I woke up to the sound of heavy footsteps, and crickets. A cool breeze blew my hair, tickling my nose.
I nearly fell off of the bench I was apparently on, and my eyes shot open as I looked down at the bench in shock. I gave the bench a good smack with my hand, disbelieving it's existence.
I hadn't fallen asleep on a bench, so why the hell was I on one now?
"Dad?" I called out uncertainly, looking up and looking around.
In front of me was a gated fence, and there was a house behind me that appeared to have been built into the ground. My mind went to something my mom had said years ago;
'When I was little, I lived in a house built underneath a hill! Can you believe that, Malia?'
The answer of course had been, 'No, what are you talking about.'
I turned slightly on the bench, to get a better look at the house. It was dimly lit inside, and smoke bellowed out of the chimney. Seeing it felt strangely enough like home.
A foreign feeling to me, ever since my mother had left.
"What on," I began.
I stopped speaking the second I heard a creaking noise. I had forgotten about the footsteps I had heard.
My head snapped towards the noise, and I watched as a slightly large, balding man opened the gate in front of me. He had old tattoos on his balding head, and looked fierce.
And that's when I started to freak.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked while bringing my feet up onto the bench as I tried to make myself as small as possible. Or maybe even jump and run. I hadn't decided, really.
"Dwalin, at your service." He said briskly, looking me up and down.
I couldn't help but follow his gaze for a moment. Nothing about my attire matched his, not in the slightest.
He was wearing a brown cloak, and what appeared to be leather chest plate and trousers. He looked fierce, and his boots looked worn.
I, on the other hand, was wearing two pairs of leggings, and a baseball jersey style teeshirt with a few bright fishes on it, from the swim school that I worked at. And was shoeless, which although was typical of me, seemed very far-fetched now.
"Dewallin? What?" I asked, my voice still raised in fear.
Dwalin had an intense gaze underneath his heavy brows, and it made me nervous.
"Where am I? Who are you? Where's my dad?" I asked.
Dwalin raised a heavy brow at me, and then seemed to grow tired of my yells. I couldn't blame him, considering the next thing out of my mouth was:
"Was I drugged? Are you on drugs?" I pointed at him. "Is this a drug deal gone wrong?"
Dwalin let out a loud sigh, before he quickly grabbed my arm and yanked me onto my feet.
"Hey! Let go!" I yelled, trying my hardest to get out of his grip as he continued towards the round door of the house.
I tried stomping my feet, hitting his hand. Hell, I was close to biting him when he rang the doorbell.
The round door had a glowing rune etched into it, and he pointed at it and laughed.
"Where's whoever that takes care of you, Lassie? Are they in here?" Dwalin asked briskly.
"I can take care of myself." I hissed back, digging my nails into his hand.
He let out a cackle of disbelief.
Bad move on his part, really. Without even thinking about the consequences, I stopped fighting to get away from him, and lunged towards him. I bit the arm that held me, and he let go as he let out a shout.
The door slowly opened, and I can only imagine what it must've looked like for the homeowner.
Dwalin seemed at a loss for words as he looked down from his bleeding arm to me.
I watched the home owner as he stared at us nervously, starting to tie his robe closed. The man clearly hadn't expected company, and didn't understand what had happened before he had opened the door.
Same, honestly.
"Dwalin, at your service." Dwalin said as he looked away from me. He then bowed to the man.
I groaned. Not this 'at your service' stuff again.
"Hmmm," Bilbo stared from me to Dwalin. "Bilbo Baggins at yours."
"Help me." I said to Bilbo, not even waiting for him to invite me inside. I merely jumped towards him.
I turned after I had gotten through the door and away from Dwalin. I looked at Dwalin as he stepped into the house as well.
"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" Bilbo asked, his eyes trained on Dwalin.
"No." Dwalin said, looking at Bilbo with an annoyed frown before walking down the hallway past both of us.
Thankfully we had all moved on past the biting incident.
"Do you have a phone?" I asked as I turned and looked at Bilbo, watching out of the corner of my eye as Dwalin took his cloak off and tossed it onto a table.
"I'm sorry, a phone?" Bilbo asked, prying his eyes away from Dwalin to look at me momentarily.
"Which way, Laddie? Is it down here?" Dwalin asked as he looked around.
"Is what down where?" Bilbo asked, trailing Dwalin.
He was much more concerned about Dwalin's appearance than my own.
Couldn't blame him, really. Dwalin looked like the kind of person who'd you leave in your house for a moment, and when you came back he'd be tearing apart the furniture.
