A/N: I'm struggling with the fact that I think I'm writing to many endless explanations instead of writing more dialogue between the characters. What do you guys think? Do you like my writing style the way it is? Or would you rather have more spoken interaction between all the characters? Let me know if you have an opinion on this, pretty please. Because I'm not sure about my style anymore.
An enormous shoutout to all my reviewers from last time: 'total-animal-lover', 'LarienSurion', 'Phantomessangel', 'Siamsa', 'Vaughn Tyler', 'Immer wenn es dunkel wird', 'Dinogeek', '3 LMS 3' and all the 'guests'. Thank you so much, all of you!


. . .

~ Part I ~

{[~ Audrey's P.O.V. ~]}

. . .


The Breakfast Club


Daybreak came sooner than I had expected.

Waves of sunlight bathed the comfortable chamber in a gorgeous glow of gold and I lazily stretched my arms above my head as the last remnants of sleep slowly lost their battle against my waking mind.
It had, however, not been the beams of light which had awoken me; instead, it had been the cacophony of sounds that resounded outside, the incessant twittering of birds and the first signs of a village awakening. I hummed lightly in my throat as a yawn escaped me, mindlessly combing through my mop of excessively curled hair and I carefully threw the bundle of sheets on my side of the king-sized bed off of my legs.

Silently -as I did not want to wake my sister who was still fast asleep on the other side of the bed- I crept over to the beautifully carved mahogany commode that stood against the wall in between the only two circular windows of the room. The warm radiance streaming through the curtains gave me more than enough light to study my reflection in the oval mirror, perched atop the wooden piece of furniture, and I stared in wonder at my altered reflection.
I trailed my fingers from my rosy cheeks over my rounded jaw line towards the pointy ends of my ears before they disappeared into the wild chocolate-coloured ringlets that currently constituted my hair, and I couldn't help the wide smile from forming on my lips as a warm, bubbly feeling of elation and glee settled itself around my heart upon gazing at my new appearance.

Oh, how thrilled I had been when I had been safely guided to this cosy Hobbit Hole, my own sister there to greet me, and sensing the primary feeling of shock wash away rapidly as the vastness and fantastical awareness of this place found my enraptured eyes.
I knew, from the instant I stepped across Bilbo Baggins' threshold, I had somehow been translocated to a world of fiction. A prodigious world that was enclosed in several works of literature. Wonderful literature, printed carefully in leather-bound books, written by a man named J.R.R. Tolkien. And I had read all of them.

I was in Bag End, The Shire, Middle Earth.

And I could still scarcely believe it.

I never thought about the fact that this could not be possible, that the only explanation for me and Lillian's appearance in this world could only be explained as a very life-like dream or an unconscious mirage; a thought -I knew- had kept my sister sane from the moment she had found herself lying on one of the many glowing green hills that adorned this peaceful part of the world. Oh, how surprised she will be when she wakes up to see the events of yesterday were all very real indeed!

The excitement I felt for what was still to come was plainly visible on my face; I was practically glowing with delight! And yet, there was something that bothered me. Something that had me confused ever since I entered this Hobbit Hole.
Just like my sister, a vast amount of my memories had been erased and I had to admit, I had felt more than a little concerned about that fact. But from the moment I had laid eyes upon the young Dwarf brothers who had been eager to assist me and tell me there names ("Fíli and Kíli. At your service!"), it had felt like someone had lit a candle inside the dark and dusty chamber that was my head. I knew those names! I had seen them somewhere before; I had read about them! And when -later in the evening- Bilbo decided he would not accompany the Dwarves, yet another candle had sparked to life, and the clenching sensation I had felt in my stomach told me that this was not how things were supposed to happen. I somehow knew that Bilbo Baggins was to be the Dwarves' burglar; though trying to convince Lillian of my gut-feeling had been arduous as I could not explain to her why I felt this way. How could I, when I barely understood it myself?!

