I'm supposed to be studying for my exams at the moment. Oops. Here's a super long chapter for you.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit, obviously.


Chapter 9: Play Pretend

I think most people are more susceptible to prejudice than to reason.

Roger Ebert

The company made their way down the tunnel, feet dragging from exhaustion. The adrenaline had departed Gemma's system, leaving behind only sluggish movements and the desire to rest for a little while without anything else going wrong. It seemed as if everything had been moving at a break-neck speed since she arrived in Middle Earth; funny, because before that, everything had been going so slowly. But now she just needed it all to slow down.

And that's when they saw it; a village tucked into the rock, easily the most beautiful place she'd ever imagined. Gemma was fairly certain her mouth hung open in a completely ridiculous way (she was probably even worse than Bilbo, who looked like a kid in a candy store) but it was like her prayer had been answered, in an amazing, heaven-on-earth kind of way, complete with sparkling waterfalls and gardens that you could fall asleep in. Total peace. And all Gemma could think was, Thank God; somewhere I can take a bath. Seriously, she needed one, pronto.

"The valley of Imladris. In the Common Tongue it's known by another name," Gandalf said.

"Rivendell," Bilbo gasped.

"This was your plan all along," Thorin growled at Gandalf, "to seek refuge with our enemy."

Gemma frowned. Enemy? She hoped the people here weren't enemies. She really wanted that bath. And a bed… and food that isn't oatmeal or stew… and some alone time. Oh please let these "elves" be friendly.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself," Gandalf shot back at Thorin. Gemma and Bilbo raised their eyebrows at each other. When Thorin was mad, that meant bad news; when Gandalf was mad, that was even worse.

"You think the elves will give us their blessing? They'll try to stop us," Thorin said.

"Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered," Gandalf replied, before looking past Thorin to Gemma, "and a friend that needs help getting home." Thorin turned to look at Gemma as well, sending her an icy glare, as if all of this was suddenly her fault, which was completely unfair. Gandalf walked by the group, saying "If we are to be successful, this must be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me." Gemma smirked at that, but Gandalf caught it and said, "That goes for you as well, Ms. LaRoche." She saw that Thorin nearly smirked back at her, but caught himself and sent her another glare.

The Company made their way into the valley, crossing a bridge into a round open courtyard. They were met by what was easily the prettiest person Gemma had ever laid eyes on. The man, no, elf, had long hair, high cheekbones, and a tall and willowy figure, standing at least as tall as she. The pointed ears and arching eyebrows completed the surreal-looking being. As Gandalf conversed with this elf, whom he clearly knew, Gemma inched her way to Thorin's side. "Hey," she whispered in his ear. He ignored her. "Look, I don't know why you don't want to be here, but I'm sorry if it's my fault we're here. I never meant to interrupt your quest. I mean, it's not really my fault, and I think it's kind of unfair that you're blaming me, but…" Gemma trailed off as Thorin studiously ignored her. "Fine," she threw her hands in the air and walked away. If he wanted to be childish, that was his problem. She had really just wanted him to tell her why he didn't want to be here. What was so bad about elves?

A hunting horn sounded and the dwarfs crowded together, weapons drawn. Gemma found herself stuck in the middle of the pack, being covered from the approaching elves on horseback by the company's leader. Her hand went to her gun, but she caught Gandalf's glaze and he gave her a look that said everything was alright. The dwarfs were just overreacting; they must really dislike elves. Still, she didn't like the way the elves circled the company, like hawks circling mice. If it came to it, she would side with the dwarves, always.

Gandalf was greeted by a dark-haired elf with truly impressive eyebrows. Then Thorin stepped forward.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain," the elf called Lord Elrond said.

"I do not think we've met," Thorin replied.

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew him when he ruled."

"Indeed? He made no mention of you." Gemma winced at the venom in Thorin's voice. It was even worse than what normally tinged his voice when he spoke to her. Don't blow this, Grumpy.

She decided to step in before Thorin said anything that could get them all killed. "Erm… hello," she said with a small, awkward wave. Elrond's sharp eyes focused on her, his gaze making her want to squirm. "I'm Gemma LaRoche, and I believe that Gandalf and I have a number of things to discuss with you, if you are the wise friend he spoke so fondly of." Yes, she was laying the charm on thickly. "My friends and I have been through quite the journey already, we were hoping you'd be kind enough to gift us with your counsel." The elf smiled at her, reached forward, and kissed her hand. I've still got it, she thought to herself with satisfaction.

