Chapter 2:

Thorin Oakinshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, rightful King under the Mountain, was not amused. Gandalf the Grey had told him that the Halfling's residence would be easy to find. However, all of the residences of this town—Hobbiton, he thought it was called—all looked very much alike. As he wandered down yet another street, looking for a round door with a distinguishing mark of some kind, he suddenly noticed something lying in the middle of the street ahead. Coming right up to it, he found it was a body. He knelt beside it, assuming it was some Halfling that was too drunk to make it back to his home. However, when he touched the person, he discovered the person was completely soaking wet and everything about them was freezing cold, as if they had jumped in a river in the dead of winter. Startled, Thorin quickly ripped back the deep hood of the person's cloak to find the unconscious, deathly pale face of a young woman there. Good grief, what was she doing out here? And why was she so cold? By hovering his hand near her nose and mouth, he was relieved to feel her breathing, but her breaths were shallow and uneven.

Thorin did not really want to have to deal with another complication to his journey, but his conscience as a honorable dwarf refused to let him leave her. Scooping her up in his arms, he found that she weighed much less that he expected, but was still heavy from all of the wet clothes. He continued down the street, praying that he would find this blasted halfling's home. Finally, he noticed a glowing rune on the bottom of the door on the last home on the street. He quickly mounted the steps that led to the door, and lightly kicked the door with the toe of his boot since he could not knock.

A few moments later, the familiar face of his nephew Kili greeted him as the door opened.

"Hello, Uncle! We were beginning to wonder—who is that?" Kili's dark eyes fell on the girl in his uncle's arms.

"I don't know, but something is wrong with her; she wet through and freezing cold," he shortly answered, striding into the home to find the nearest fire to place her by. Gandalf instantly appeared at his side, motioning him into what looked like a parlor. Thorin and Ganalf made quick work of taking off the girl's cloak, belt and boots, leaving her in her tunic and leggings to protect her modesty.

"She needs to be close to the fire," Gandalf said, so Thorin gently laid her out on the rug directly in front of the fire. The dwarf prince grabbed a pillow from a nearby armchair and carefully placed it beneath her head.

Just then, a short fellow with curly brown hair came in with several quilts in his arms. These he unfolded and helped Thorin drape over the girl's still frame. All of the other dwarves watched from the kitchen while his all took place.

With Thorin was convinced that his young charge was sufficiently covered, he leaned back on his heels with a sigh. "I thought you said that this place would be easy to find, Gandalf. I lost my way twice. Then, I found her in the middle of the street."

"I think you'd better sit down and tell us everything," the wizard said, motioning towards the kitchen. With one last look at the girl, Thorin rose, dropped his coat off onto a chair and joined the other dwarves.