my father where brothers.
Ten minutes later we were sat around the table eating, I was between Bofur and Bomber. I was looking around and seeing who else had come, there were five Dwarfs I had yet to introduce to you. The first three where brothers, and if I ever travelled the entire lands of middle earth I doubted I would ever find three more different looking brothers. The first was Dori, he was the eldest with his silver hair completely braided from the top of his head and down the side of his face, and he was a brilliant healer. Nori had some crazy hair split into three points and his beard was in further three points with braids, like a star. The youngest of the three was Ori; he was extremely weedy for a Dwarf and much younger than his brothers. He had a bowl cut hair and two braids meeting at the top of his head. I always found it amusing that he carried a sling shot, as if it would do any good for a fight. The last two where the quarrelsome brothers Oin and Gloin. Oin was older with grey hair and a permanent scowl and his beard was braided into two loops. Gloin had fiery red hair and silver clips in his beard. To my silent surprise and relief I could not see Gloin's young son Gimli at the table. Gloin and Oin where the cousins of Balin and Dwalin.
Gandalf the Grey was speaking to the Hobbit, his eyes twinkling with silent amusement from the small man's angry words. I had met the Grey wizard a few times in passing and from what I understood of him he was one of five great wizards who watched over middle earth and he made the most wonderful firework displays. Counting us the old wizard frowned to the empty seat next to him.
"We seem to be one Dwarf short," Gandalf said looking around us again. I popped a piece of bread into my mouth.
"He should be here soon," Dwalin said as I slapped Bombur across the knuckles as he tried to pinch my last sausage.
"You have had enough!" I said pouting, narrowing my eyes as Bofur laughed at his big brother.
When we were younger Bofur and I used to get confused for siblings, sometimes even twins. My waist length brown curls, dark brown eyes, fair skin and constant smile were traits I shared with him, my curvy figure on the other had was entirely mine. You see our Fathers where twins and as we both took after them our similarities where inevitable.
Bofur started to tease Mr Baggins and the twelve Dwarf men started singing and tossing the crockery around.
Chip the glasses and crack the plates
Blunt the knives and bend the forks
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates-
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!
Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!
Splash the wine on every door!
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;
Pound them up with a thumping pole;
And when you're finished, if any are whole,
Send them down the hall to roll,
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
So, carefully! Carefully with the plates!
The curly haired Hobbit looked like he was about to lay an egg as his best plates went whizzing past his head. Fili and Kili stood in the hall way tossing the plates into the kitchen where they were washes, dried and stacked in neat piles on the counter. I couldn't help but smile and chuckle at their antics, Dwarfs actually where very nimble and unbeknownst to poor Bilbo his crockery was perfectly safe.
"Ignore them Mr Baggins…they are just teasing," I called over their poor singing and winked to him. Just as they had finished the doorbell rang and Bilbo, thoroughly distraught from the teasing, went with Gandalf to answer it. After a minute we all jumped to our feet and followed, my grin growing wider and wider.
Thorin Oakenshield was as majestic a Dwarf as they come; his long dark hair was swept away from his roguishly handsome face, making the two braids by his ears visible. His beard was trimmed short to stop accidents in his forge. He wore a long leather coat with a fur collar and oh my was he tall! This man had ensnared my interest and most private of desires for as long as I was old enough to have them. I had decided if I could not have him as mine I would have no one at all. Yes he is King and when I was young he was my prince but I am not after the power, Thorin was the most valiant and glorious man I knew and I would have him, some day.
I heard Bofur snort back a laugh.
"You're drooling," He whispered into my ear and I elbowed him in the side, pouting childishly. Bofur was the one of the few Dwarfs I had ever confided everything in.
"Oh shut it," I grumbled and turned to see the Dwarf king looking at me disapprovingly.
"Alia…you should not be here…I told you to stay home," He said dangerously quietly, closing the gap between us.
"Ah but you see you said to stay HOME…so I am going home! And as you were headed there too I thought I may as well tag along with you…it gets awfully boring travelling alone," I said cheerily, Thorin's face darkened and I sighed, shifting under his angry look, "Honey I am a warrior of Erebor I have more right to be here than most of these Dwarf Men…and I have more skills with a blade than them also," He put a hand on my shoulder and I put mine on his and he gave me the 'we'll talk about this later' look before dragging me to the table and into the chair next to him.
The Hobbit scurried off to find something for Thorin to eat and he took this moment of distraction to give me his lecture.
"I cannot promise your safety!" Thorin started in a low voice, fixing me with a grumpy stare, I just smiled at him.
"Old friend I do not need your promise of protection, you are more than just my King Thorin…you are my best friend…and as your friend and your warrior I shall follow you were ever you may lead, whether you want me to or not…no matter how hopeless or dangerous the task at hand," I spoke softly, resting a gentle hand on his forearm.
"If Dis where here…," He started but I shook my head silencing him.
"Dis didn't agree with my becoming a warrior…but you supported me, you convinced your grandfather that a woman like me could be a great warrior. Have I failed you?" I gave him my wide puppy dog eyes and I knew I had won, he never could say no to this look.
