Authors Note: Hello! Welcome back to Crash and Burn. This is the fourth chapter of this story and I hope you enjoy it! This is my first Hobbit story and I've only seen the movies so I'm sort of basing my timeline with the movies timeline.
*Notice*: I would like to let everyone know that I am in search for a co-author/Beta Reader or someone who'd just like to help me get my ideas in check and all that stuff. So if you're interested shoot me a PM please! :)
Summary: (AU where Tolkien never wrote the books and no movies were made) A girl falls into the world of Middle Earth, a place her mother would tell her stories of when she was younger. A place she never thought actually existed. There was no way she could actually be there. "I mean those stories; they were all just fairy tales, right?" "No, they weren't." Kili x OC
Now, I know there are quite a few stories in which a girl from "our" world falls into Middle Earth but I will try to make the storyline as unique and different as possible which with my character I think it will be. Now that's quite enough of my blabbering.
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own The Hobbit; I only own my OC's and their storyline.
I stop in front of the freshly painted green door, and my hand hovers above it. I wanted to knock but it seems as though my body is not responding to the command.
I sigh loudly rubbing my face with my hand. What was I doing here? Is this the guy who's going to get me back home?
After contemplating what the fuck I was going to do, I finally knocked on the door. A small little fellow standing about 3'6, with a small nose and brown eyes answered the door and I smiled, albeit it was probably one of those really creepy "I'm-thinking-about-something-you-don't-wanna-know-smiles".
I'm finally fucking taller than someone! Though he kind of looks like a man child, maybe his spine is fucked up and he didn't grow right.
He looked at me weirdly while my small 5'2 frame shook a little as I tried to contain my laughter which just ended up coming out as dying seal noises.
"Hello. You are Mr. Baggins I presume?" I asked as politely as I could, I never was one for politeness but this guy looked like he was ready to blow a gasket and I could already see the little veins in his forehead start to protrude violently, so I shut my mouth.
His raised shoulders sagged a little and he nodded with a small smile. "Yes, that would be me. You are?"
"I'm Rosalia. Rosalia Amaro. I'm uh.. here for the party?" I didn't know whether I should stick my hand out so it was moving back and forth between our bodies awkwardly.
He sighed and dragged a hand over his face, "Come inside."
I followed him through the small door and glanced around the surprisingly cozy home. With it being underground and all I was expecting something more .. well more like dirt.
"Your home is very cozy, Mr. Baggins. I like it." I looked at him kindly, the home reminding me of my own before..
"Call me Bilbo, Miss Rosalia." He said before closing the door and glancing back at it hoping that no one else was raiding his home for the night as he lead me through the home and into the kitchen.
I got into the room and froze at what I saw; a very muscular man with a large spiky Mohawk and tattoos was sitting at the table, practically inhaling the food like he was a vacuum. He was abnormally shorter than the normal man, but seemed taller than Bilbo.
When he finally noticed I was standing there he glared at me suspiciously. He obviously couldn't make out who I was under the hood of the baggy cloak Gandalf gave to me after noticing how "inappropriate" the clothing I was wearing when I arrived. I thanked God for the stupid cloak because over my very short time in this land called "Middle Earth" I'd begun to realize that women weren't regarded as much more than house workers and common whores.
She rolled her eyes under her hood and huffed quietly. I swear to god, if one guy says something about me being a woman I will fucking knock his teeth down his throat and rip his heart out through his fucking asshole. Viva la revolution!
I sat down across from the dwarf man and nodded at him in greeting. Bilbo excused himself and went to get something for me to eat, muttering about unwanted visitors and dwarves.
Do I look like I want to be here man child? No, so suck it up and be a good host.
However before Bilbo could get my food another knock rang at the door and I moved to get it at the same time he did.
His hand landed on the handle first and he yanked it open almost knocking me in the face if I hadn't moved out of the way.
An old, white haired "dwarf" from what I gathered stood at the door with a kind smile.
"Balin, at your service."
As Bilbo began sputtering about how there wasn't a party, I slowly shimmied back towards the kitchen wishing to be alone and get a bit of food before the two dwarfs devoured it all.
Not too long after Bilbo was forced to answer the door again, however this time he put up a fight and tried to shut the door in the new guests faces. After they had obviously made their way inside I heard Bilbo probably having an ulcer over his mother's glory box.
I shrugged and put my focus on the two hot rolls I had stolen from the almost empty basket sitting in the middle of the table.
