DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of our fantastic dwarven companions, but I do own the Dragoons-they are my own characters. I don't own any part of Middle-Earth except for the Dragoonian villages! Everything else is own by a brilliant man.

Other News: Updates for this story will be sporadic and slow-I'm an obligated person. I will attempt to write them often, but I cannot promise weekly updates!

Please Review! I will appreciate any criticism! I don't know much Khuzdul, so any fan of that language, prepare to be disappointed, haha.

Thanks for reading, and please review!

P.S.: This story was inspired from the movie, The Hobbit. The events that occur in this story will mirror the movie more than the book; if I miss anything major from the novel, The Hobbit, please inform me immediately!

Thanks, again!

- IJSRW

The sun was silhouetted on the Shire. Dusk was quickly approaching the two weary travelers, and darkness will consume the dim land. The clouds were golden yellow, while the sky was painted with colorful hues of orange, yellow, and the purple of the night. The grasses looked darker from the setting sun, and looked more enticing for a nap.

The two travelers sat upon their ponies, enjoying the presence of each other. The travelers were good friends, and thought of each other was family. They held an amazing relationship.

One of the ponies shook its head wildly, apparently demanding a break for water. One of the travelers groaned with annoyance and swung off their pony, grabbing a canteen from the saddlebag on the pony. The cloaked traveler grumbled with annoyance and exasperation as the other traveler grinned with amusement.

"You shouldn't get so exasperated," chimed the first traveler, his grin concealed by the shadow of his cowl. "You're getting old-anger isn't beneficial for your health."

"Call me old again, and you'll be concerned for your own health," chuckled the second traveler. The traveler accepted his friend's words; he was older than when they first met, but he was still quite lithe. He grinned to himself, and he knew his friend was concerned about his health, and was using senile insults and teases to mask his concern.

"However, I shouldn't mention a dwarrow's anger-they're too hotheaded to control it," laughed the younger traveler.

"I can't wait till you have children," said the older traveler as he removed his cowl. He quickly quenched the thirst of his pony. "I'm going to fill their impressionable minds with anger!"

The younger traveler scoffed. "My children will be too amazing to be hotheaded. Your impressionable nephews are the perfect test subjects, though."

The older traveler chuckled as he mounted his pony. The younger traveler removed his cowl, revealing a young face of a Man. His dark blue eyes were always observing and watching. His roughly handsome features earned them drinks at the pubs they came across, and his short hair was unique. His black hair was swiped to the side. The younger traveler smiled warmly at the older traveler.

The older traveler smiled back as the ponies continued their walk through the Shire. "You know, I haven't gotten the chance to thank you."

The younger traveler cocked his head slightly. "What are you talking about, Thorin?"

The older traveler smiled. "You're going to help me reclaim my home, and I cannot thank you enough. We've been through hell together, lad, and I haven't gotten the chance to commend you for being strong with me. Thank you, Daedric."

Daedric's smile faded away. He looked forward, looking down the dirt road. "Thorin, I want you to thank me when I reclaim your home. I don't need your thanks; I will not feel any gratitude until I defeat Smaug for killing my father and taking your home."

Thorin's smile faded, too. He knew the lad held a fiery hatred for the dragon that slayed his father. Daedric was totally oblivious to the true intentions of his father, Murrow, and his sacrifice for Erebor. Thorin looked away, hating himself for keeping the secret equivocal from Daedric.

He loved Daedric like a son, and he hated to see Daedric in pain.

"But," said Daedric with an exuberant tone. "You're welcome, Thorin Oakenshield. I will always stay by your side. I'm indebted to you and your kin for raising me."

Thorin smiled. He was glad that he accepted Murrow's request. Thorin was anxious to reach the destination of their newest companion. Thorin knew nothing of their new companion, but he imagined that Gandalf, the Gray Wizard, has chosen an excellent warrior or archer to join their company. Thorin knew that the Shire was an odd place for a fighter, but he never questioned Gandalf.

"Come, Daedric," said Thorin Oakenshield as he grabbed the reins of his pony. "Let's make haste to our newest companion! We have family waiting for us, too!"

Daedric blinked. Thorin stood beside him, probably holding the same expression. They stood before a gigantic green door, which lead into a hillside. Daedric couldn't believe that their newest companion, an enigma to the company, lived inside a hole in a hill. The hole looked spacious and luxurious, though. Daedric attempted to peer through a nearby window, but he didn't want to peer upon their companion. Daedric could hear the deep voices of dwarves inside the hole, too.