Than we overheard Thorin and Balin conversing about the upcoming struggle they were about to face, and later on we bumped into Fili and Kili who started listing up several of the foul creatures that were known to roam these lands; and it was as if the previous fog that had filled my brain got lifted just enough for me to actually know about the Dwarves' grief-stricken past and for me to know how each and every one of these horrendous beasts looked like.
The dim lights of recognition had started to kindle and it was enough for me to commence in connecting the dots; connecting each little flame of remembrance with the next one, and the next one, until the memory had come back to me in a sudden flash of blinding light as I overheard the solemn voices of the Dwarves echo the song of their people through the cracks of our room.

And just before I felt exhaustion overtake me and I succumbed into a fitful slumber, I remembered with absolute clarity which story of Middle Earth we had found ourselves in: The Hobbit.

As I was now looking my Hobbit-fied self over, I distinctly remembered reading that book, and I remembered every little occurrence that had passed so far. Yet when I willed myself to remember more, there was only darkness, and -for the life of me- I could not remember how the story continued on any further.
The pieces of the puzzle had started to set, yet it would take more lit candles for me to locate the other remaining pieces in the darkness-filled hollow of my mind. The confused frown on my face melted away as I told myself to be patient; it would all come back to me eventually. There was no need to worry fruitlessly about things that were sure to come -because I knew they would come ultimately- when there were so many wonderful things waiting to be seen and experienced!

I was lifted out of my reverie as I distinguished the silent knocks on the door of our room and I walked over to answer it; a spring in my step as I could not contain the excitement I felt for this marvellous world any longer.

I opened the door just wide enough for me to stick my head through, revealing a copper-haired Dwarf who was wearing a purple knitted cardigan and grey finger-less mittens. He still had a young, ruddy face adorned with a splash of freckles, and I thought I remembered him being one of the more polite Dwarves in the company.

I smiled widely. "Hi!" I piped up before I could stop myself.

"Erm... H- hello." He answered shyly and his stutter -matched with his flushing cheeks- was so utterly adorable that it made me giggle silently. "I- I- I was sent to wake both you and your sister." He explained his presence and looked at his boots while speaking, probably to stop himself from stammering. "We're to head out in about an hour. If you'd like, my brother Dori is making breakfast. But you'd better hurry if you still want some. I'm not sure there will be anything left when Mister Bombur and the Masters Fíli and Kíli wake up."

"Oh, thank you for thinking about us, that is really nice of you." I said pleasantly. "Please, will you tell me your name?"

"O-oh, it's Ori, miss." His big, brown and innocent-looking eyes met mine briefly before he shifted them back towards the tips of his heavy leather boots and bowed his copper head in greeting, his cheeks now resembling scarlet. "At your service."

"Thank you, Ori." I replied and copied his former gesture by matching his bow with one of my own. "Audrey Darrow, at yours."

Ori lifted the corners of his mouth timidly at my display of a cordial greeting and I gave him a broad, toothy smile in return. I was about to complement our pleasant introductions with an equally enjoyable conversation when we were interrupted by the grumbling mumbles coming from somewhere beneath the blankets of the king-sized bed.
Lillian's half-waking mind must have been disturbed at the sound of our voices, even though we had hardly said anything remotely clamorous.

I looked from the red mop of hair that was my sister back to Ori, an apologetic smile visible on my face. "Why don't you go and enjoy some breakfast?" I proposed. "I'll wake up my sister and we'll be there shortly."

Ori agreed with my suggestion. "Okay. S-see y-you at breakfast then." He nodded and quickly shuffled out of view, his ears visibly tinted a deep scarlet.

I closed the door and made my way back towards the bed where my sister was still curled up -very similar to a cat- on her side of the mattress. I lifted myself back on my side of the bed and crawled forward until I was sitting on my knees beside Lillian, her back turned to me, and I gently shook her shoulder.

"Lil?" I tried silently.

No reaction.

"Lil?" I tried again and shook her shoulder a bit more forcefully. "Lillian?"

Still, there was no reaction. She did not even try to swat my hand away, as if she barely felt it squeezing into the skin of her upper arms. I huffed at her lack of acknowledgement and bend over to raise my voice right next to her ear. "Lil!"