Two velvety and masculine voices floated from the entrance into the dining room, where I was quietly sitting ripping pieces of the roll off and popping it into my mouth across from the two brothers who'd almost knocked each other's brains out when greeting one another.
I'm just happy the old wrinkly one shook my hand and didn't knock my brains out cause damn.
The voices piqued my attention and I grinned lightly under the cover of my hood (which I had begun to notice even smelled like sweaty man, ew) and prayed to whatever god there was that those two looked as good as they sounded.
Hey, a girl's gotta have some nice things to look at in a place like this!
As I refocused my attention on the last roll, I didn't notice two men walk into the dining room nor did I notice either one sit on both of my sided. Suddenly the roll was ripped out of my hands and I let out a shocked gasp, when I turned to find the culprit I was met with two stunning brown eyes, sparkling with mischief.
The unexplainably hot dwarf shoved my roll into his mouth and promptly swallowed before looking at me and exclaiming that it was very good.
Oh gee fucking thanks, dude.
I glared at him from under the confines of my handy dandy hood and turned around to face away from him. Only to be met with a pair of ocean blue eyes and a blond mustache, which might I saw suited him very, very well.
"Fílí!" he said, sticking his hand out at me.
"And Kílí!" the hot roll stealer piped up from behind me.
"At your service." I shook Fílí's hand and nodded at both of them before realizing that they obviously were waiting for me to say something. I began to fiddle with the little strings coming out from the seams of my gloves and bounce my leg up and down, a habit I've been doing ever since I could remember.
Thankfully, a large thump came from the front door and I leaned over the table a little to get a view of what was happening. A pile of crumpled dwarves were on the floor and Gandalf was standing a little to the side, perfectly fine and well.. un-crumpled.
I waved at him when he looked at me and gave him a small smile; he smiled back and was about to greet me before dwarves began running around with food and stuffing it all onto the dining room table. My earlier prickliness had dissipated at the appearance of the two extremely good looking dwarves and Gandalf, I kinda enjoyed the old guys company even if he was a little more odd I guess.
I found that odd people seemed to be the most fun during my time partying in the Big Apple, which I did more often than not.
I watched silently as the dwarves practically annihilated the food and my nose scrunched up in disgust, I mean I wasn't exactly the cleanest eater but these guys were shoveling their food down like they hadn't eaten in twenty days.
My silent disgust was broken when the dwarf who introduced himself as Fílí began walking across the table, handing large jugs of beer to those that arrived before stopping in front of me. I keep my head down and stare at his knees because I knew that if I met his eyes he'd notice for sure I was a girl, unless he was blind and he certainly did not seem blind.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Kílí (um, sploosh), grinning at his brother and then looking back at me before I snap my head around and met with a large mug of ale in front of me.
"Drink up!" one of the dwarves shouts, and suddenly I'm the only one not guzzling down the drink.
Once they've all finished the one with the curved moustache and cheerful demeanor looks at me oddly – Bofur, I think his name was. He glances down at my cup and then back at me, smiling encouragingly.
"Come on!" he urges, so I hesitantly pick the cup up hoping that it tastes like beer back home and not like rat piss before bringing it to my lips and tipping my head back.
The liquid flows down my throat and it surprisingly does not taste bad, I continued drinking wanting to prove myself in some way to these men and in my need to prove myself I did not feel the hood begin to fall inch by inch off my head until it comes completely off as I slam the cup onto the table, a moustache of foam left on my upper lip and a shit eating grin on my face.
Murmurs break out across the table as all the dwarves now stare at me.
"I guess the cat's outta the bag, huh?" I say, a nervous chuckle escaping me and my eyes darting around gauging the reactions.
"You're a woman?" Fílí says, having returned to his original spot beside me.
"No, I'm the queen of Persia." I roll my eyes, a playful smile on my face.
At this everyone in the room begins speaking, the young one Ori, pulls out a journal and gets ready to write down what I presumed was what I'd just said.
"A queen!" Bofur exclaims, waving his arms around in excitement. "What are you doing here?"
"Persia? I've never heard of that.." Balin says, looking as if he was wracking his brain to figure out what Persia is.
"I was joking!" I shout out over the rising voices.
