The hobbit's home was called Bag-End. It was just like every other hobbit home, dug into the ground with a little round door painted green with a glowing blue rune scratched onto the door. Mirima tied Fist up next to a couple of other ponies already there then opened the gate, climbing the steps past the flowerbeds before banging her fist against the door.

"Who is it now?" A slightly panicked voice cried from the other side moments before the door was torn open by a small being with an arm full of weapons. "You've got the wrong house, I'm sorry, you'll have to leave."

"Very convincing." Mirima rolled her eyes, pushing her way inside. "Nice hole you got here."

"Ah! Mirima, good to see you made it." Balin's voice called from the pantry and he stepped out to greet her. "Mirima, this is Mr Baggins." He introduced. "Come, help us lay the table for the others." Mirima glanced to the hobbit who fidgeted nervously, his eyes wide as he watched the dwarves carry plates of food from his pantry to the table.

Mirima tossed her weapons and coat aside, flinging the latter onto a rack with an expert flick. "Here, take these." Balin shoved a large plate of sausages and another full of tomatoes at her.

"So this is the infamous Miss Mirima." A tough voice said, drawing Mirima's attention to them. Even for a dwarf he was tall, with the top of his head shaved clean and tattooed in dark ink.

"I am." She answered. "Who're you?"

"Oh, Mirima, this is my brother Dwalin. Brother, this is the woman I mentioned earlier." Dwalin nodded his head, his arms folded across his thick chest. Finally he held out a hand which Mirima gripped after juggling the two plates onto one arm.

"Pleasure to meet you." He nodded his head then let go. Mirima took the plates of food into the room where the long table was set up, two younger dwarves already rolling out a tablecloth and setting up plates, knives and forks.

"Hey Kili, it's her!" The dirty blond haired one punched his brother and pointed to Mirima as she entered, putting down both plates.

"Her has a name, don't you know?" She shot at them with a playful grin. "But Your Majesty will do just fine."

"She's just like uncle said." The dark haired one named Kili laughed, tossing her a knife which she caught and set down, lifting her other hand to catch the matching fork.

"You mean Thorin?" Mirima searched her memory then smiled even wider. "You must be the twins, Fili and Kili?"

"Pleasure to make you're acquaintance ma'am." Fili bowed flamboyantly with his brother, their movements almost indistinguishable. "Our uncle told us about you."

"He mentioned you a few times too." Mirima answered as she continued to catch knives, forks and plates as the twins tossed them at her with flourished flicks of their wrists. By now poor Mr Baggins was wound up into a frantic state so when the bell rang he began to shout angrily.

"There's no one home! Go away and bother somebody else!" He seethed deeply, tossing aside the weapons that he had been carrying around with him. "If this is some clot-head's idea of a joke then well," he grabbed the handle and proceeded to wrench it open. "It is in very poor taste!" The moment the door was open wide enough Mirima burst out laughing, seeing a hoard of dwarves come tumbling through the door, all of them yelping and yelling at one another to move.

"Gandalf." Bilbo sighed, seeing the wizard as he poked his head down through the door. As the dwarves untangled themselves and managed to stand up Mirima felt her spirits rise as she realised that tonight was going to be one worthy of remembrance.

As one by one they filtered into the dining room Mirima dumbly stood there, accepting each handshake as each dwarf introduced themselves. "Evening, Gloin and Oin at your service." A red headed dwarf gripped her hand in a hold so tight she thought her fingers were going to break.

"Bofur is my name, ma'am, pleasure to meet you!" A cheerful looking dwarf shook her hand vigorously before taking a seat. One by one each dwarf was introduced by either themselves or by someone else. There was Bifur, Bombur, Ori, Nori and Dori then everyone was sat down.

Mirima found herself next to Gandalf who gave her a slightly worried look as the banquet began. Mirima grabbed what she could as she saw everything suddenly disappearing. When she saw Bofur going for the last chicken leg she whipped out her hand, slapping his aside and grabbed it quickly before he could.