But my sister barely stirred. "Five more minutes." I could hear her muffled grunt from somewhere under the blankets.

I rolled my eyes good-humouredly at her reaction and somewhere in the back of my mind a memory flickered to life and I remembered that my sister had never been much of a morning person. She always managed to smack the alarm clock so hard, the gears and wires sprung out of the outer confinement. And if that did not stop the noise yet, Lillian would throw it against the wall which, though mostly effective, sometimes still did not stop the -now distorted- beeping. In the end Lillian had solved that problem by drowning the clock in the glass of water she always kept on her nightstand.

Our mother was more than fed up with her oldest daughter's behaviour and the fact that she needed to buy a new alarm clock every single time Lillian had wrecked it. Therefore she had decided to put the alarm on my nightstand instead, making me in charge of waking up my sister since I was around the age of four. Which meant that I knew a thing or two when it came to this exact situation. The most effective course of action was tickling, and a playful smirk covered my features as I moved from words (or more precisely thoughts) to action.

The reaction was immediate.

"Huh?! Wha- What?! What are you doing?!" Lillian exclaimed hoarsely, wriggling around to avoid my nimble fingers; but her attempts at a breakout were to no avail as she merely managed to tangle her limbs in and around the blankets, cocooning herself into a state of immobility.

"Ugh!" She managed to free her arms and tried to slap my hands away, but I quickly sat myself on top of her, pinning her down beneath me and continuing my relentless tickle-attack. All the while laughing so widely that my cheeks started to ache from the stretch.

I had forgotten, though, that Lillian was a lot more stronger and lithe than myself. Even when wrapped in a recalcitrant piece of fabric. "Okay, I'm up!" She exclaimed and managed to kick me off of her, making me roll onto my back and by so, giving her the perfect opportunity to reverse our rolls. "I'm up!" She snarled in my face as she was now sitting on top of me, her hands wrapped around my wrists, holding them at either side of my head.

I tried to stifle my giggles as Lillian's very annoyed expression did not invite any form of pleasantry at the moment. But her unintelligent yapping from before, her enormous mass of red bed-hair and her disgruntled appearance made me fail miserably.

Lillian's miffed expression made way for one of perplexity. "What the-?" She started silently, a frown materializing on her face. "What are you doing in my bed?" She asked. "Hang on... This isn't my bed..." She corrected herself as she made a quick scan around the room, before she locked her eyes with me again, confusion now very evidently visible in her eyes. "Where the bloody fuck are we?" She demanded in a low growl.

I knew this was going to happen. I sighed sadly as I scanned my sister's obvious expression of disbelief, knowing that her rational mind had no desire to succumb to the previous night's events and did a marvellous job in keeping her in denial of this fantastical world. "Erm..." I hesitated and tried to scrunch up my face in a way that would not show how doleful I felt at Lillian's lack of acceptance. "We're at Mr. Bilbo's home. You know, the nice Hobbit who gave us clothes and bag packs and bedrolls and bread buns and-"

"W- What?!" Lillian's exclamation cut me off. "You mean to say that that was all real?!"

She swung herself of the bed and stomped towards the oval mirror on top of the commode I had been admiring my Hobbit-self in just moments before and her eyes were as wide as saucers when she met her reflection, her brow furrowed in a rather comical expression of fierce indignation.

I tried to pass on as much of my positively enthusiastic acceptance of our situation and nodded excitedly. "Uhu!"

Lillian groaned and gave her reflection a look filled with the promise of coming thunder and obscurity. "Oh, that's just bloody brilliant..."

As much as I wanted to, I did not attempt any further conversation. In normal circumstances it was always a risky business trying to make Lillian participate in an oral dialogue when she had just left the warm covers of her bed. Most of the words that would escape the border of her lips would either be coated in an annoyingly thick layer of sarcasm or would contain a form of language that was not reserved for anyone below the age-rate of eighteen or for anyone who was still in the possession of clean virgin ears. And seeing as this was anything but a normal circumstance, I did not think this was a very good time to attempt a conversation filled with upbeat suggestions that could make her feel less anxious, sceptical and downright unwilling in accepting this new world.