"Phone, please." I said, poking Bilbo's shoulder gently as I followed him through the study.
"I'm sorry I don't know what a phone is." Bilbo snapped at me, giving me a weary before looking back at Dwalin.
"He said there'd be food, and lot's of it." Dwalin kept talking.
"What do you mean you don't have a phone?" I asked as I followed Bilbo who was following Dwalin around the house.
I started looking around for any electricity of any kind. I found nothing. Weird.
"Where are we?" I asked Bilbo as we made our way into the kitchen.
"This is Bag-End." Bilbo said, frowning as he watched Dwalin sit down and start eating his food.
"Is that in Scotland?" I asked, my head tilting in confusion as I watched Bilbo.
"No, the Shire. Where is Scotland?" Bilbo asked, taking his eyes off of Dwalin for a moment to tilt his head back at me.
And that was the precise moment when emotionally speaking, shit hit the fan.
The Shire, also known as the imaginary place my best friend Crystal had wanted to live in until she was in 8th grade. (Hell, I think Crystal still wanted to live in the shire, just didn't openly mention it.)The Shire, a place from a freaking book series.
Dwalin continued eating Bilbo's food whilst I started to legit freak out. It's definitely not one of my finer moments, I must admit.
I had started off by merely pounding my hands on the table, trying to think.
How could I be here, and how could here even exist? It was a book!
"This can not be happening." I hissed to myself, running into Bilbo's study.
"I'm dreaming." I insisted as I looked around the small room.
The thing about dreams, from what I knew, was that you couldn't read. So I tried looking around, but when I held a book up and could read it clearly, I merely dropped it angrily and looked at the wall, growing more determined to prove I was in a dream.
I hit my head against the wall. The pain radiating from my forehead was a painful reminder that I was not dreaming.
It was at that moment that I screamed, right as the doorbell rang again.
Bilbo rushed past me to answer the door, flashing me a worrisome look that shut me up quite effectively.
I had nearly started screaming again when I felt Dwalin's hand against my shoulder.
"What are you," I tried to form a sentence that would accurately explain to him how much he both freaked me out, and alternatively, pissed me off. "Why?" Was all I could muster.
Dwalin took his hand off of my shoulder, and went to the fireplace mantel where Bilbo had a cookie jar placed.
"So, what's your name, Lassie?" Dwalin asked casually, sticking his hand into the jar.
"I'm not a dog," I started, only to hear laughter coming from the doorway.
I turned, and noticed yet another dwarf, this one with white hair.
"Evening brother." The white haired dwarf said to Dwalin, ignoring my existence.
I took a step away from Dwalin, watching both of the dwarves wearily.
"By my beard, you're shorter and wider than last we met." Dwalin said, putting the cookie jar down and focusing on the newcomer.
"Wider, not shorter." The man agreed. "Sharp enough for both of us." They both laughed and smiled.
Then they head butted each other.
I slowly backed even farther away from the two of them, slightly worried they'd hurt me.
"And who's that one?" I whispered to Bilbo as he walked into the room.
"Balin." Bilbo said, looking at both dwarves then back at me. "I'm sorry, do I know you? You're a hobbit, yes?"
"Ummm…" I mumbled, looking down from his feet to mine. I certainly had the feet for it, although mine were a lot less hairy than his. "I think so. I'm Malia." I paused for a moment. "Malia. My mother's name was Mirabella…" My heart sunk.
I clearly was an idiot. How did I not notice the similarity between my mother's maiden name and the freaking book? I mean besides the blatant fact that even if I had noticed, I never would've assumed there was a connection.
"Took." I grumbled, looking into the fire before back at Bilbo.
Recognition flashed in Bilbos eyes, before he nodded. "Right, of course. Mirabella's daughter." He smiled at me. "That makes you my cousin."
"What?" I asked him, but Bilbo ignored this.
The two Dwarves in front of us began laughing again, and Bilbo looked back at them, still more concerned about them. Still didn't blame him.
"Uhm, excuse me, sorry. But the thing is, I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house." Bilbo said.
The two Dwarves merely ignored his words, and went into the kitchen together.
Bilbo looked at me exasperatedly, and I shrugged.
"Honestly, I'm not even sure why I'm here. I'm terribly lost. But you know." I paused, wondering what to say. "I doubt they are going to leave."
Bilbo exhaled angrily before storming into the kitchen. "It's not that I don't like visitors. I like visitors as much as the next hobbit."
I stifled at snort at his words. If I was truly a hobbit, then let me tell you, 'as much as the next hobbit' would mean he didn't want visitors in the slightest.