Thorin took one step forward and knocked on the door. Daedric glanced over Thorin's shoulder, seeing an illuminated symbol on the green door. Daedric raised an inquisitive eyebrow; who did Gandalf choose as the fifteenth companion?!

The door swung open, and Daedric's answer was possibly answered.

Before the Dragoon, stood a short person with curly brown hair. The short man was wearing fine cloths. He was barefooted, and his fairy feet were quite large. Daedric focused his attention away from the man's enormous feet. The short man looked annoyed and flushed, but, Daedric couldn't blame him.

"Great, even more dwarves, and a Man! Why does everything have to happen to me?" groaned the short man as he sauntered away from the door. Thorin huffed and stepped into the door. Daedric followed him, barely fitting through the doorway. Daedric could hear the banter between the other dwarves. Daedric grinned as the two travelers entered a cramped room filled with familiar faces.

Daedric grinned ecstatically as he saw the familiar faces of the company. There was food stacked upon the table. The dwarves cheered loudly as Thorin and Daedric entered the dining room. The twins, Fili and Kili, sauntered across the room. "Uncle Thorin!" they exclaimed as they embraced their uncle. Daedric stood aside, watching the bright reunion. Fili and Kili were raised by Thorin, and stood alongside him else the fall of Erebor.

Thorin loves them deeply.

Fili pulled away from his uncle, and saw Daedric. Fili gave the Dragoon a warm bearded smile. He sauntered towards the Man and tightly embraced him. "Daedric!"

Daedric laughed as they embraced. "Hey, blondie!" Daedric was delighted to see him; Fili and Kili were his best friends. Daedric was two or three inches taller than Fili.

Kili grabbed his brother and pulled him off Daedric. Daedric laughed as the brother exchanged an angry glare. Kili shrugged and embraced Daedric. Daedric embraced him, too, enjoying seeing his best friends again.

Kili pulled away. "Daedric, you look great! I hope Thorin isn't training you too hard."

Daedric gave him a senile smile. "He can barely keep up with me-I think I'm training him harder than he's training me!"

Throin, who was chatting with Dwalin and Balin, rolled his eyes and shook his head. Daedric snickered as he looked at the brothers. "Why are we inside someone's home? That tiny person cannot be our newest companion?" His words were hushed and quieted.

"Yes," muttered Fili. "Our fabulous host, Bilbo Baggins, is our newest companion."

"He's a hobbit," said Kili. "He's also a burglar!"

Fili rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, brother. Bilbo, through his irritation, is quite a nice hobbit. He definitely understands how to host rambunctious guests."

Daedric smiled. "That's an understatement, Fili."

Fili grinned. "You're not easy to handle, either-I distinctly remember you eating all the food in that pub several seasons ago!"

Daedric chuckled as Kili threw an arm around his shoulders. "Ah, Fili, he's a growing dragon slayer! Our little Daedric simply needs his food!"

"I'm not little! I'm taller than you, Kili! Get a step stool, and say that again!" laughed Daedric. He looked over to his left, seeing Thorin seated at the large dinner table. Daedric grinned at the brothers, and then, quickly found an empty seat beside Fili and Dwalin. Dwalin, the burly, gigantic warrior, laughed merrily as Daedric took his seat.

"Well, laddie, you've grown since we last meet!" exclaimed the massive dwarf. Daedric greeted Dwalin as they quickly touched foreheads. Daedric vaguely remembered all the tiring training sessions with the ardent fighter, the exhaustion, the sound of steel against steel, and the sweat rolling down his face.

"Thank you!" said Daedric happily. "I can't tell any difference from you, except for that growing belly! You've put on a few pounds, Dwalin."

"Don't make me kick yer' ass, lad," said Dwalin with a sarcastic growl. "If I wasn't told to act appropriately, I would slam your pretty face through this table!"

"You better hold that," said Daedric. "You'll be quite angry when I defeat you in a sparring session!"

"I'll be waiting."

Daedric turned and looked around the table. Besides the brothers and Dwalin, many of the dwarves were new to him; he knew Balin, too, and Bofur and his brother, Bifur. Everyone else, though, seemed to be enigmatic to the Man. Daedric couldn't place names to faces.

Bilbo, the exasperated hobbit, continuously brought out plates of food. He grumbled to himself as he placed plate after plate of food onto the table. One particular dwarf named Bombur was demolishing the food, and the other dwarves had to struggle and compete to eat. Daedric quickly grabbed any enticing food around him, and hoped to stuff himself before Bombur ate the food from his hands.