Elrond replied with foreign words, and Gloin, from behind her, shouted "What's he sayin'? Does he offer us insults?" The dwarves grumbled and stamped angrily at this.

"No," Gandalf said, "he's offering you food."

The dwarfs conversed in whispers, as if there really was anything to consider. They were all hungry and tired, and most of their supplies were lost when the ponies ran off. Honestly, their lack of manners was astounding. "Well, um… in that case, lead on," Gloin said.

Elrond smiled, and offered his arm to Gemma. She graciously accepted, hoping to make up for the rudeness of the others. Right now, this man…elf...was her saviour, and she was hoping he would allow her access to a bath. It was pretty much the only thing she could focus on; she just felt so grody. She made light conversation with him and Gandalf as they walked the corridors, and when she asked about the bath, Lord Elrond immediately asked a guard to lead her to a private room and have one drawn.

If Gemma had looked back as the guard led her away from the company, she might have seen the bitter look Thorin wore as he watched her, eyes glued to her movements.


"Oh," Gemma sighed as she finally slipped into the large claw-foot tub in the small bedroom she had been loaned. The bath had to be filled by several servant elves bringing large buckets of steaming water into the room. She had tried to help, but the elves had assured her that she did not need to. Really, she was glad, because she was so tired. Once the bath water had cooled a bit, she'd undressed, and now here she was, soaking behind a silk screen in hot water that smelt like violets. It was bliss. She quickly washed her hair and spent awhile carefully shaving with the straight razor she had asked for (which was especially good, because she had no way to shave, and after a week of travel she really needed to). Then she just lay back, allowing the warm water to ease her muscles.

It gave her time to think, which she hadn't had much of since she arrived. It had been constant motion all the time, never fully alone since the crash. And before she knew it, Gemma was crying, silent tears speeding down he cheeks. She had never had time to mourn for her fallen partner, only a quick riverside funeral. How could she have done that to Patrick? She should have done more. And he had said he'd loved her as he was dying. It made her mad; how could he do that to her, leave her with something like that; make her feel the worst guilt that she could not return the feelings? That, however, wasn't the only reason she cried. She had never mourned for herself. Even if she did make it home, this changed everything. How would she explain her absence to the F.B.I? Would she be able to go back? The Bureau had become her whole life, and she couldn't bear to lose all that she'd worked for. Gemma ran a finger over a scar, raw, red, and angry, on her chest, and then she was completely weeping, gasping out sobs. She wept with shameless self-pity for the sheer hopelessness of her situation; for the horrible broken mess that was Gemma LaRoche.


Thorin had refused the rooms offered to them, so Elrond had shown the company to a garden in which they had sent up their tents. The elven lord had given them directions to the dining area, telling them that dinner would be ready in twenty minutes. Thorin didn't like owing the elves anything. He wandered the garden as he waited, though it was really more like he was pacing. If Gemma had been here, he thought, she would have made some snide comment about how high-strung he was. He stopped pacing. Where had that come from? Since when did he think about how Gemma would react when she wasn't there, or think about her at all really, aside from a passing feeling of annoyance or anger? And when had he begun to think of her as Gemma, instead of Ms. LaRoche? It had been happening for a while, he realized. It caused a strange tightness in his chest.

"Thorin," Balin called, "it's about time for supper, I believe."

The Company met Elrond and Gandalf again in the dining hall. Thorin took a seat at a small head table with the two, while the rest found their place around a large one, where they immediately began to complain about the greenness, or leafiness, or general non-dwarf-friendliness of the food. "Lindir," Elrond called to another elf, the one they had met when they arrived. "Would you go fetch Lady LaRoche from her chambers? We have a place for her at the high table, and I would not want to begin without her."

The elf nodded, but, for reasons he did not quite understand, Thorin leapt from his seat and said, "No, I shall fetch Agent LaRoche." The others gave him odd looks, but Lindir pointed him in the right direction and he set off. He wondered why he chose to go; there was no real answer. He had just felt compelled to see her, alone, if only for a minute. Thorin came to the right door and, after a slight hesitation, knocked.