Bilbo paused in the doorway to look at me, and I shrugged as I took a seat near the fire.
He sighed, and I heard him continue into the kitchen.
I could hear him say from the other room, "But I do like to know them before they come visiting."
My mind was wound up tighter than a spring. I mean, if this is real, which at this point I hadn't confirmed, that meant I was related to Bilbo freaking Baggins.
"Okay so." I mumbled to myself. "I'm in the shire, somewhere that shouldn't exist."
The anxiety in the pit of my stomach grew.
"I don't have a phone, or even shoes." I let out a deep breath. "I'm debatably scandalously dressed, and apparently I am a hobbit, or something."
Just as my heartbeat began quickening at the idea of me no longer being anywhere familiar, that's when the doorbell rang again.
I let out a strangled breath, thinking about my dad, and Crystal. What if I never saw them again? Oh god. Oh god, oh god.
"Theoretically speaking, I'm not supposed to be here." I whispered, looking up and watching as Bilbo stormed to the door.
"Butterfly effect, oh god. I've messed it all up." I was near pulling my hair out. "Whatever it all even is."
I had no way of knowing whether or not I was actually changing events. I had "watched" the movies, and had claimed to have read the books.
But I hadn't actually read them. Dumb move on my behalf, apparently. Once more, I may have been in love with Lord of the Rings, but I had played games on my phone for a lot of the Hobbit movies. Whoops doesn't even begin to cover what a mistake that was.
I slowly breathed in and out as I listened to the dwarves run about the house, and heard Bilbo's voice get louder.
"That's my mother's glory box!" Bilbo yelled. "Can you please not do that?"
Apparently Bilbo was having just as rough of an evening as I was.
A few moment later the doorbell rang, again.
"Malia!" Bilbo yelled, and I jumped to my feet.
Bilbo motioned for me to come towards him, and I left the study and joined him in the hallway.
"Malia, please make sure they don't," Bilbo paused as he glared at the front door, "Go away and bother somebody else!" He yelled, before looking at me again.
"Stop them from ruining my house, please." Bilbo begged, motioning towards the hallway leading to the dining room.
I frowned, nervous.
I wanted to tell him that I might ruin everything. But as I watched Bilbo start storming to the door, I saw a lot of my mother's behavior in his. The mannerisms, the way he spoke.
So with one last deep breath, I nodded and traipsed farther into the hallway towards the dining room.
"There's far too many Dwarves in my dining room as it is!" Bilbo yelled, and I looked back down the hallway towards him, still walking forward.
"Sorry!" I said as the wind was nearly knocked out of me from someone colliding into me. I stumbled slightly.
I turned to look forward and saw two more Dwarves, these ones closer to my age. One with Brown hair, and the other with Blonde.
"If this is some clot-head's idea of a joke, I can only say it is in very poor taste!" Bilbo's voice rang through the hobbit-hole.
I had to look up slightly to look at the dwarf who had nearly knocked me over. He must've been one of the ones that had just come into the house, for I hadn't met him yet. And let me tell you, he was hot. Capital H-O-T, hot. Brown hair, shining eyes. Amused smile.
God, I had clearly lost it. Out of all the times to finally start acting like a female, it had to be after I had changed worlds.
"You're a strange looking lass, aren't you?" The blonde haired dwarf said as he walked farther up to us.
Now that was bold. A man with parts of his beard braided calling me the strange looking one.
"That's rude." I said to him, frowning. "I don't want to be here, but you guys are like five seconds away from making Bilbo have an aneurism. So you know, stop damaging his stuff or whatever it is that you're doing."
"She talks quite strange, too." The brunette said, a twinkle of amusement playing in his eyes.
Damn. Hot, and rude.
"Oh, I'm the strange talker?" I was growing slightly hostile, which only seemed to amuse the brothers even more.
I was about to rip them a new one, I swear. I was going to get up on my preverbal soap box, and let at it.
I had been about a second away from listing exactly why I shouldn't be there, couldn't be there, and didn't want to be there, when suddenly even more Dwarves came running down the hallway from the door.
"What?" I asked as a few Dwarves pushed past me.
I looked towards where they had come from, and my heart dropped when I saw a tall figure standing out above them.
It was Gandalf. I knew, without a doubt, it was Gandalf. And he looked straight at me, a twinkle in his eyes, and said;
"You must be Mirabella's daughter."
I had been stunned to silence.
But instead of confronting Gandalf about it, I took one more look at the dwarves in front of me, (Including the hot dwarf whose name I would later remember is Kili) and stormed out of the hallway, and into the study.