"Hey that was mine!" He stared at her in disbelief. She tore into the flesh with a grin.

"Not anymore!" She replied and the others all laughed as Bofur lunged across the table to try and snatch the leg back.

"Give it here lass." He crawled forwards, scattering plates and food as Mirima leaned back, tearing into the leg quickly and chewing well before swallowing.

"Go on Bofur!" Kili yelled and others cheered in response but Mirima lifted up a foot and kicked at Bofur, knocking him all the way back into his seat. Another hearty cheer arose and Mirima lifted her pint, toasting goodwill aimed at Bofur who grinned and raised own pint in reply. He picked up some left-over food from his plate and shouted over the noise. "Bombur catch!" He threw it and Bombur opened his mouth, catching the food expertly then lifted his arms victoriously as everyone cheered.

"Who wants another ale? Here you go." Fili climbed over the table, handing out refills to everyone. Mirima grabbed one for him before they could all disappear.

"Let him have another drink!" Dwalin grabbed a mug and poured its contents into Oin's hearing trumpet which made him jump as it leaked into his ear. The roaring of laughter never diminished as Oin took his trumpet and blew into the hole, spurting out the frothy ale onto the table.

"On the count of three!" Someone yelled and instantly everyone grabbed their mugs. Mirima picked hers up then waited as Kili counted.

"One…two…three!" Then she threw back her head to drain her ale, pouring half of it down her neck and front. One after the other several of the dwarves released massive burps but none as large and loud as Ori's who continued for a good duration before he was heartily clapped on the back. With a full belly Mirima got up from the table and stretched, wandering about the house curiously as she had never actually seen the inside of a hobbit hole before.

Bilbo was frantically trying to bring some order to the dwarves as they roamed around his house. His voice broke in several places due to his stress levels obviously rising. "Excuse me that is a doily, not a dishcloth!" He snatched the doily from Nori who brushed the hobbit off with a wave of his hand.

"But it's full of holes." Bofur pointed out in confusion as he continued to drink his ninth ale.

"It's supposed to look like that it's crochet." The hobbit tried to explain.

"Oh and a wonderful game it is too, if you've got the balls for it." Mirima laughed at Bofur's quick wit, picking up a half-eaten bread roll and tossed it into the waste basket. She continued to pick up random items from the floor and table, pushing Fili aside with a playful grin as he tried to sweep crumbs under the rug.

"Let me do that." She rolled her eyes, taking the brush and began to sweep it into a pan, clearing up the crumbs by crawling under the table and through the legs of the dwarves as they began to clear up.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?" Ori was very sweet, Mirima could not help but smile at the youngest of the dwarves from under the table.

"Here you go Ori, give that to me." Fili stepped forwards, taking the plate then turned around and tossed it to Kili who caught it neatly in his hand and threw it on, turning just in time to catch the next one. As the dishware flew through the air Bilbo's voice squeaked again as he tried to chase after it all.

"Excuse me that's my mother's West Farthing crockery, it's over a thousand years old!" He hurried past the dining room, pausing only to call out at those who were scraping utensils against one another, banging their feet and fists in a matched rhythm. "Can-can you not do that you'll blunt them!"

"Ooh you hear that lads?" Bofur called out with a grin. "He said we'll blunt the knives." Mirima pulled out her pipe and sat down, folding her arms across her chest and kicking up her feet.

"Blunt the knives bend the forks." Kili began as he and the others continued to throw the plates and bowls about the place.

"Smash the bottles and burn the corks.
Chip the glasses and crack the plates
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
Cut the cloth and tread on the fat
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat
Pour the milk on the pantry floor
Splash the wine on every door
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl
Pound them up with a thumping pole
And when you've finished, if they are whole
Send them down the hall to roll
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

At the end Bilbo pushed his way into the dining room where all the dishes and plates were stacked neatly, cleanly and they were all intact. Everyone laughed merrily, beaming with wide smiles as Bilbo gave a shaky smile of relief.