Knocking on her door snapped Gemma out of a hazy state of crying. She was still in the bath, which had now cooled. "Uh, come in," she called back. She heard the sound of the door open and close. Gemma stuck her bare foot out from behind the screen, saying, "I'm still in the bath back here, I'll be out in a moment."


Thorin wanted to hit himself for this stupid idea. She was in the bath (naked, some small part of his mind supplied), it was improper to be here. He could even see some of her legs poking out from behind the screen. His face flushed as he said, "Oh, uh, I just came to get you for dinner."


Shit, Gemma thought, Oakenshield had come to escort her? They didn't even like each other, why would he do that? She hadn't realized how long she had spent in the tub, and she quickly leapt out, wrapping her hair in a thick towel and her body in another. "Um, okay, I'll be out in a few minutes, if you want to wait." Idiot! Why would you ask him to wait?


Thorin didn't really know what to do, so he said "Alright." Stupid, he thought. Why did he say yes? He heard splashing and then silence for nearly a minute as he stood, still only a few steps into the room. "Uh, thanks. Hey, would you pass me my bag?" Gemma called eventually.

"...Yes." Thorin grabbed the duffle bag and slowly walked towards the screen. An elegant hand extended from behind, and he placed the strap in it, looking away to make sure he didn't see anything. He had that weird feeling in his chest again.


Gemma tried to ignore the awkwardness of the situation. It was a distraction at least, so she didn't even have to take a minute to put on her pretend face, it just appeared as her sadness and worry was shoved off into some recess of her mind. She rubbed some sort of balm in her hair, which had dried a bit while she lay in the tub and was now only slightly damp and falling in loose natural waves and curls. Good enough. An attendant had left a dress for her, but Gemma did not like to look of that thing. It had a corset that looked like a torture device, and was floor length, which she just knew would make her trip. Plus it was shimmery and in pastel colours, pale greens and pinks. Not really her style. Instead Gemma dug through her bag and pulled out her red dress; the one she had worn on a previous case and forgotten to take out of her bag. It was cranberry red and made of silk, high necked and with three-quarter sleeves and a hem that reached just above her knees, form-fitting but not too tight. Overall it was quite modest. It was the back that added the flair; the dress was backless, the edge elegantly dipping down to the small of her back. It was perfect; she couldn't wear low cut necklines anymore, so this let her be sexy while still hiding what needed to be hidden. Gemma slipped into the dress, readjusting the built in cups, and remembered when she'd worn it a month ago. The team had been investigating a wealthy business man who was believed to be funding terrorists overseas. Gemma had done a bit of undercover work, attending a gala the man had thrown. The dress had certainly been a hit with the wealthy, and slightly intoxicated, males invitees (and a few female ones too). Gemma absently wondered what Thorin would think. She slipped on the charcoal grey, slightly heeled shoes that the elf attendant had also left, and put on matching red lipstick that she had managed to find in her bag as well. She didn't quite understand why she was getting so dressed up, but she figured it would help make a good impression on the elves. Plus, every elf she had seen was super gorgeous, so this made Gemma feel a bit better about herself. She finally stepped out from behind the screen.


Thorin nearly choked when he saw her. When he first looked up from his perch on the end of the bed, all he saw was legs. Long and pale, muscled and totally smooth. His eyes slowly raked up her body. Her dress was short, shorter than anything he'd ever seen. It was a beautiful colour of red, and made of a smooth material that made him want to feel it. Her dark chestnut hair fell loose around her shoulders in waves and curls, and he had the urge to feel that too. Finally his eyes found her face; painted lips and green eyes. Eyes that held a strange, almost vulnerable, look.

"Well? Whatcha think? Too dressy? "Gemma asked, turning slightly as she did so to reveal her bare back. Thorin could feel his face on fire. Mahal.

"I, uh… well," Gemma bit her lip and smirked at his poor attempt to speak. Why did she have this effect on him? Yes, she was stunning, there was no denying it, but they didn't get along at all; he couldn't stand her. Right? "It's just that women don't usually reveal so much, um skin in this land. Not high class women at least," he told her. He immediately regretted it, certain that she would chew his head off for that comment. It was probably normal fashion in her world (the men there were lucky bastards), but it would be frowned upon here. Thorin was trying to keep an open mind about this, as she had told him to do so many times when he would judge her, but he could not get over the shock of her (beautiful) bare back.