Where I promptly plopped myself down on the chair and tried not to scream.
Mirabella, better known as Mira, was my mother. Gandalf knew my mother. Holy hell. I couldn't decide if I was simply a complete and utter idiot to not have noticed the similarity, or merely sane.
"My dear lass," A dwarf said as he stopped when he noticed me, two tea cups and a tea pot on a tray in his arms. "Could I tempt you with some Chamomile?"
"Why?" I asked him, looking at him suspiciously.
"I quite like tea, and I was going to share a pot with Gandalf, but it would seem he would rather have some red wine." He said, sighing.
"I like tea too." I said nervously, nodding at him.
"Well," He smiled at me, placing the tray on the table next to me. "You're welcome to have some. Save me some if possible, I might be able to come back and have some myself." He gave me a friendly wink.
"Thank you." I said to him.
"What's your name, lass?" He asked.
"Malia." I said, reaching over and pouring myself a cup of tea.
"Dori, at your service." He said, bowing.
My eye twitched when he said he was at my service, but I tried to continue smiling at him as he nodded his head at me and then left the room.
I drank the chamomile tea, listening to the sounds of the Dwarves. They seemed to be having a great time, as far as I could tell.
And from I had seen of Bilbo, he was having the exact opposite of a good time. Actually, I think he felt as annoyed and out of place as I did. Except it was his own house that he was feeling out of place in.
At one point he came storming into the room, pretty much stomping his feet.
"I can't stand these blasted Dwarves!" He said, looking as though he was going to have a temper tantrum. "Malia, please help me."
My eyes grew, and I frowned. "How am I supposed to help you?"
He sighed, clearly fed up. "Just, please."
I rolled my eyes at him and got up, putting my tea cup back down on the tray.
I followed him out of the room and into the kitchen to look at the pantry.
"I have so many questions." I remarked, looking at the empty pantry. "For one, why do you have that much food?"
Bilbo glared at me, and from the other room I heard a dwarf (I'd later learn was Bofur) yell, "I knew you had it in you!"
"What are they doing?" I asked Bilbo, looking across the hallway to where some of them sat at a table.
"I haven't the slightest clue." Bilbo said, taking a deep breath in and bringing his hand to his face, and rubbing his eyes.
We stood there in silence for a few moments before Bilbo got another spark of energy and motioned for me to follow in into the kitchen.
As we went into the room, Bilbo grabbed a doily out of Nori's hands.
"Excuse me, that it a doily, not a dishcloth." Bilbo snapped.
"But it's full of holes." Bofur said.
"It's supposed to look like that, It's crochet." Bilbo remarked as he began daintily folding it.
"And a wonderful game it is too, if you've got the balls for it." Bofur remarked.
"What?" I asked, staring apphrensively at Bofur.
"Bebother and confusticate these dwarves!" Bilbo hissed as he stormed towards me, roughly setting the doily down on a shelf and yet again bringing his hand to his head.
"What?" I asked Bilbo, growing even more confused.
Man, I did not understand some of those many Middle-Earth words.
"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked, coming towards us.
"What's the matter?" Bilbo looked to Gandalf, bringing his hand down to motion with it. "I'm surrounded by Dwarves. What are they doing here?"
I followed Bilbo and Gandalf, stopping for a moment to watch as Nori and Bofur fought over some sausage links.
"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering once you get used to them." Gandalf remarked.
"I don't want to get used to them!" Bilbo hissed, motioning for Gandalf and I to continue to follow him.
"Look at the state of my kitchen. There's mud trod into the carpet." He motioned to the floor before storming ahead and pointing at the pantry. "They've pillaged the pantry." He continued storming down the hallway. "I won't even tell you what they've done to the bathroom, they've destroyed the plumbing. I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"
"Excuse me." Ori said as he walked up to Bilbo, his plate in his hand. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"
"Here you go, Ori." Fili said as he walked up to Ori, snatching the plate from him. "Give it to me."
Fili then tossed the plate at Gandalf and I.
I ducked, while Gandalf moved to the side. I looked up to see Kili on the other side of me had caught the plate, and was proceeding to throw it into the kitchen.
I was about to lift my head up when another plate went whizzing by, and I looked from Fili to Kili incredulously.
Kili winked at me, which didn't make much sense to me. Like most of Middle-Earth.
"Take that back!" Bilbo said. "Excuse me, that's my mother's West Farthing pottery. It's over 100 years old!"
Kili and Fili were playing hacky-sack with 100 year old pottery.
Meanwhile, I could hear more noises coming from the dinning room, and I watched from my ducked position in the hallway as Bilbo went off to tell them off too.
