This is my first fanfiction ever posted in English. I decided to try translating it from French using DeepL translator. I'm sure there will be some errors as English is not my first language so feel free to tell me if you stumble upon something that doesn't make sense. If anyone would be interested in beta reading, I would be more than happy to work with you.
I kept the French title which is "Incandescence". I might change it in the future if I find a better alternative.
I hope that you will enjoy reading this story!
Chapter 1
The first thing Eryn noticed when she woke up was the hardness and coldness of the stone floor she was lying on. This was quickly followed by a strong smell of wood and dust that assailed her nostrils and made her want to sneeze furiously. She instinctively tried to rub her nose which was tickling but her numb arm refused to comply. The only thing she managed to move for several seconds after waking up was her eyelids, which she was forced to flutter several times before her eyes could finally adjust to the surrounding darkness. When her sleeping limbs became responsive again, she sat up, before standing on still wobbly legs. Immediately she raised a hand to her head and winced, feeling dizzy. She could hardly see, yet she felt like she was in a washing machine drum with how the room was spinning around her.
Only one thought occupied her mind at this moment: where was she, and especially, how had she arrived there? The only thing she could remember was falling asleep in her bed at the same time as usual after a relaxing weekend evening. After that, it was a blur.
The day had gone normally. After a week of intense work due to a particularly large pastry order in the bakery where she was employed, she had looked forward to Friday night. She had spent her Saturday in the best way she could have imagined: reading a book, watching her favorite series, listening to music... Quite an ordinary day in short. So what could she have done wrong to end up in this situation?
One thing was sure, she had not come to this place by herself, or at least she had no memory of it. She began to imagine a thousand different explanations, from the most gloomy to the most improbable.
But in the end, there was only one way to discover the truth, and staying in the coldness of these stone walls was not the solution.
After a few seconds during which she had to lean against a nearby piece of furniture, Eryn regained her senses and was able to stand a little more firmly on her two feet despite the unpleasant buzzing that persisted in her skull. Thanks to the rays of light that filtered through the contours of a wooden door, she could make out a few shelves of the same material around her, where rows of dusty bottles were placed. Reaching out, she let her fingers brush the weathered labels.
A wine cellar.
When she walked to the door and put her hand on the handle, she was surprised to see it open without resistance. Her paranoid side almost expected it to be locked somehow by a potential kidnapper who would want to keep her locked up. Thank God, she seemed to be wrong.
She kept her guard up, however, as she slipped through the opening. Behind the door was a corridor so wide it could have been a whole hall. There were several rooms on either side, some with doorless openings that led directly into the main area. One of them appeared to be the kitchen, as from where she stood Eryn could spot a row of pots and pans hanging on the wall. The décor was homely and left no doubt about the place she was in: it was a well-maintained, though very rustic, house.
Eryn was interrupted in her observation of the interior when she heard voices. Several people (undoubtedly men, judging by how deep they were) seemed to be in the midst of an animated conversation, although she could not clearly make out the words they were exchanging.
Eryn decided to walk down the hallway to her left, in the direction of the voices, in order to hear the conversation more clearly, and perhaps at the same time clarify the disturbing situation she was in. She tiptoed through the corridor, anxious to remain unnoticed.
As she moved through the house, she noticed several things. The first was that the ceiling was very low, and all the furniture was much too small for a person of her size. It was unlikely that she had suddenly grown while sleeping, so whoever lived here must have been particularly small.
Even more puzzling was the fact that the various pictures, maps, and other knick-knacks that decorated the walls and the general atmosphere of the place seemed strangely familiar to her, although she couldn't quite figure out why she got that impression.
Putting all her questions aside, she continued on her way and decided to concentrate on the voices, which grew louder as she approached the room from which they came. A warm, flickering light was emanating from the room, probably from a fireplace.
Without a sound, Eryn crept toward the entrance but did not pass through the archway behind which all the people she could now hear without difficulty were gathered. Instead, she leaned against the wall directly next to the opening and listened.
At least five different individuals had spoken and seemed to be in the middle of a very serious conversation about a mountain, a key, and a secret door. Once again, a very strange feeling made her frown. A feeling of deja-vu, as if she had already witnessed the discussion, but could not put her finger on it.
But all her questions were swept away when a deep voice uttered a single name: Thorin.