We simply dressed ourselves in silence, occasionally asking for the other's aid when it came to tightening bodices and tying up laces, but for the most part neither of us uttered a word.
I noticed Lillian was having some sort of mental debate with herself as she seemed to struggle between the choice of wearing either trousers or a skirt; eventually she decided on the latter, even though I saw she was not entirely convinced of her own decision. For my part, I thought she looked absolutely wonderful. Her dress reached mid-calf and was a dark shade of violet, adorned with intricate and subtle flower petals in the form of orchids which were sewn onto the fabric with silver and indigo thread. Her bodice had been dipped in the same aubergine-colour and had been stiffened with bents to support her bust and show off her narrow waistline. It had a round collar that revealed the tiniest hint of a cleavage and a row of delicate brass buttons in the middle to keep it all together. The puffed up sleeves suited the dress perfectly, but would not protect her bare arms from chilling winds and pouring rain; so she had been so wise to pull on a warm woollen camisole with a long pair of sleeves right underneath her other layers.

My own outfit looked very similar. The only differences were that my bodice and skirt had been dyed aquamarine and had a fragile design of cream-coloured daisies embroidered into the cotton-like fabric. Instead of buttons, my bodice was held together by one single continuous lace, woven into a criss-cross fashion and ending in a bow around the centre of my breastbone. Thanks to my sister's suggestion I had also tugged on a warm woollen camisole with long sleeves underneath my outer garments and felt warm and comfortable in my new attire.

We checked the two piles consisting of supplies, spare clothing and other equipment that we had scrambled together late last night, to see if we had acquired all the necessary paraphernalia we assumed we needed on this sort of excursion. And when Lillian -finely- decided everything appeared to be accounted for, we made our way towards Bilbo's kitchen where the smell of eggs, sausages and bacon filled our nostrils and watered our mouths.

We deposited our leather knapsacks and our forest-green woollen cloaks -which we had discovered in the back of the mahogany wardrobe in the spare bedroom and were deemed extremely useful whenever we would have to be kept warm or would have to be shielded from rain- next to the round front door so they were close at hand when the time came to head out.

"Good mornin'!" A Dwarf with a funny-looking fur-trimmed hat exclaimed cheerfully when we entered the kitchen.

I repeated the greeting with joyful enthusiasm and remembered from last night that this grinning Dwarf was named Bofur, as he had been the one who had managed to reduce poor Bilbo into an unconscious heap on the floor.
The kitchen itself was already packed with the majority of the company, all of them waiting patiently on their hearty breakfast. I waved at Ori who was seated in between another copper-haired Dwarf with some sort of star-hairdo and an older, wise-looking Dwarf with a long white beard, and received a shy wave back from the blushing young lad. I made a quick scan of the room and noticed that the leader of our party was not present, along with the burly, rather scary-looking dark-haired Dwarf and both Fíli and Kíli were yet to arrive as well. I felt a slight tinge of disappointment when I noticed the brothers' absence, but shook it away quickly as I half-heartedly reprimanded myself that I should not feel so attached to those two particular Dwarves in such a short period of time. To busy myself, I went towards the two Dwarves who were bustling about around the stove -an extremely rotund ginger Dwarf and an older, grey Dwarf with very elaborate little braids in his complicated hair- and offered them my help by putting all the bowls, pots and pans on the table.

"There is no such thing as a good morning." I heard Lillian grit out and I turned momentarily -a ceramic plate in my hands as the large, ginger Dwarf filled it with an immense amount of steaming hot sausages- to see her scowling in Bofur's general direction.

"Ooooh, dear." He practically cooed in answer after he took a long drag from his pipe and grinned down at her playfully. "Not much of a mornin' person, are we lass?"

Lillian lifted her eyes to the ceiling in annoyance. "Gee, I wonder what gave me away?" She drawled sarcastically.