"And can you not do that? You'll blunt them!"
"Ooh. Do you head that, Lads?" I heard Bofur say. "He says we'll blunt the knives."
"Blunt the knives, bend the forks." My head whipped back around to Kili, whom had bursted out in song.
"Smash the bottle and burn the corks." Fili continued, throwing another plate over my head to Kili.
"Chip the glasses and crack the plates,
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates,
Cut the cloth, tread on the fat,
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat,
Pour the milk on the pantry floor,
Splash the wine on every door…"
"So my dear, do you have a name, or shall I simply call you Mira's daughter?" Gandalf asked, and I watched as an amused smile grew on his face as he watched me from the other side of the hallway.
"Malia." I yelled over the singing Dwarves.
"Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl…"
"Your father acted the very same way when he found himself here, too." Gandalf said.
"Pound them up in a thumping pole…"
"Okay, I get it, you're a wizard." I was growing hostile. "This has happened before. Obviously."
"When you're finished, if they are whole…"
It wasn't obvious, I was in a mood though. "But what do I do?"
"Send them down the hall to roll!"
"What do you want to do, my dear Malia?" Gandalf asked.
I heard a wind-instrument solo begin in the background.
"I want to go home, obviously." I muttered, avoiding his eye contact.
Gandalf frowned. "The strange occurrence that brings an individual from your world to ours seems to only occur every ten years to get here, and twenty five to get back."
"So what you're saying is I'm stuck here, until I'm 47?" I could feel my heartbeat racing.
"From what I've seen, I'm afraid so."
"I'm sorry, I'm going to, I just," I paused as I stood up straight, taking a deep breath.
"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"
"Holy shit, you've got to be fucking kidding me! What the actual fuck? Shitty shit shit, Jesus fucking christ!" I was back to screaming, only this time my mental filter seemed to have stopped working.
But they had stopped singing right before, so no longer had my words been covered by their song, and I looked around to see Kili and Fili shooting me bizarre looks.
Then the doorbell rang.
"That's freaking Thorin, isn't it?" I yelled at Gandalf, cringing at my own words.
"My dear Malia, please go find yourself a seat at the table." Gandalf said tiredly.
"I'm going to ruin everything!" I yelled, yet again.
"Malia," Gandalf boomed, the hallway darkening slightly. "If you thought your arrival here would ruin anything, you are completely mistaken."
I took a step away from Gandalf. God, what an awkward conversation to have while everyone was watching.
"Your father being here only made things better, not worse. This is your chance to have an adventure, what else are you going to do while you wait?" Gandalf smiled gently.
Before I could say another word, Gandalf sternly pointed towards the other room, where the table was.
I knew better than to argue much further with a wizard, and I quickly brushed past Kili and Bofur, making my way through the kitchen and into the dinning room.
The Dwarves had all gotten up for Thorin's arrival, which left me sitting alone at the table like an idiot.
I sighed, waiting patiently for something, anything to happen. Most preferably, me being swallowed by the furniture and seizing to exist. Honestly, I was pretty open minded at that point.
As luck had it, Thorin was miraculously able to not see me while he ate his food. Then again, he had lost his way to Bag-End, so his observation skills were most likely lacking. For the better half of his meal, the Dwarves were highly interested in what he had to say, and I was able to hide behind Ori and pretend I didn't exist.
It was when Gandalf required more light, that Ori's concentration started to brake.
"Far to the east…" Gandalf said.
I had actually intended on listening to what Gandalf had to say. For one, he didn't mumble, so I was actually able to discern what he was saying; But he also was the one who actually wanted me at the table.
"Over ranges and rivers…"
Gandalf sprawled a map on the table before my view was blocked completely by Ori's head.
"Pardon." I whispered to him, trying to lean over the table more to see the map, while not sticking out and getting Thorin's attention.
"There are orange fish on your shirt." Ori said, pointing towards the design on my shirt.
"…Beyond woodlands and wastelands…"
"Yes, I know." I quietly said to him, hoping it would shut him up.
"…Lies a single, solitary peak."
"How'd you get that bright of an orange?" Ori asked.
"Shh." I hissed, putting my finger over my mouth.
"The lonely mountain." Bilbo read from the map.
Ori had seemed dissatisfied with my answer, and continued staring at my shirt.
"Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time." Gloin, a very hairy ginger dwarf with braids in his beard, said.
"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold." Oin said, nodding his head. "When the birds of yore return to erebor… the reign of the beast will end."
"Uhm, what beast?" Bilbo asked nervously.