Mirima grinned as she chewed on the end of her pipe, running her tongue over her teeth. Three loud knocks sounded at the door and everything fell silent. Gandalf lifted his head and sighed softly. "He's here." He went to the door and opened it. Instantly Mirima knew the voice as he spoke.

"Gandalf." Thorin Oakenshield said as the wizard allowed him in. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all if it hadn't been for that mark on the door."

"Mark?" Bilbo frowned, looking over his door carefully. "There's no mark on that door it was painted a week ago!"

"There is a mark as I put it there myself." Gandalf informed him simply then turned to face the both of them. "Bilbo Baggins allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." Thorin turned to the hobbit with a critical gaze.

"So, this is the hobbit." He folded his arms across his chest and began to walk circles around Bilbo. "Tell me Mr Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon?"

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" Bilbo drew himself up nervously as he faced Thorin.

"Well if you must know I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know but I fail to see how that's relevant."

"Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." The dwarves all chuckled except for Mirima who remained silent, holding her pipe between her teeth. Everyone trailed into the dining room but before Thorin followed his eyes glanced over to Mirima who was looking at the ground in deep thought, frowning ever so slightly.

Before she looked up he quickly looked away again. He sat down and nodded to Balin gratefully as he placed a bowl of soup before him. "So what news from the meeting at Ered Luin? Did they all come?"

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms." He nodded in reply and the dwarves all murmured with cheer.

"And what do the dwarves from the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin continued and everyone hushed down again. "Is Dain with us?" There was a moment of quiet before Thorin answered.

"They will not come. They say this is our quest and ours alone." Disappointment ensured in everyone's faces.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked with a hint of curiosity.

"Ah Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." As he spread out a map on the table Bilbo brought over a candle so that the map could be seen more clearly. "Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak." Gandalf trailed a finger across the paper which Bilbo leaned down to read.

"The Lonely Mountain."

"Aye, Oin has read the portents and the portents say that it is time." Gloin said determinedly.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. When the birds of old return to Erebor, the rein of the beast will end." Bilbo's face paled at the word beast.

"Beast?" He repeated worriedly. "What beast?"

"Oh that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." Bofur explained calmly as he leaned back in his chair. "Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals." He listed before Bilbo cut him off.

"Yes I know what a dragon is." Ori thumped the table loudly and stood up.

"I'm not afraid, I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jacksy!" Dori yanked on his jacket and pulled him back into his chair.

"Sit down!"

"The task will be difficult enough with an army behind us. We number just thirteen. Not thirteen of the best nor brightest." Balin added almost as an afterthought. Mirima thought about correcting him on his numbers but decided to remain silent as the others were already reacting to Balin's slight insult however Fili's voice cut them all silent.

"We may be few in number but we're fighters, all of us, down to the last dwarf!"

"And do you forget we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Kili added with a wide smile.

"Oh well now I wouldn't say-"

"Well how many then?" Dori interrupted him sharply as he leaned closer.

"I, uh, what?"

"How many dragons have you killed?" Gandalf began to cough with embarrassment on his pipe smoke. When he failed to answer the dwarves all leaped up and began to shout and argue. With a roar Thorin got to his feet, instantly commanding silence. "Atkât!" (Silence) He remained standing as he addressed his fellow kinsmen. "If we have read these signs do you not think others would have read them also? Rumours have begun to spread." His voice intensified and the gravity was pushed into his words. "The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look East to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erbor?"

In an answering cry the dwarves all leaped to their feet and cheered as Thorin clenched his fist and shouted. "Du Beckâr! Du Beckâr!" (To arms! To arms!)

"You forget the front door is sealed. There is no way into the mountain." The voice of reason came from Balin and it instantly lowered the spirits in the room.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf answered and from within his robes he produced a key, holding it up for everyone to see as everyone gazed in wonder.

"How came you by this?" Thorin's voice was quiet and soft as he spoke.

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain. For safe keeping." Gandalf held out the ornate key to Thorin who took it carefully into his hands as if it were made from the most delicate glass. "It is yours now."