Bofur did not seem affected by the dark frown that was sent his way and simply gestured teasingly towards an imaginary spot above my sister's head with the nozzle of his pipe. "Well, the thundercloud hangin' above y'r brow is a clear indicator."

Lillian's scowl deepened dangerously low. "That was a rhetorical question."

"Aye, I knew tha'." Bofur replied merrily, showing off the many laugh-wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.

I saw the snide remark forming in my sister's head before she had even so much as opened her mouth, and made haste to intervene, putting the steaming plate of sausages in the middle of the long wooden table with a loud -thud-.

"Right! Who wants some breakfast?"

My interjection conveniently cut off Lillian's retort as the Dwarves around the table cheered and clapped their hands together in elation, wasting no more time in attacking the plate of sausages with hungry determination. Lillian shot me a look of annoyance as she knew I had just stopped her from orally shoving the grinning Dwarf about six feet beneath the ground, but I was simply relieved I had been able to stop her. Poor Bofur did not deserve her wrath.
I helped setting the rest of the table before I took a seat in the middle at the wide wooden piece of furniture, right next to Lillian who had subtly slipped into one of the unoccupied chairs, her posture rigid and her face scrunched up in a severe judging stare as she watched the Dwarves' absolute lack of table manners.

I nudged her playfully in the side and gave her a quick smile when she turned to face me. "This is nice, isn't it?"

Lillian gave me an unbelieving, incredulous look that did not need any further oral comment for me to clearly see she was of another opinion. Nevertheless, she answered my question with a fiery passion to sound as blunt as possible, "Either you're joking or you're having a mental breakdown. If it's the former, than I seriously need to educate you in the proper use of humour. If it's the latter, however, I'm afraid I'll be forced to put you in an insane asylum where you will last your days staring at the monotonous white ceilings of recreation rooms with ping pong-tables and hand puppets as your only company."

Her tone had been so dry, I had already anticipated the sarcastic drawl that would come out of her mouth, so I had simply plastered a silly smile on my face and had tuned her out after the mere second syllable. My mind a blissful blank. I ignored the negative vibes radiating from my sister and shrugged heartily when she had finished her rant, while Lillian rolled her eyes at my carefree attitude in response.

As my sister redirected her gaze at the food in front of her, I was happy to see that I sat right across from Ori and not too far from the head of the table where Bofur was seated. Just like I had thought by their friendly demeanor, they were the ones who were the most talkative at the table and I delightedly started a small conversation between the three of us. Bofur was even so nice to point out all the different Dwarves at the table and proceeded to introduce them to me: there were Nori, Dori, Bifur and Bombur; Oín, Gloín and Balin, and -of course- Ori and himself, Bofur.

"Ah!" Bofur exclaimed suddenly as he looked at the door separating the kitchen from the drawing room. "An' the masters Fíli an' Kíli." He said as the two brothers entered the room, both fully clothed, a bright glint in their eyes as they could barely contain the eagerness they felt for this official first day of the adventure. My face visibly lit up as I saw them; something that did not go unnoticed by our Dwarf with the funny hat, and he leaned in a bit closer to me, waving me over with his hand so he could whisper in my ear. "But I bet ya already knew tha', didn't ya lass?"

His teasing grin grew even wider as he saw his words had the desired effect. The underlying ambiguous accusation of his statement caused my ears to tingle in abashment and I could feel the heat spreading to my cheeks, my face glowing a light shade of red and my smile turning bashful.

"Good morning, laddies." Balin greeted the two young Dwarves cordially.

"Mornin'." Fíli answered easily as he caught my eye and gave me a playful wink, making my face heat up even more as the gesture made Bofur's attention spin back to me, the laugh wrinkles around his eyes now profoundly visible due to the amusement my reaction gave him.