But Gemma did not get mad. Instead she smacked her forehead and said, "Uh, I'm so stupid, of course it's not appropriate. I should have realised." Then her eyes lit up again and she went across the room to the window, which was adorned with sheer grey curtains. Reaching up, Gemma slid one off the curtain rod and wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl. "There. Matches my shoes and everything. Is that better?" She seemed sincere in her question, and Thorin thought he saw a bit of worry in her eyes, searching for his approval. He also noticed they were slightly red. This was a side he had not seen, though he supposed she had many sides he hadn't seen. They'd only known each other a little while. Still, he wondered if something was wrong.

He nodded, and extended an arm to her, which, after a moment, she took. Thorin steered Gemma to the outdoor dining hall silently, sneaking glances at her all the way.


Thorin led Gemma past the main table to a smaller head table. The dwarves gaped as she passed, and Bofur even had the nerve to whistle at her. Gemma punched him as she walked by, and Thorin couldn't help but smile. The two sat down at the head table with Gandalf and Elrond, who both greeted her with raised eyebrows. Actually, Gandalf was the only one to raise his eyebrows; Elrond's were stuck that way. "Ah, my lady," the elf lord said, "Gandalf has just finished telling me about your unique situation. I wouldn't have believed it if I had not sensed your strange aura when we met."

Gemma took a large gulp of elven wine and replied with a laugh. "Is having a 'strange aura' a good thing or a bad thing? Because I don't think we have doctors for that sort of thing where I'm from."

Elrond laughed too, "We have much to discuss, Ms. LaRoche. I cannot guarantee it, but I think I may have a solution to your predicament."

Gemma smiled widely and they continued to make friendly conversation. Thorin was surprised, and impressed, by her diplomatic skills. Everything he knew about her suggested that she would not be interested in the fake smiles and formalities of diplomacy; she was too genuine, too bluntly truthful for that. But then, he did know that she was a good liar and part of a bureaucratic institute back where she was from, so he supposed it made sense. He just never thought she'd enjoy it, and maybe he was right. Maybe she was just an even better liar than he'd thought. Gemma even convinced Elrond to look at the elven blades Thorin and Gandalf had found in the troll horde.

Finally, conversation turned to the Company's quest. Gandalf mentioned the map, but lied about the details of their interest in it, for which Thorin was grateful. He had felt uneasy ever since they had arrived here, in the home of the elves, their enemies. He just knew that the elves would try to stop them. So far, though, everything had gone okay. Elrond had even gifted them with provisions for their continued journey. Thorin knew this would change. He wished they had not come. It was that damned wizard's fault. He realized now that he had stopped blaming Gemma, as he had done before. He had been angry with her; in fact, he was pretty sure he had been preparing to yell at her when he had walked towards her room. Those feelings left once he entered, once he saw her in that dress, once he had seen that look in her eyes that he did not quite understand.

Just as Elrond began to question the true intentions of their journey, Bofur and the other dwarves managed to hijack the elven musicians, and began a lively chant. As food began to fly through the air, the elves became uncomfortable with these poor manners. Thorin tried to remain polite, but he was rather happy with the chaos his kin were stirring up. Gemma began to laugh, a throaty chuckle that grew and made Thorin want to join in. And yet her smile didn't reach her eyes, he noticed. Kili came up to the head table and extended his hand to her, motioning with his head to ask for a dance. "Oh, I'm not sure I'm your type, Kili. I heard you have a thing for elven men," Gemma teased, referencing the embarrassing conversation they had overheard from the lower table, but took his hand and let a now red faced Kili guide her to the floor. They started up a rowdy jig, and Thorin could still hear her laughter above the stomping feet and rumbling voices as she switched partners. She was having a little difficulty, but her hair streamed out behind her as she was twirled, and Thorin was so entranced that he nearly didn't hear Elrond suggest that they go somewhere more private to discuss things. He nodded, and asked Elrond and Gandalf to wait for a moment.