"That would be a reference to Smaug the terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals." Bofur remarked casually.
If I hadn't been hiding my existence and in weird company, I would've joked about how that sounded a lot like my 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Gardner.
"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo said.
"I'm not afraid. I'm up for it." Ori said as he jumped up from his seat, blocking me completely from Thorin's view. "I'll give him a taste of dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!"
I hadn't a clue what a Jacksie was, but from the reaction Nori and Dori gave, I was pretty sure it meant butt-hole.
"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us…but we number just 13." Balin said, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Balin hadn't counted me in yet, and the more I heard about Smaug, the more I was convinced Gandalf had actually wanted me dead. "And not 13 of the best… Nor brightest."
Everyone was in a slight uproar over Balin's words, except Ori who had yet again grown transfixed by my shirt.
"Stop it." I hissed at him, but he continued staring.
"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf." Fili said confidently.
"And you forget we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Kili added.
I really don't know where Kili had gotten that idea.
"Oh, Well no, I wouldn't say-" Gandalf began, but was cut off by Dori.
"How many, then?"
"What?" Gandalf sputtered.
"Well, how many dragons have you killed?" Dori continued.
Gandalf started coughing nervously, and then yet again, there was an uproar. All the dwarves were shouting amongst themselves, except for Ori was was still staring at my chest.
"For the love of god, stop staring at my chest." I said, perhaps a little too loudly and at the exact moment Thorin had silenced all of them by yelling in dwarfish.
"If we have read these signs…" Thorin started, his cold blue gaze set on me.
Talk about awkward, the man had realized I existed yet continued regardless.
"Do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug, has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing… wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back erebor?"
"You forget the front gate is sealed." Balin dismissed. "There is no way into the mountain."
"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf said as he pulled a large key out of his pocket.
"How came you by this?" Thorin asked.
"It was given to me by your father. By Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now." Gandalf handed the key over to Thorin.
"If there is a key…" Fili mumbled. "There must be a door."
"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls." Gandalf confirmed.
"There's another way in." Kill added excitedly.
"Well, if we can find it. But dwarf doors are invisible when closed.." Gandalf sighed.
"The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skills to find it. But there are others in middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done."
"That's why we need a burglar." Ori agreed, his gaze slowly crawling back to my shirt.
"Seriously, stop it." I said again.
"You had told me of one, not two." Thorin said to Gandalf.
"Right, of course." Gandalf motioned towards me. "Stand up, Malia."
I wanted to tell him no, but instead I slowly stood up.
"This is Malia Reed, daughter of Mirabella Took and Rickon Reed." Gandalf said.
"Where have I heard of the Reed name before?" Thorin asked me.
I stared at him bewildered. As if I would know why he knew the name Reed. I had literally just learned my mother was a hobbit like an hour before.
"Malia, like her father, are both from a very different world." Gandalf explained. "Some of you might remember Rickon Reed, I believe he spent much time in the Blue Mountains before returning to the shire."
Some nodded in agreement with each other.
"Why was he in the Blue Mountains?" I asked, starting to feel faint.
I hadn't eaten in hours, and somehow changed worlds. It was all starting to make me dizzy, and overwhelmed.
"My dear Malia, your father was a dwarf."
It was that revelation, mixed with low blood sugar and anxiety, that finally caused me to nearly pass out. Nearly. I'm not lucky enough to actually pass out, apparently.
"Oh god." I groaned, closing my eyes as I fell to my right, my butt hitting the bench awkwardly and my head falling onto Bombur's large stomach.
"I'm so sorry." I said as I forced my head off of him, one hand going to my head and the other to my butt, where I most likely had a bruise.
"Anyone got an Advil?" I asked, my eyes staying closed. "I'd be down with some Xanax, too. Before I have a panic attack."
None of the Dwarves spoke, but I knew they were looking at me.
"That's fine, no one has to answer me." I said as I rested my head on the table. "Just leave me here to die of shame."
"Someone get the lass some food, or herbs." Dwalin said dismissively.
I snorted, hearing as someone got up and left the room.
"She's not fit for a journey such as this." Thorin said.
"Hey." I snapped up, my eyes opening and then blinking rapidly to get rid of the black dots in my eyesight.
"I'll have you know I'm stronger than I look. I can hold my breath under water for two minutes, I can swim 25 meters without a breath, I can run, I know how to use a bow and arrow, I can swim down 12 feet, grab a 50 pound object, and bring it to the top." I paused, looking around at the Dwarves. "And I have to clue why I'm tell you any of this."