"Fine…" He grunted, "But you know you can talk me into anything…and that is not always a good thing,"
Yes I had many times talked Thorin into doing things that were just plain stupid. We had been friends for as long as I could remember, our fathers where friends and so as a small child I was brought to the royal sector as a little friend for Princess Dis, and we were friends but as soon as the adults left us Dis would wave me goodbye and Thorin would appear and whisk me away to cause some mischief or other. As we got older my father stopped even trying to stop me running off with Thorin and causing havoc, King Thror thought it most amusing and I could see the wedding procession flashing before his old eyes but it never came to that. Any arrangement that our parents may have been plotting never happened, we were nothing more than adolescents when Smaug attacked, a good few decades younger than Fili and Kili are now, younger even than Gloin's son who was too young to come play warrior. And because of that when the dragon attacked and we fled Erebor there was no talk of feelings, no arrangements between our parents, back then getting married was the furthest thing from my mind. My mother and younger sister never escaped Erebor; they died in the breath of the dragon as I screamed for them to run. When we tried to take Moria and Thror fell my father died protecting him, Thorin's father crazed by grief disappeared and Thorin became our King and I his most trusted friend, that unfortunately made it very difficult for any confession of emotional attachment other than 'you're my friend…you're my king…if you say jump I'll say how high'. If I got a hold of that stupid love-life-ruining dragon he was as good as a pair of dragon skin boots with lovely matching handbag.
Soon the serious talk started and the enormity of our task started to get a little realer. I doubted all of us would make it to Erebor let alone actually retake our mountain. Glancing to the dwarf beside me I bit my lip gently, tonight may be the last chance I would get to say anything to him about my feelings. The sudden realisation hit that unless by some miracle I was going to die a virgin and Thorin would never know that I would literally do ANYTHING he asked of me. I sighed inwardly, leaning back in my chair as Ori started, out of sheer adrenaline, yelling about bravery. I rolled my eyes, this boy knew nothing of war, nothing of real terror, I just hoped he could stand up to the challenge and live to see the lonely mountain. The map came out of Gandalf's pocket and Thorin had a minor temper tantrum, I smacked him round the back of the head and then looked away whistling, grinning at him out the corner of my eyes.
Bilbo Baggins was not a burglar and no matter how many times Gandalf tried to convince Thorin of this the Dwarf just snorted and rolled his beautiful eyes. Reading through the contract the Hobbit looked as if he was about to have a coronary, his eyes widening the more he read. My, oh so helpful, cousin Bofur was not helping in the slightest. Sighing I tilted my head to rest on Thorin's shoulder.
"He's gunna pass out," I whispered not taking my eyes off the hyperventilating Hobbit.
"Bofur enough," Thorin said sharply, but too late the Halfling crumpled to a heap on the floor.
"Tut tut Bofur…you just killed our Burglar and we haven't even left the house yet!" I said winking to him and he just laughed nervously. Thorin rose from the table and turned away from the group.
"He's no burglar," He muttered so only I could hear and stormed away from us. Sighing I gave the others a look which told them to wait and I stood and walked after the moody king.
Placing my hands on his shoulders I rubbed them slowly easing the tension in the muscles.
"You know that is what everyone said to me when I wanted to fight for my king…but you believed in me, you helped me prove them wrong," I spoke gently, working out the knots with my thumbs. Sighing he turned to look at me.
"But you wanted to fight, you wanted to show them differently…but the Hobbit wants nothing to do with this," Thorin's words where firm, his face set in a hard scowl and I couldn't help but laugh.
"I think he will prove you wrong…the Halfling has a good heart and a sharp mind…," I whispered placing a hand on his cheek; he turned sharply as the others started to walk in. Thorin had never been one for anything that could remotely be considered a public display of affection.
"Not as sharp as your tongue," He muttered, glancing back at me.
Bofur started to play his flute and perched on the arm of Bifur's chair I joined him by singing along with a few songs. More wine and ale was passed around and we enjoyed the last evening we would have in many months in relative safety by making merry and laughing and joking. Soon the mood changed and the song ended and Thorin began the soul filled ballad about Erebor. His deep gravelly voice did things to me that no other man ever could, it brought dampness between my legs and tied my innards into delicious knots until I wanted to beg him for release. What could I say, I was a sexual creature who had only ever had my own hands to bring me pleasure, most Dwarf women my age where long married with Dwarflings that would almost be full grown and having Dwarflings of their own. To say I was beyond sexually frustrated was putting it lightly and after vowing to have no one but the brooding dwarf king I had no true way to satisfy my urge to rip is clothes from his marvellous body and make him bring me to my release over and over again. I was royally screwed when it came to that aspect of my adult life. Instead I became a warrior, a brilliant fighter and I took my frustration out by beating the shit out of as many men as I could, it had also given me more time with the young prince I was so smitten with as his ever increasing responsibilities kept him away from me.
Back to the point, Thorin had an unbelievable voice; deep, husky and entirely sexy. Had I not have been in a room full of people I may have been tempted to broach the undeniable sexual tension between Thorin and I on the rug in front of the crackling fire, but fate was not in my favour and perched on the arm of my older cousin's chair I could do nothing but join in the song and just listen as the fourteen voices melded into one haunting sound.
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold
The dwarfs of yore made mighty spells
While Hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep
In hollow halls beneath the fells
For ancient King and Elvish Lord
The many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crown they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun
Far over the misty mountains old
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To claim our long forgotten gold
Goblets the carved there for themselves
And harps of gold; where no man delves
They lay they long; and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves
The pines were roaring on the height
The winds were moaning in the night
The fire was red, its flaming spread
The trees like torches blazed with light
The bells were ringing in the Dale
The men looked up with faces pale
The dragon's ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail
The mountain smoked beneath the moon
The dwarfs they heard the tramp of doom
They fled their halls to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon
Far over the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away ere break of day
To win our harps and gold from him!