But the colour in my face faded out somewhat when Kíli did not try to catch my eye and give me a similar greeting. He did not even so much as glance my way; falling gracelessly into the seat next to my sister with an exclamation of, "Oh! Bacon!", and grabbing everything within his reach to subsequently cram down his mouth. A slight sting of disappointment curled itself into my stomach, my face falling into a downcast expression for a mere second, when I was distracted by Fíli who came to sit on the chair beside me.
He filled his own plate with abundance and dug in; his love for food just as evidently plain to see, but his mannerisms were a lot more dignified than his brother's as he, at least, took the time to use a fork.

"You look good in that dress." His voice suddenly sounded very close to my ear and I realised that the blonde Dwarf had leaned sideways so I was the only one who could overhear his statement.

I startled at his proximity. "Th- Thank you!" I exclaimed with a stutter, my face probably resembling a cherry by now.

He chuckled at my timid demeanour and decided to change the subject, even though the twinkle in his eyes clearly stated that my reaction amused him greatly. "Did you sleep well?" He asked politely as he straightened himself in his seat.

"Oh," I breathed uncertainly as I hadn't anticipated his civil inquiry. "Yes... Very well, thank you."

"Good." He nodded. "I was afraid my brother and I had scared you yesterday evening." He tilted his head so he was looking at me, our eyes meeting in a blur of blue, and elaborated when I gave him a questioning glance. "You looked rather pale when we said our goodbyes."

"Oh, n- no. Y- you didn't scare me." I said shyly as I remembered our encounter last night and the little show he and his brother had enacted by listing up every foul creature that roamed these lands with the additional scary voices and petrified faces. "Honest!" I proclaimed when Fíli gave me a sceptical look.

The corner of Fíli's mouth twitched when he eyed my determined facade, knowing full well that I had been uncomfortable -to say the least- by their representations, but he refrained from mocking me. A very gentlemanly thing to do, I fleetingly thought, and I smiled a little wider.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." He said, mirroring my smile in encouragement. "And even though I do not doubt your courage," he continued, "I hope you know our offer of protection still stands."

"Ah, yes." I sighed out as I saw which way this conversation was leading us, and even though Lillian hadn't said anything further about the matter, I knew she was reluctant in accepting their generous proposition. "That was very nice of you to offer and if it were only up to me, I would have gladly accepted." I told him sincerely.

"But your sister doesn't see it that way?" He guessed.

"Oh, well, I don't know." I faltered, not wanting to give him some sort of false hope. I knew Lillian thought they had an ulterior motive for presenting their protection, even though I disagreed with her on that matter. I just could not fathom any other reason Fíli and Kíli could possible have to burden themselves with two defenceless Hobbits. Nothing specifically had been said about it though. "I- I mean, we haven't really talked about it yet. So... B- But maybe I could talk to her after breakfa-"

My sentence was cut short when Lillian practically sprang onto her feet, her entire posture wind up like a spring and her angered shout cascading along the room. "Will you stop that! You're stuffing your gob in a manner that should solely be reserved for the poor and starving!" She was gesturing wildly at Kíli who was, apparently, still eating. Or more correctly; shovelling everything within his reach down his throat. "You're not even chewing anything, for God's sake!"

Kíli looked up from his plate and stared at my sister with wide innocent eyes, eyebrows raised so high that they almost reached his hairline and wearing an expression very much reminiscent to that of a kicked puppy. "Wha?" He tried to say with his mouth still full of eggs and bacon.

Lillian's former furious expression melted away when she saw the semi-grounded and mashed leftovers of breakfast swimming inside of Kíli's open mouth and the flush of red that had covered her cheeks before turned slowly into a completely different colour until she looked positively green. "That's... disgusting." She still managed to say in between the silent gagging noises that escaped the barrier of her lips.

That last observation made me arch my brow in disquiet. She looked seconds away from throwing up. "Lil..." I tried to shift her attention to me and raised my hand to lay it on her arm in a gentle gesture. "You don't look too good..."

