Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.
Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.
Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!
Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.
I have to explain that this story is actually completed. Y'all will get an update at least once a day, but probably more than that, until it's all there. Hopefully y'all will continue to enjoy the ride! Let me know via review or PM! Thanks!
Part Four
Days passed. Annabelle remained determined to stay in Bree, and Dwalin remained convinced that she should return to Erebor with him. And so he became a fixture in the taproom, watching her from a table in one of the darker corners. Those who were frequent visitors to the inn became accustomed to the dour Dwarf in the corner and paid him no mind. And through it all, Annabelle continued to work. She brought him a mug of ale occasionally, but other than that, she ignored him as well.
Word spread quickly, however, that those who would insult or abuse Annabelle had best be ready to defend themselves.
Things settled into a routine. Dwalin would wake near sunrise each morning and greet her with a small smile and then settle into his spot in the taproom. He would remain there, barring trouble, until she returned to her room for the night.
It was beginning to wear on her nerves.
Then one afternoon a group of Men came in. They were rough, travel stained, and dangerous-looking. Annabelle went immediately to get them ale once they were seated and they watched her as she walked away again, and something in Dwalin's gut clenched.
They spoke quietly amongst themselves, and they caused no trouble, but their eyes never left her. Dwalin's unease increased when one left the inn and the other two completely stopped pretending not to watch her. Eyes followed her every move and he shifted, prepared to intervene if they did something untoward.
Nothing happened. Nothing save a meal and then they departed. And yet Dwalin couldn't relax. And he was too used to listening to those feelings to ignore them.
She was headed to the market the next morning when he fell in step with her. She, as usual, tried to ignore him and he put a hand on her arm. She stopped still and stared at him; he hadn't touched her since the morning he found her cheek bruised. "What is it?" she asked softly as she regarded him steadily.
"Be watchful," he said simply.
She nodded and started again for the market. It was strange, she thought, strange how he'd only been there a few days and she had already gotten used to having him nearby. She wasn't sure she liked it, but she was getting used to it.
When it came, the attack was swift. Dwalin was bowled over by the onrushing Men and Annabelle went to the ground beneath two of them, a scream torn from her as Dwalin threw off his own attacker and blocked the downward stroke of the knife.
He twisted his axe and the would-be assassin flew backward and he grabbed Annabelle and threw her behind him. "Come on then!" he snarled as he brought his axe up once more.
The Men backed away slowly. The leader sneered toward Dwalin as they turned away. "You win this time, Dwarf. But have a care. You can't be with her every moment of every day." And they were gone.
Dwalin turned to Annabelle and held down his hand to her. "Come on, lass," he said simply. "We're leaving. Now."
She took the outstretched hand and got to her feet, shaking. Those Men had tried to kill her! "Where are we going?" He had saved her life. Maybe she should have listened to him to start with.
"Home."