Daedric, his cloths and gear setting on his pony outside, sat near the hearth, listening to the dwarves converse. They were reminiscing, talking about past memories of Erebor and their hardships since the invasion of Smaug. Thorin was speaking to the senior members of the company, and that left Daedric, the brothers, and another dwarf named Ori, behind near the hearth. Ori was a scribe, and was transfixed in his book. Daedric watched him apathetically; he was never educated like the scribe.

Daedric clenched his hand. He could read and write, and that has his education. His entire life was spent learning how to parry and strike, or how to defeat an enemy. Daedric wasn't even educated when he was with his biological father.

Daedric was looking through an old box of decorations that the hobbit kept near the hearth. Daedric shifted through the box carefully, trying not to damage any item that resided inside the box.

Fili and Kili muttered nearby. Daedric was apathetic towards them, too.

Something tapped his shoulder, taking him from his stupor. Daedric shook his head, and looked over his shoulder. Bilbo Baggins was standing over him, staring at the box of decorations. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking," said Daedric as he held the box out to Bilbo. "I apologize-that was somewhat rude of me. I should've asked for permission."

Bilbo nodded and took the box. He set the box on the mantle of the hearth. He glanced back at Daedric. "What are you doing here? I know my races, and you're not a dwarf. What are you doing on this journey?"

Daedric looked into the fire. "I'm indebted, Master Baggins. I stand in an awkward position inside the company; I matter more than others. I'm a Dragoon."

Bilbo chuckled as he narrowed his eyes. "That's a joke-they don't exist. My father, Bunga, always said that Dragoons were mythical."

"Well, I'm proving your father wrong, then," said Daedric with a meek smile.

"Why aren't you with the other Dragoons? Why are you with these dwarves?" asked the inquisitive hobbit.

"My parents are dead, Master Baggins, and Thorin Oakenshield accepted me into his family and company. These dwarves are the only family I have," said Daedric. "They are completely dysfunctional, but I couldn't have asked more better friends and family, Master Baggins. I hope to add you to that list, too."

Daedric saw the hobbit crack a smile. "I'm an orphan, too, Dragoon. I understand your loneness, and I believe it's wonderful, but maybe not entirely healthy, that you lived with dwarves during your adolescence."

Daedric frowned. "What is unhealthy about them?"

"You're not an adult," said Bilbo with a tight smile. "Those belligerent dwarves could be unhealthy for your maturity, Dragoon."

"My name is Daedric," replied the Dragoon. "I'm not a true Dragoon, either. I just turned sixteen, which is the development age for Dragoons. I age and live longer than most Men, too. By now, I have outlived three generations of Men."

Bilbo nodded, mentally noting that. "You're an interesting race, Daedric. During these travels, I may ask questions; would you care if I asked questions?"

"I would be delighted to provide a sufficient answer," said Daedric with a smile.

Bilbo nodded and looked back at the box of decorations on the mantel. "To be honest, I'm no burglar. I haven't stolen anything in my life!"

"I can tell," Daedric replied, adding a chuckle after his words. "You're not the thieving type, Master Baggins. You're plump and unmuscular, which is deadly for thieves. They endure strong hardships, and you certainly haven't endured them, yourself."

Bilbo wagged his finger. "Looks can be deceiving, though."

Daedric chuckled. "That is true, Master Baggins."

Thorin looked around his company of dwarves. They sat in an opposite room, listening to the conversation between Bilbo and Daedric. Personally, Thorin didn't like the hobbit; he was unfit, unskilled, and unworthy of traveling with the dwarrows. Thorin would rather throw the hobbit off the Lonely Mountains. He had enough dwarrows to worry about, and this hobbit would only cause more discrepancies. Also, Daedric and his new conditions will provide enough stress.

Dawlin choltered. "Unhealthy? Damn that hobbit! I believe we're perfect for Daedric!"

"The lad deserves to be with his kin, brother," replied Balin, the white-haired dwarf. He sat on a stool beside Thorin. They had a friendly relationship. "He cannot receive the proper training by residing with us."

"That's rude!" sneered Nori, the thief amongst the company. While his trademark was stealing - much like Bilbo will be doing - Bilbo had the stealth factor. Nori was quite proficient at stealing, but his stealth was another complication that Thorin couldn't fix.

"Balin has a point," muttered Kili. "I love Daedric like my own brother, but he cannot train himself properly with us being around."

Thorin sighed heavily. "He wouldn't understand. Daedric is one of us, and he regards us as his family. I cannot send him away."

