CHAPTER 3

A merry gathering indeed! Poor Bilbo's kitchen was in bedlam. There were dwarrows and food everywhere, not to mention Bilbo himself, who was sitting alone on a stool looking forlorn and nibbing on a biscuit. Gandalf sat me down towards the head of the table, just in time for Fili to come stomping along the table carrying large wooden tankards.

'Who wants an ale? There you go!'

I held out my hand as he reached me and smiled. He almost looked disbelieving, but smirked back and handed one over. He seated himself across from me, next to his brother, who elbowed him and whispered in his ear.

'Subtle,' I deadpanned, and took a large gulp of my ale. Ahhh, alcohol, one of my great loves. I sighed contentedly, ignoring the 'Durin's Folk' across from me. I let out a belch that was drowned out by Ori's. I laughed.

Gandalf commanded my attention and introduced me to the dwarrows in my vicinity – I think it was Bofur, Bifur and Gloin and Oin. Oin I remembered because he was the healer, and he was excited to hear that I was a healer in my homeland, and quickly offered to teach me the customs of Middle Earth healing. I accepted graciously, feeling excited about the new learning opportunity.

Most of the company were very interested in my presence, asking questions which were thankfully deflected by Gandalf. 'Miss Dunlap is a dwarf from another realm, although she is highly skilled and knowledgeable. She will be joining us on the quest and there is nothing more to be said about it.' He had simply said. They all accepted this without too much protest.

Thorin Oakenshield was the last dwarf to arrive, and I knew he was important by the way the atmosphere of the gathering changed to one of quiet reverence. Gandalf introduced me to him in front of the company, after Bilbo. 'Miss Bonnie Dunlap is a healer and a seer from a place far away from Middle Earth, and I wish for her to accompany us as the fifteenth member.'

Jesus, Gandy was making me sound like a bloody hemp-wearing hippy.

'Miss Dunlap-'

For the second time that day, I groaned, 'just stick with Bonnie, please.'

The dwarf king looked affronted. 'Very well, Bonnie. I am not altogether comfortable with a woman joining us on this quest, since you carry no weapon and I assume you are unable to defend yourself. However, if Gandalf says so, you will come, and on his head be it.' Definitely a king. I felt crushed. I was never one for sticking up for myself, so I looked at the ground instead.

Once Thorin was safely in the other room, Fili and Kili were at my sides. 'Don't mind our Uncle. He's stern but fair, and he doesn't wish for anything to happen to you.' Kili smiled softly at me.

'He's your uncle?' I asked, surprised. The brothers nodded.

'So Durin's Folk is like, House of Durin, or something. Like royalty?'

'Yes,' said Kili. 'Fili and I are the heirs. That's why we've joined Thorin on this quest. Come and listen, I think we're going to go over the contract with you and Mr Baggins.'

I sat quietly in the corner next to Kili, becoming more and more horrified at the prospect of this quest, to walk to this faraway mountain, get in through a secret door that nobody knew of, slay a dragon and rebuild the kingdom of Erebor.

Bilbo fainted. I thought about joining him. Instead I rushed over and put him in the recovery position, then went back to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Tea seemed to be the answer to everything in the Shire.

Gandalf gave Bilbo a good telling off while I sat with Oin and talked about the basics of wound care. Oin was as deaf as a post so I had to shout a bit. We probably would need to learn sign language – heaven forbid I needed to talk about something private, like women's business. Oin was a midwife as well as a healer, so I also asked many questions about dwarven child-bearing. You can imagine my horror when I discovered that the gestation period for dwarrows was years, not months. Oin didn't seem to care that I knew nothing about dwarf reproduction and told animated stories about the dwarflings he'd delivered over the years, including one that he'd pulled out by the hands, like Superman.

'I need more alcohol,' I said, feeling quite nauseated, thinking of that poor dwarf lady's birth canal, or what remained of it, anyway.

Oin laughed and got up. 'Come along, lass. It's time for pipe and song!'

The company gathered in Bilbo's sitting room in front of the fire, and many of them pulled out spectacular wooden pipes and began packing them with pipe weed from little leather pouches.

Oh, this is something I could enjoy. I rushed to the little spare room and got my little brass pipe and stash tin out of my bag. Remember when I said I loved drugs much more than I should? Well, I wasn't kidding.

The dwarrows howled with laughter at my little pipe, but I happily ignored them and packed a couple of buds into the bowl, lit it up and inhaled. Ahhh, wacky tabacky, my other great love, that little green leaf that brings such joy and serenity to otherwise troubled lives. Highly illegal back home of course, but hey, I lacked proper judgement, and all I ever did when stoned was roll around on the floor and eat everything I could find.

I caught Fili's eye. 'What's that you're smoking?'

'Old Toby. It's the finest weed in the Southfarthing!' Where have I heard that before?

'And what's your pipe-weed of choice, Bonnie?'

'Umm…' I thought wacky tabacky or marijuana was a bit much, so I settled with, 'Mary-Jane. It's great, you should try it, although I can't guarantee you won't be seeing any cartoon characters in your peripheral vision later.'

He looked at me, puzzled, but took my pipe anyway, and my belly did a weird little flip as his rough fingers brushed mine. I immediately had some horribly intrusive thoughts of just what those moustache braids felt like between my fingers.

Deep breaths…I'm about to get a prince stoned…

I watched him draw in a breath through the pipe, exhale, and smile appreciatively before handing the pipe back. He kept looking, and smiling, and he had dimples! Oh my god. He handed his pipe over to me, his pipe, and the Old Toby was lovely and sweet. I closed my eyes and let my shoulders drop, deep in thought.

On one hand, there was the cynical, drug-addled doctor who just wanted to go home and keep working in the same miserable hospital as before, but then there was another part of me, a bigger part, that wanted to have this adventure with all the walking and the dragon and the possibility of lacerations and incineration, and see what would happen with this gorgeous dwarf sitting in front of me.

And they sang. All the humming and the resonance and deep timbres, far over the Misty Mountains cold, to dungeons deep, and caverns old. It went beyond me. So much history and pain and loss was in that song, and I resolved to see it through, to help reclaim this strange homeland called Erebor.

And I'm going to find all the neat ways of getting high in Middle Earth, I thought, and on that happy note, I excused myself for the evening and slept soundly in the little spare room down Bilbo's hallway, in Bag End, Under Hill.