But even though she might have looked -and felt- utterly sick, the only thing my comment managed to do was remind her of the fact that she had been in a phenomenal foul mood before her face started to resemble the colour of lettuce. "Gosh, isn't that funny?" She drawled as she turned her narrowed eyes on me, a dry smile on her lips. "Because, you see, I don't feel too good either." She divulged loftily before rolling her eyes in clear vexation.

I removed my hand with a jolt, as if her stinging words had just electrocuted my limb and I couldn't help myself from looking completely dejected. Lillian did not seem to care though, as she took one last scathing look at both me and Kíli before she pushed her chair back and addressed the remainder of the kitchen occupants. "Excuse me." She said as she squared her shoulders and retreated towards the adjacent corridor.

I followed her figure out of the corner of my eye as a pleasant rumble of voices lifted back into the air after the silence Lillian's sudden outburst had created, and I noticed she was walking towards the round front door. I assumed that she was simply in need of a resilient breath of fresh air; but just before she reached the brass doorknob, I saw how she scrunched up her face in such a way that told me she was in some sort of physical pain. Albeit it would have been barely noticeable to a stranger, I knew my sister well enough to realise she had excused herself from the table just in time to cover up her obvious jolts of pain, her hands lifting to massage at her brow and her jaw set.
Even though her former outburst still hung in the air and I had to admit she had gone too far with the grumpy-out-of-bed-routine, not even mentioning the still stinging sarcastic comment she had thrown in my direction, I hadn't forgotten about what my sister and I had talked about yesterday. I knew I could be dense at times and I knew I allowed my mind to wander when important (dull) things were being said, but that didn't mean I did not listen. Especially whenever it came to the people I loved, I was an attentive auditor, even if it looked like I was lost in my own little world. As such, I comprehended my sister's symptoms; Lillian had just relived another memory. A splitting headache as a result.
My body moved on its own, aching to help my older sibling, although I knew she would tell me to go away and leave her alone. I believed that it's sometimes better to talk with someone about serious and painful matters -like these memories and attached headaches clearly were- and I was prepared to face Lillian's hostile reaction. In the end she would open up to me; I believed that with all my heart.

I hurriedly excused myself to the remaining Dwarves at the kitchen table, pulled back my chair and set off to follow the same route as my sister, when I was stopped by a large hand enveloping itself around my wrist.

"Your sister doesn't like me very much, does she?" Kíli asked me, his expression sullen.

I barely registered his voice, distracted as I was by the palm of his hand that was loosely wrapped around my wrist, his heavily sun-kissed skin tone a perfect contrast to my own pale skin. I felt his warmth spreading over my entire body, igniting a spark inside of me and making my stomach twist and churn in a peculiar way, a sensation I had never felt before. The heat eventually reached my cheeks and I envisioned myself blushing a fine tint of scarlet.
Yet, a sense of stubbornness took me in its grasp as I did not feel particularly talkative towards the dark-haired Dwarf. He had purposely ignored me when I had tried to greet him and his brother -in unison with the rest of the company- and he had not even so much as glanced in my general direction during the time we had ate our breakfast. I had apparently not been important enough to grace with a simple nod of the head or an easy sideways grin.
But now he suddenly demanded my attention just so I could tell him if my sister liked him or not? Why would he care about that? Why the sudden interest in the person who had just yelled his head off for lacking in table manners?

"Oh, I wouldn't worry." I said without thinking twice about the words coming out of my mouth whilst I ignored the way his dark eyes were trying to lock onto my own blue orbs. "My sister doesn't like anyone at first. You just have to give her some time." I wiggled my wrist free from his grasp and gave him a frugal smile. "Excuse me."

I nodded once more at the other Dwarves around the table before I turned on my heel, my curls bouncing from side to side as I did so, and proceeded towards the door where Lillian had disappeared through only moments before. My features set into a determined expression as I wanted nothing more than to help my sister face her demons. Ignoring the painful sting of jealousy that rooted itself abruptly in the depths of my stomach.


. . .

~ Will be continued ~

. . .


A/N: Thank you for reading! And -as always- if you like my story please leave me a review with your thoughts. Also take a look at my poll on my Main Page when you have the time! ;)