Annnnnd chapter 2 is here! I hope anyone who reads it, enjoys. (I'm kinda self-conscious about my writing skills)

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I take no time to dally. I make my way to the call of the trees. Once within the safe grasp of the forest, I stand, listening.

Men and dwarrow are deaf to the cries of the greenery around them. Elves hear their mutters… but the Faye, we hear them clearly. Though I cannot see, the nature of this world acts as my sight.

The shire… I have heard talk of this area. 'Land of the Children' as Men take to calling it. Home of the Hobbits. What in Arda is that Gandalf planning? Nevertheless, I start my journey to the shire. Specifically, Hobbiton. I will only know the whole of Gandalf's scheme at the meeting that is to take place there.

~o~

Two weeks. Two weeks filled with uneventful days is what it took to arrive. From what I can tell, night has fallen. The cool, quiet air is testament. There are not many souls about. I hear the pattering of feet to my right, quiet whispering ahead of me, and nothing else. But I sense much peace here. The tinkering wisps of the flowers is quite loud. I can only wonder how beautiful it is for the various plants here to be so delighted.

Stepping forward, a soft vine slowly winds around my fingers, stopping my tracks. I listen to it's lilting whispers as it informs me where I must go. I know this is Gandalf's doing. The wizard knows my connection with nature and thus far has used this to his advantage. What a meddling wizard he is.

Bag End is where I must go. Atop the highest hills it lies. It is not difficult to find and is not due to the fact of slithering vines leading me. No… well, yes. No amount of acute senses can truly fill the void my sight left. So with the gentle nudges of vines and the sort, I find myself in front of a… door. Listening intently, I hear many voices. Low and gruff voices, laughter and… Gandalf. I know those particular mutterings.

With no further delay, I raise my fist and knock on the entrance. Strangely, all goes silent… Quite suddenly, the door opens with a slight creak.

"I thought that was the last of that loud lot," Clearing their throat, the unknown voice spoke again, "Good evening, how may I… help you?"

"Apologies, I did not mean to intrude. I am Linnea, Illúvatar be with you. Is there a… wizard here?"

"No, no, I welcome kind folk just as any other hobbit. Bilbo Baggins, at your service, " He pauses and grumbles in annoyance, "If a certain Gandalf is who you seek, then yes. He is here. Please, come in."

I slightly nod and carefully step through the entrance. It is warm, the atmosphere calm. Taking a breath in, I smell various foods and… leather? Odd.

"Feel free to remove your cloak and the like. Those noisy dwarves already made a mess here." Bilbo grumbles. I know he must be a Hobbit. He is quite short as far as I can tell, and the pattering of large feet on wooden floor sounds as he walks. Yes… he is a Hobbit.

"I will save you more clutter by keeping my cloak on, Master Hobbit. Much than-"

"Ah! Linnea, dear, it is wonderful to have you here. I see you have met Bilbo, yes. Come, you must meet the others." Gandalf says. Grasping my shoulder, he quietly leads me forward. As soon as we stop, the strong scent of leathers, oils, dirt, and smoke invade my nose. The odor is surprisingly bearable, and very dwarf-life.

"Who is this stranger, Gandalf?" Turning my head towards the deep voice, I sigh. Of course the wizard would neglect to tell of my arrival.

"Linnea. I cannot say I am surprised that you do not know of me." Mutters were travelling back and forth between unseen persons.

"A woman? If you think I will allow a woman to journey with us, you are more a fool than I believed, wizard." This unknown dwarf is angry. Rightly so, I suppose. I also realize that Gandalf did not mention of me being a woman.

"Now Thorin, Linnea will aid us greatly on this quest. You-"

"A burglar Hobbit with no training or experience with weapons or travel is one matter. A frail woman is quite different. I will not allow two potential burdens on my journey."

To say I was not offended would be a very obvious lie. I know dwarrow value their women more than any jewel, however, I am no dwarf. I doubt this company is aware of what I am. Oh, Gandalf, what a mess you have made.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I know of you. Prince of a once great kingdom. Now, a homeless king. Do not let my appearance affect your judgement." My tone is not hate-filled and I hold no ill-will towards the dwarf king. However, I am much too old to have patience for this thick-headed man.

"Your appearance is unknown to us due to the hood of your cloak. I merely judge based upon the voice I hear."

Raising my hand to my head, I feel cloth. My hood is so often upon my locks that I tend to forget it is there. And so, I silently remove it.

"Your race of Men look upon the dwarrow as filthy creatures. Yet we forge your swords and armor. You have no place here, girl." Thorin says coldly.

I suppose I do not fault him for that. I am aware of the way Men treat those they think below them. And I know the cruelty they lash out unto others… for they have extended such coldness to my people before.

"I know well how cruel Men can be. I, however, am not of such a race, despite my likeness to them. I am of the Feien, Master Dwarf. And I am no girl; I am much older than I seem."

"I thought Faye had wings-"

"Quiet now, Ori! You should not speak to strange folk."

I turn towards the new voices. I assume they are quite close by their interaction… perhaps a familial bond?

"Aye, we all know the children tales of the Feien folk. An' this lass here 'as no wings." A gruff voice huffed this out.

"Gloin is right, Thorin. This lass is taking us for fools." This one's voice is rough… the sound of one who has seen the horrors of this world.

At this point, all of the dwarves begin speaking loudly, each attempting to be heard over the other. I can only cradle my temples in pain and annoyance. Dear Eru, why must I bear this. And curse that wizard… oh, yes…

"QUIET!," Thorin roars loudly, all the while worsening the pain in my head, "It matters not of the tales. You remain a woman and you will not come."

"Whether you allow me to accompany you or not is of no consequence to me. I care not. I am only here due to the insistence of a troublesome wizard." So much trouble and I have not been here for more than a few minutes.

"Now, now, Thorin," Gandalf starts, "The journey ahead of you is perilous. What help Lady Linnea can offer will only benefit your goal to take back Erebor." He pauses but I sense a strange aura… Oh, that wizard. Magic is one way to convince a thick-headed dwarf. Poor sod.

The silence stretches on for moments. If it were not for the smell of leather and smoke, I would have thought I was alone.

"Thorin, you are not truly thinking of-"

"What have you to offer our company, Girl?" Thorin questions, a strong undertone of annoyance in his voice.

"To your company, nothing. To your quest… I offer my blades. To your wounds, I offer my magicks." I truly wish to leave. If it were not for Gandalf, I would not be here. This journey, I fear, will end only in pain. I do not know what this quest entails, nor do I know what is to become of me. And though I have this grand urge to run… There is a prickling in my heart to see this quest done.

"I will not be responsible for your safety," I expect no less, my well-being is my burden, "Balin, give the girl a contract." With no other word, heavy stomps pass by and fade.

Those left in the room shuffle but do not leave. The crinkling of parchment sounds and a soft click of what I assume is a quill seems quite loud in the silence.

"We dwarrow are quite thorough in the writings of contracts, lass. Perhaps it would be best to have a seat and read. If there are questions, you have but to ask." I like this voice. It is soft and kind…

"...Gandalf." Oh that wizard! What mess he makes.

"Yes, dear?"

"Do not act so innocent. You are aware of what you have neglected to inform the dwarves of."

"Perhaps you would be so kind as to tell us, lass." Oh what a kindly dwarf, Balin.

"I cannot see. Therefore, I cannot read.," I tiredly offer, "Do not take my ailment as weakness. I have travelled alone throughout the wilds for many years."

The wilds of Middle-Earth are known quite well to me. I have been on my own for nearly three-hundred years. Yes, I am no stranger to the perils that afflict this world.