Gemma spun away from Fili, laughing. She wasn't even that great of a dancer, but the dance was easy and fun, so long as she steered her partner away from the open fire burning near the lower table. Finishing her twirl she collided with a warm body; her hands resting on his chest, Gemma stopped nose to nose with Thorin (well, not exactly nose to nose, what with the significant height difference). His hand came to rest on her hip as they stared.

"I... The elf lord has asked to speak with me. Would you join us? I am sure he needs to discuss matters with you as well." Gemma nodded and stepped back so that they were no longer chest to chest. Thorin fetched Balin as well, and they returned to Gandalf and Elrond, who led them to a private chamber. Gemma grabbed Bilbo on her way out. The two of them had become good friends, and she had a feeling he would not want to miss this.

"Now," said Lord Elrond once they were behind closed doors, "I am told you have something to show me."

Gemma saw Thorin stiffen. He rounded on Gandalf. "That map is a relic of my people. I will not give it to our enemy!"

"I did not give you that map so that you could turn away help," Gandalf replied.

"I did not think it was yours to give!" Thorin shouted. Gemma and Bilbo shared a look; it seemed to be becoming a habit in these strange situations.

"You stand in the presence of one of the few people who can read that map. Give it to Lord Elrond." Gandalf implored.

"Thorin," Gemma spoke up from where she stood behind him. He shot her a scathing glare, but she would not be deterred this time; she glared right back. "Don't be stubborn."

Thorin's glare softened a fraction, and slowly he pulled out the map and handed it to Elrond, though Balin protested. He had actually listened to her; how very unexpected.

The elf examined the map. "What is your interest in Erebor?"

"It's mainly academic," Gandalf assured, giving Thorin a nod, which he returned. Gemma could tell that Elrond knew they were lying, but he let it go for the moment.

"Well, it would seem fate has brought you to Rivendell this night, Master Oakenshield. This map contains moon runes, which can only be read by the light of the same moon by which they were written. As fortune has it, that same moon shines tonight."

The elf opened a set of doors, ushering the group onto a balcony, over which a waterfall fell with moonlight shining through. Holding the map up, he read, "Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's day will shine upon the keyhole."

"Durin's Day?" Bilbo asked.

"Dwarvish New Years, when the last moon of autumn and first sun of winter shine together." Gandalf informed them.

"Durin's day approaches quickly, we must be in exactly the right spot at the right time if we are to find the entrance!" Balin exclaimed. Gemma face-palmed. So much for secrecy.

"So you wish to enter the mountain?" Elrond asked, though Gemma guessed that he suspected their intentions all along.

Thorin snatched back the map, saying, "And what if we do?"

"There are some who would deem it... unwise." Elrond and Thorin were locked in a stare down. Afraid that things might get out of hand, as Thorin looked like he wanted to rip out Elrond's throat, Gemma stepped in and said "Thorin, shouldn't you go inform the others of this new development?" Thorin did not acknowledge her, but after a few seconds he stomped out with Balin following.

"Well that was... interesting," Gemma mumbled.

Elrond turned to her, all traces of anger gone from his face once more. Not that there had been much before. Elves didn't seem to be very emotionally expressive, so "anger" was only implied by his knitted eyebrows. "Why don't we all go back into my study? I have news for you which will be less... volatilely received, I'm sure."

Gemma bit her lip, eager yet nervous to learn how Elrond hoped to send her home. Bilbo patted her on the arm as he read the emotions in her face. Then they all went back inside to discuss Gemma's ticket home.

AN: Told you it was a long chapter. It was mostly filler, with lots of POV changes and chock full of fluff, but I rather enjoy this one. Some more hints thrown in the mix, too. The next chapter will contain that drunken scene I mentioned, as well as some revelations on Gemma's past. These will NOT be the secret that I continually hint about. You'll have to wait a bit longer for that.

Thank you all for reading, and thanks for the wonderful reviews. I'm so glad that you enjoy Gemma. I had some more guesses, and while none of them were right (I highly doubt it'll be something you'll be able to guess) you guys are on the right track. I also had some comments on Gemma's character. I think by know you're beginning to realize that she has some trouble in her past and some ongoing issues, and this affects her character. This is why she might not be acting in a way that conforms to the way you might imagine and F.B.I agent to act. All in due time, my lovely readers.