"Here you go." Kili said, a plate landing on the table in front of me.
I saw the meat on the table and frowned, forcing myself to exhale and ignore it. I grabbed the bread, taking a large bite out of it.
"What about Bilbo? Is he an excellent burglar?" Dwalin asked.
"Am I what?" Bilbo sputtered.
"He said he's an expert!" Oin said, and I raised a brow at him. He was using some sort of hearing aid, so that explained why he didn't hear right.
"No, no. I'm not a burglar." Bilbo insisted. "I've never stolen a thing in my life."
"Same." I mumbled, frowning and hoping no one had heard. Thankfully, they hadn't.
"Well, I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Balin said.
"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin said, giving me a pointed look.
"Hey, I said I could, you assface." I spat at him, a piece of bread flying out of my mouth. "Also, I bit you, so clearly I can fend for myself."
What a lady. Yikes.
"They're just fine." Kili said, as everyone else started talking over themselves.
I looked around the table, and noticed Bifur using some sort of sign language. I couldn't help but smile at him. That was my kind of thing.
He also had an axe in his head, so maybe not my kind of people.
"Enough!" Gandalf bellowed. "If I say Bilbo Baggins and Malia Reed are burglars, then burglars they are." The room went darker as he spoke.
"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most," Gandalf gave me a pointed look. "If they choose. And, while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf…The scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives up a distinct advantage."
Gandalf bent down to talk to Thorin. "You asked me to find the 14th member of this company, and I have chosen them both. There's a lot more to them than appearances suggest. And they have a great deal more to offer than any of you know…" Gandalf paused, looking from Bilbo to myself. "Including themselves."
Gandalf and Thorin look at each other, and Gandalf sighed. "You must trust me on this."
"Very well." Thorin said. "We will do it your way."
"No, no." Bilbo sputtered from behind Thorin.
"Give them the contract." Thorin demanded.
"Oh, I don't need a contract." I said, shaking my head.
"The contract gives you rights to 1/14 of the treasure, Lady Malia." Balin said, looking at me.
"That's fine. I don't want it." I shrugged.
"Why not?" Thorin asked.
"Well, outside of financial security, money doesn't really buy happiness, now does it?" I looked around, and could tell none of them understood what I meant. "I can't take the gold back with me either. Honestly I'm just apart of this for room and board. Feed me, and we have a deal."
Bombur snorted.
"It's just the usual, summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, renumeration, funeral arrangements, so forth." Balin said as he got up, lifting the contract for Bilbo to look at.
"Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo sputtered, stepping away from the table as he opened the contract.
"Uhh, Malia," Bilbo said louder, looking at me to come towards him.
I nodded, getting up and going to him.
"Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to lacerations, evisceration?" Bilbo stopped and pulled the paper out farther. "Incineration?" He asked, looking at the dwarves.
"Aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in a blink of an eye." Bofur said.
Bilbo stopped, his arms dropping as he whimpered.
"Are you alright laddie?" Balin asked Bilbo.
"Yeah…" Bilbo said.
"It's a fast death, Bilbo." I reminded him, watching him worryingly, shifting awkwardly next to him.
I mean, it was. If I had to choose a death, that sounded by far easier than, well, anything I had ever seen in a Saw movie.
"Feel a bit faint." He said.
"Think furnace, with wings." Bofur supplied.
"Air, I need air." Bilbo stuttered, bringing his hand to his mouth.
"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof. You're nothing more than a pile of ash."
"Doubt you'd even feel it, really." I added. "Or, not for very long."
"Hmm…" Bilbo looked off. "Nope." He finally said, turning slightly and falling to the ground.
I tried to stop him, but it didn't work and we both ended up on the floor instead.
Bilbo was on top of me, which really wasn't how I wanted my evening to go.
"Oh, very helpful Bofur." Gandalf said sarcastically.
"Can someone get him off of me?" I asked, trying to push Bilbo away.
"Right." Gandalf said, and Bofur jumped out of his seat and came over to us, grabbing Bilbo by the legs and dragging him off.
"Shouldn't we put him somewhere?" I asked, slowly getting off of the floor and brushing my clothes off.
"Aye." Bofur looked at me, still holding Bilbo's legs.
"Why are you looking at me?" I asked him, raising a brow at him.
"Where shall we put him, Lassie?" Bofur asked.
"I'm not a dog." I snapped, and Bofur gave me a weird look. "Also, how should I know? I only met him an hour before you did."