How did they not know what Persia was? Suddenly, I remembered that I probably wasn't even on my Earth anymore, maybe not even in my dimension and that their world was vastly different from mine. Sadness filled me as I thought of my friends, and Nicholas. Oh, Nicky. I'll probably never see him again. I lower my head and stare at the table, hoping that whoever Gandalf was taking me to they'd be able to get me home.
"Then where are ye from?" Dwalin asks, calculating me with cold eyes. Oh, we're definitely not going to have an easy time getting along.
"What's it to you, who gives a shit where I'm from?" I snap at him. Just thinking about home made me want to cry, I think I'd have a mental breakdown if I started talking about it.
If I hadn't been so sad I might've laughed at the look on everyone's faces but I was too in my own mind to realise it, I vaguely heard Gandalf say something but I was already out the room.
I wandered around Bilbo's home eventually ending up at the end of the hallways facing the door looking into a small room with maps, pieces of paper and books strewn around. At the edge of the room looking out of a window was a large, in hobbit proportions, desk with a hobbit sized chair.
I wander around the room for a bit before sitting down next to one of the bookcases, resting my head on my knees. I let out a yawn and realize that I have barely slept since I got here, and slowly I drift asleep.
I open my eyes and am met with a grand set of stairs in front of me; they scale so high that I can't even see where they end. I try looking around but wherever the stairs aren't the only thing I see is darkness. Sighing I decide that to get through this dream I must go up the stairs.
I trudge up the stairs, my leather clad feet knocking against the dark marble of the steps. A chill sets in the air and I wrap my arms around myself, my breath coming out in small white puffs of air.
Finally I reach the last step, a large oaken door standing in front of me, I can footsteps and the faint sounds of people talking floating through the door.
I grip the golden handle and pull the door open, my breath hitching in my throat.
I stood in a hall seemingly carved out of stone; the ceilings were so high that I had to strain my eyes to see the carving etched into the surface. Along the hall there were 6 massive pillars, 3 on either side and each one thicker than me combined four times over. On the pillar furthest from me there were men carving, I moved closer to see the intricate dress the statue was wearing and watched in fascination as they carved out two eyes. I continued down the gargantuan hall people bustling around me, and excited murmurs spreading through the crowd gathered at the other end of the hall.
"It's the young Princess' change day!" a young boy whispers excitedly to his father.
"Yes, Thomas it is." The man replies, his eyes fixed on the large door separating the town from the castle.
"Will she continue to play with us, Father?" Thomas asks, big round eyes staring hopefully at the older man.
"I doubt she'll be able to stay away."
My attention is pulled towards the doors which open with a bang. A huge procession of guards dressed in ceremonial armor begin walking into the square and behind them follows a large man, dressed regally in a silky tunic and a heavy looking purple cape trailing behind him, attached around his neck with a large brooch.
He seems especially intimidating, yet strikingly handsome as well. The crown resting on his tousled black hair, sharp ice blue eyes and a charming smile could melt anyone into a puddle. Next to him stood a smaller yet equally as beautiful woman, smiling lovingly at the crowd and waving occasionally.
Behind them stood five other people, four of them men and the last a woman.
"Oh, look how handsome Prince Steffon is! He would make a fine King." One woman beside me murmured.
"We know for sure that the children all come from Queen Rhaelle and King Domeric, they have such a resemblance to their parents."
Finally the crowd quieted down as the main attraction came through the door on a stunning black stallion. Suddenly the crowd began to thicken and as I tried to peek around everyone to see her face the people around me began to get closer and closer until I was so squished I felt like I couldn't breathe.
I begin to panic and my breath is coming out in short gasps, black begins to tint my vision and I fall to the ground my eyes fluttering closed.
With a startled gasp I wake up to loud shouting coming from the kitchen. With a groan I rub the sleep out of my eyes and stand up shakily stretching my arms above my head. Relishing in the sound of my spine cracking, I crack open an eye and I'm met with a view of the stars outside the window. I move closer and with dread I notice that the stars here look nothing like they do back home.
Standing in Bilbo's study I finally realise that I am stuck here for god knows how long, and I might emphasis on might see the people I care about again.
My friends were all I had left and now...
Now I'm truly alone.
A thunderous voice echoes throughout the hobbit hole in a language I do not understand, and I decide to check out what's happening now.
Not like things could get any worse, right?
And that's the end of chapter 4. Let me know what you think, how you like Rosalia so far and what you'd like to see in the future chapters! Reviews fuel my motivation to write so leave lots of reviews please.
Until next time.
-TheNightGirl.