"If there is a key then there must be a door."

"You think?" Mirima whispered quietly under her breath. Using his pipe to point to the map Gandalf continued.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls." Excitement was written on Kili's face as he clasped his brother's shoulder.

"There's another way in."

"If we can find it. Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done." The wizard spoke confidently.

"That's why we need a burglar!" Oin directed towards Bilbo who was still pouring over the map.

"Hm, a good one too. An expert I'd imagine." He said, pulling on the straps that helped to hold up his trousers. Gloin leaned towards him intently.

"And are you?" The hobbit looked up then gave a questioning look.

"Am I what?" Gloin pounded a fist on the table with glee.

"He said he's an expert!" Realisation dawned on Bilbo's face and he hastened to correct them, stumbling over his words.

"Me? No, no, no I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Balin muttered and Bilbo nodded his head in ardent agreement.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin agreed with a pointed look to Mirima who bristled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She growled at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously as they flashed with anger. Soon everyone was arguing, Mirima leaping up and pushing forwards to face Dwalin head on. Gandalf, swiftly growing angry, rose to his full height and darkness was cast across the room, spreading over the walls as his voice echoed with power.

"Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is." Once everything was calm and quiet Gandalf returned to his seat and the light reappeared to the room. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose and while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." He turned to Thorin who met his eyes steadily.

"You asked me to find the fifteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself. You must trust me on this." A quiet confliction appeared within Thorin before he sighed, relenting.

"Very well. We'll do it your way." Balin began to argue but Thorin lifted his hand to silence him gently. "Give him the contract."

"Alright, we're off!" Bofur grinned and rubbed his hands together. Although Bilbo tried to object to being drawn into the quest both Thorin and Gandalf ignore him as Balin handed Bilbo a long contract, one identical to the one he had been given to Mirima.

"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements and so forth." Balin explained as he unrolled the parchment and handed it to Bilbo who paled even further.

"Funeral arrangements?" He took a few steps back to read it in a brighter light, murmuring under his breath as he went. "'Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any.' Hmm. Seems fair." He mused with a lift of his eyebrows before he continued on. "'The present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations...evisceration…incineration?" He turned to look at the dwarves who all smirked to themselves. "I feel a bit faint." The hobbit whispered softly under his breath.

"Think furnace with wings." Bofur explained unhelpfully as he lifted his pipe from his mouth.

"Air, I need air."

"Flash of light, searing pain, then Poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash." Bilbo drew in deep, long breaths as he tried to get control over himself whilst everyone simply stared at him, all gradually leaning closer as one.

"You alright laddie?" Balin asked him gently. Bilbo stood up for a moment, seemingly fine then shook his head.

"No." With that he fainted heavily on the floor.

"Very helpful, Bofur." Gandalf muttered before rising to help the hobbit.

Mirima poured herself some more ale as Gandalf spoke to Bilbo, sighing softly as she sat down before the fire next to Fili. "My uncle seems to like you. He's hard to impress and does not trust easily." He said to her in a quiet voice.

"Let's just say I let my sword speak louder than words." Mirima told him with a small smile before taking a swig of her ale. "On more than one occasion." Fili chuckled quietly as he leaned back in his chair.

"I've waited so long for this quest and now we're only hours away from finally beginning."

"Don't let your head run away with the escaped coin." Mirima told him sternly but with a soft look in her eye. "It's not so much about the destination, it's about the journey." Fili looked at her questioningly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that when going on a long journey, very rarely do you come back the same as you once was." Her mind flickered back to all the days she had spent on the road, learning and growing in more ways than one. "It's an important part of life, your journey, where you decide what sort of dwarf you want to become. Sometimes you make mistakes and go down the wrong path but I think that there is always a way of going back, since sometimes going backwards is the only way to go forwards."

"You're not like uncle said you were. He said you were irritating to the bone and a trouble maker to the heart." Mirima grinned from ear to ear, lifting her mug at Fili who answered accordingly.