"I'll take him." Gandalf said, and I watched him as he got up and bent down near Bilbo, and started to pick him up. "You can let go of him, Bofur." Gandalf lifted Bilbo up, then looked back at the company, nearly slamming his head on the ceiling. "The rest of you go into the other room." Gandalf sighed. "I will talk to him once he wakes."
I watched as Gandalf carried Bilbo off into the study, and then slowly the dwarves went into another room.
I sat down by the fire, while we waited to find out about Bilbo. I was nervous, and I stared off into space until someone had jolted me from my trance.
"Lady Malia." I looked up, noticing Kili come towards me, a smile on his face. "I'm glad you have decided to join us."
I raised a brow at him. "Why?"
He didn't seem to expect that, and he looked at me confused.
"I'm not even convinced I'm going to be any help." I said to him, shrugging. "I'm not special, or important. My whole life I've been no one. I'm particularly good at it, too."
Kili looked away from me, and I could tell he didn't know what to say. I nodded, looking around the room and sighing before I got up.
I quietly exited the room, and Balin nodded sadly at me while Thorin, Dwalin, and himself waited outside the room Bilbo and Gandalf were in.
I left the house, enjoying the cool night air. I went over to the bench I had been found on, and took a seat at it.
I missed my dad. I missed my world, and I missed my best friend. I missed my phone. What the hell was I going to do without my phone?
I hadn't touched a bow in years, I didn't know if I'd actually be any good anymore.
"Lady Malia."
I nearly fell off of the bench when I jerked around to see who it was. It was Kili. Man, he didn't know when to give up.
"What are you doing out here?" I asked him, watching him slowly as he came towards me.
"I could ask you the same thing." He said as he smiled at me, an amused twinkle in his eye. "It's not safe for a woman like yourself to be out here alone."
I snorted. "As if anything bad has ever happened in the shire." I said.
"Are you all right?" He asked, sitting down next to me and looking concerned.
"I haven't held a bow in years. I just," I sighed, looking away from him. "I feel like I'm going to weigh you guys down." I paused. "Not literally, mind you. I bet you are all very strong and could easily carry me."
Kili's hand came onto my shoulder, and I looked at him as his smile grew.
"We can fix that." He said, standing up and taking his hand off of my shoulder, then running back into the house.
"Fix what?" I asked myself in confusion.
I wasn't sure if I was supposed to follow him, so I merely waited on the bench. Within a few moments, he was back outside, a bow and quiver in his arms.
I stood up, and he stopped beside me, lifting his arms up for me to take them from him.
"Are these yours?" I asked him.
He smiled, nodding.
"Try hitting that tree over there." He said, motioning to a tree near Bilbo's house.
I put the quiver on my back. It was large on me, and I gave one last look at Kili before I grabbed an arrow and readied the bow.
I grabbed an arrow, and my hands started to shake as I aimed it at the tree. I let go of the bow, the arrow shooting off a few feet left of the tree.
I groaned.
"God damnit." I mumbled, looking at the tree sadly.
"Try again." Kili said from behind me.
I turned and looked at him, noticing him still smiling encouragingly at me.
I nodded and looked away, grabbing another arrow and readying my bow.
"Relax." Kili said as he got closer to me.
His arms nearly went around me as one hand forced me to stand up straight, and the other went around my wrist, putting it into a more relaxed angle. I could feel his breath on my neck as he stayed behind me.
"Let out a few deep breaths, imagine the arrow going into the tree." Kili said.
I did as he said, and although it took a while to relax, once I did, I let go.
I watched in amazement as the arrow actually stuck into the tree. Not quite the middle, but it was still in the freaking tree.
"I did it!" I said as I turned around to look at him, a smile on my face.
Kili smiled back, nodding. "Do it again." He instructed.
I nodded, turning away from him and readying the bow again.
I heard him chuckle behind me, his breath tickling my neck. "You need to stand up straight." He said, his hand going back to my back, pushing me to stand up straighter.
I felt him laugh again.
"How have you managed to be both slumped over and rigid at the same time?" Kili asked, his other hand going back to my wrist and slowly trailing to my fingers, relaxing them slightly.
"That's a very good question." I said to him, trying to focus on the archery instead of how close he was to me, or his hand on my back.
God, what was happening to me?
He didn't say anything more, and I took a few deep breathes, imagining the arrow going into the tree before letting it go.
I watched it strike the tree in the middle. The freaking middle.
"You're quite good at this." Kili said as he took a step away from me, his hands falling back to his sides.
I turned at him and smiled, nodding.
"I used to practice with my mom everyday." I sighed, looking back at the tree. "Thank god for muscle memory."
Maybe I wouldn't weigh them down so much.