Balin smirked. The King has finally found someone to love, even if it wasn't a lass. Daedric is his surrogate son. Thorin would rather die and throw the Arkenstone into a lake than send Daedric away. No father could do that to their son.

"I agree with my brother," said Fili, "but he has to stay!"

"He's our only way to defeat Smaug!" exclaimed Dori, the brother of Nori. "O' course he's stayin'!"

"No," said Thorin. "Daedric is more than a weapon. He is one of us - and nothing will change that. I cannot rely on this hobbit, but I trust Daedric with our lives. This lad has shed blood for me, and I know he can defeat any hardship that falls upon him."

"What do you mean?" asked Gloin, another dwarf that is oblivious to Daedric and his nature.

Thorin sighed, reminiscing over the tragic event. "Daedric and I were traveling outside of Mordor. I was quite apathetic as I was searching for more training locations on a map I purchased. Daedric, who was twelve, according to Man years, was scanning the horizon. Behind us, two orcs had snuck under our noses. They attacked, and Daedric quickly apprehended the first. The second orc was creeping behind me, and I was focused on Daedric.

"The orc attacked me from behind, slamming his hilt into my skull. Dazed, I stumbled away, catching myself on a log. Daedric engaged the orc, but his weapon was damaged during the fight of the first orc. His sword broke, and the orc immobilized Daedric temporarily. I was still dazed, and the orc was preparing to kill me. The orc swung his twisted blade, but Daedric leapt into the sword, and took the blow for me. He nearly died for me that day, and I'm still grateful."

"Don't forget the part where you comforted and mother-henned me for the next four weeks," laughed Daedric as he entered the room. "You smothered me, practically."

Thorin furrowed his brow. "I apologize for my concern, then - I didn't want to lose you to an orc."

Daedric smiled. "I know, I was teasing. I'm grateful for your concern and smothering, Thorin Oakenshield." His words were warm and filled with merit.

"Thorin is an adad!" exclaimed Ori, the youngest of the dwarrows.

Thorin sent daggers towards Ori. "He's not my biological son, but-" he apprehensively paused. "-if you wish to use adad as the term, I guess I'm Daedric's adad."

The dwarves laughed amongst themselves, imagining their king as a father. Daedric, who's face was turning pink, turned his face away, remembering his actual father. Thorin noticed this, and threw himself off his seat and moved towards the Man. Daedric was surprisingly short compared to other Men, and stood the exact height as the dwarves - mainly because he wasn't done growing.

Thorin gripped Daedric's shoulder, who was facing away from him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Daedric said sheepishly. "I'm tired, though."

Thorin nodded understandingly. Last week, Daedric turned the ripe age of sixteen, and his powers would begin to mature. Daedric has succumbed to lassitude quite easily, now, and got tired and exhausted in the nights. Daedric often muttered about feeling sick, too. Thorin was somewhat concerned for his health and the toll of these powers.

"Aye," said Thorin. "We're all exhausted." He turned towards his company, his kin. Thorin took a deep breath, and looked amogst the company; every pair of eyes were gazing upon him.

"We should all retire for the night," said Thorin aloud, his voice stoic and hard. Daedric simply turned and sauntered towards the hearth in the adjacent room. The Dragoon took his seat near the hearth, and laid down. He was using his travel bag as a pillow, and using his large cloak as his blanket.

Almost every night was like this.

Daedric was staring into the flames when he heard footsteps behind him. He rolled over and saw the youngest set of brothers staring at him. Daedric smiled tiredly. "Hello."

"Are you feeling well?" asked Fili.

"I'm tired," Daedric said quickly. "I haven't gotten much sleep lately - I've been too excited, I guess."

Kili, the younger brother, chuckled. "You're lying, Daedric."

"What do you mean?"

"You talk very quickly and rushed when you're lying," laughed the younger brother. The archer sat next to Daedric. "We grew up together; we know all your little signs."

Daedric smiled warmly. "You two know me too well, I guess."

Fili took his seat next to Daedric. "You're our other brother - the littlest!"

Daedric sat tall and frowned. "I don't want to be the youngest, you blonde dork."

Fili threw an arm around his friend and pulled his close. He suddenly turned his arm inwards, and moved his shoulder, putting Daedric in a headlock. He began to ruffle his hair fiercely. "You're the youngest, you silly orc!" Fili laughed as Daedric shoved his shoulder into Fili's chest, knocking him over. Kili, who was missing the fun, dove onto the small pile of Man and dwarf.

The three laughed as they wrestled each other in the spacious room of the hobbit, who was watching them intently from another room. Bilbo shook his head. These people will be the death of me, I swear it!