"You wait until I get out onto the road. Then you'll see." She tapped her mug against Fili's then drained it. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Bilbo walk away from Gandalf and heard Balin sigh dejectedly.

"It appears we have lost our burglar. Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers; hardly the stuff of legend."

"There are a few warriors amongst us." Thorin's soft voice answered pointedly.

"Old warriors." He corrected with a wise look in his eye but Thorin would not be deterred.

"I will take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty. Honour. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that." Balin gripped Thorin's arm and held on tightly.

"You don't have to do this. You have a choice. You've done honourably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor." In answer Thorin held up the key that Gandalf had given him, the light of determination still burning in his eyes.

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."

With a soft sigh Balin nodded. "Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done."

Soon Thorin was standing by the hearth with his pipe, the others either smoking their own or drinking from their mugs. It was very quiet, the atmosphere unexplainable as Mirima felt her chest tighten with each passing moment, her stomach burning with a fire of determination and longing. Longing for home. They all begin to hum. The sound was wonderful and Mirima kept quiet, closing her eyes to absorb all of her senses in the sound.

When Thorin began to sing she was startled, not knowing how well Thorin could sing. Mirima had no recollection of home, no memory of Erebor or Dale but as she listened to these dwarves sing of their precious gold and the burning pines lit by dragon fire, she felt a yearning in her heart she had never felt before.

She leaned forwards on her knee, one hand holding her pipe as she stared at the floor into the distance, trying to imagine what it would look like. Even if they did reclaim Erebor what would that mean for Mirima? She would not belong there truly, she had no memory of any home that she loved except for the one that Fainauriel's arms had made for her, wrapping her in the warm embrace as her glowing body chased away the darkness, bringing her dreamless and peaceful sleep.

Before she knew it the song was finished and Mirima was left empty and wishing she could hear more. Without a word she pushed off from her chair and walked out of the room, wanting to get away from the feeling that burdened her. Stooping low and opening a cupboard Mirima drew out a plate of food, one with cheese, sausages, bread, eggs and some cherry tomatoes then took it to see Mr Baggins.

"Here." She showed him the plate then set it on his bed before him. "I saved you some supper." Bilbo looked in shock at the food, shocked to see any left after the massive feast the dwarves had made. "Snatched it before they could scoff the lot. Greedy buggers." She smiled weakly then turned around to leave.

"About this…quest." Bilbo called after her, making her turn around. "Why are you going?" Mirima shrugged, sticking her thumbs into her belt.

"Because I made a promise." She answered. "To Thorin."

"What promise?"

"That I would help him." Bilbo looked slightly confused so Mirima turned back to face him. "You see, my home was in Dale. I was only a wee babe when that dragon killed my parents and destroyed the only place I would ever be able to call home. I was rescued, taken far away and left alone. When I heard that Thorin Oakenshield was going to reclaim the Lonely Mountain I knew that he would need my help."

"Help? What do you mean?" Mirima sighed with slight impatience.

"He needs loyalty at his side, people he can trust, if there's one thing I know it's how to survive out in the wild and I've helped others survive it too. The road is the only home I have but if someone can offer me something better then I'm damn well going to take it." She pointed out the window to the moon where Bilbo turned to look, following her direction. "Out there is the real life, the wild changes people either for good or worse. But sometimes you grow tired, sometimes your feet just won't carry you another step. That's when you need a home. Something to keep you going. Something to push and fight for. So I'll fight for Thorin's home and maybe one day I can call it my own too."

With that being said she turned and left the hobbit in a bewildered state. She drew out her pipe and chewed on the end, frowning deeply as she returned to her seat by the fire, leaning back with a stretch. The warmth of the fire and the melodic dancing of the flames lulled her to the edge of sleep, her head slipping sideways as her eyes slowly began to close. Her mind pulled over the borders, going back and forth. At one point she registered someone placing a blanket over her which she pulled close around her, finally finding that one missing comfort which allowed her to fall over the edge into sleep.