As soon as she heard it, Eryn's heart skipped a beat. She put all the pieces of the puzzle in order: the familiar décor, the far too small furniture, and of course, the name of the Dwarf King, Thorin Oakenshield. She was in Bag End, in the home of Bilbo Baggins, at the beginning of the quest to recover Erebor, the lost mountain. And on the other side of the opening was the one and only company of Thorin Oakenshield, and Gandalf, the famous gray wizard.
Eryn raised her hand to her lip, which she had been gnawing furiously, her thoughts racing. How was this possible? How, of all the things that could have happened to her, could she have ended up here? It couldn't be real. And yet, it wasn't a dream, of that she was certain. No, everything was far too tangible, far too detailed and precise. She was going to have to face the facts: somehow, she had found a way to land in her favorite universe since she was little. The story of The Hobbit.
Unfortunately, that realization wasn't helping her at the moment. She really only had one option: she would have to reveal her presence to the company if she wanted to get out of this situation. Although none of the people present knew her, she had read and watched the movies and books they appeared in many times. They were her best chance at getting help.
Determined to take matters into her own hands, Eryn clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and braced herself for the reaction of everyone on the other side of the wall.
She barely made it two steps inside the room when suddenly all conversation came to a screeching halt and the dwarves leaped from their chairs, expressions dark and weapons in hand. Or rather, knives and forks in hand, since if her memory was correct, they had left their weapons in the hallway after inviting themselves into poor Bilbo's house. It was so comical that she could have laughed if she hadn't been on the receiving end of those threatening looks.
She should have expected this harsh reaction. After all, how would she have reacted if a complete stranger had appeared out of nowhere, in the middle of a secret meeting?
Still, she was stunned and almost frightened by the serious faces and intimidating posture of the dwarves. She wondered what would be the best thing to say in such a situation. But no matter how hard she thought about it, no words could get past her lips.
This was not the case for Thorin, who cautiously approached Eryn. He was the only one of the dwarves who had not grabbed a piece of crockery when he saw her, and yet he was the most imposing of all. His face was closed and hard, his eyes cold and suspicious. He was alert, as if ready to jump on the young woman at the slightest movement she might have attempted. But Eryn was frozen in place and could not have moved a finger if asked.
She could only stand there, and watch the scene that was unfolding before her eyes. Its similarities with the movie were disturbing. The dwarves were all present, from Thorin's nephews Fili and Kili to the two brothers Bombur and Bofur. They were sitting at the table, gathered around an old map and a key that she recognized as those of Erebor.
After long seconds in a heavy silence and several exchanges of glances between the members of the company, it was without any gentleness that Thorin finally addressed Eryn.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" he asked.
It took the young woman a few moments to register the words that came out of the dwarf's mouth, but when her answer was not immediate, he became impatient.
"Answer! I won't ask you a second time," he exclaimed abruptly.
Eryn felt very small, crushed under the weight of Thorin's gaze, despite being a few inches taller. She finally noticed that Bilbo and Gandalf were also present, still sitting side by side when the latter stood up and tried to appease the situation.
"My friends, please calm down! Why don't you all sit down again? I'm sure our guest will answer your questions if you would just let her speak without brandishing your knives."
The dwarves exchanged looks of defiance and hesitation once again, before turning to their leader. Thorin nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off Eryn. Each of them lowered his makeshift weapon and sat back down, still in a deathly silence, which the only dwarf still standing broke again.
"I expect some answers. Explain yourself now," he ordered.
"Come now, Thorin, she's only a young lady. It seems to me that common courtesy is required," Gandalf scolded, raising an eyebrow.
Although the wizard handled the situation more gently than his companion dwarves, he looked just as suspicious. Still, Eryn was very grateful for his efforts.
As she tried to open her mouth and finally utter her first words, she was caught again by a violent wave of dizziness that caused her to stagger. She caught herself by grabbing the back of the nearest chair which happened to be Thorin's and tried to regain her composure. It was after a few seconds of hesitation that she finally decided to speak.
"I'm sorry, I don't feel good. Can I sit for a minute?" she implored while approaching the table.
"Stay where you are," ordered Thorin, still on his guard. "I will not allow you to move until you give me an answer."
Once again, Gandalf came to her rescue.
"Bilbo, why don't you leave her your chair," he asked. "Come here, my dear, sit down. You look very pale."
Bilbo got up and pulled the chair he was sitting on. When he saw the young woman staggering, he grabbed her by the elbow and helped her to the chair. She thanked him with a smile which he returned shyly.
Since her awakening a few minutes earlier, the earth had not stopped moving under her feet. She could shake her head, fix an imaginary point in front of her, there was nothing to do. She could not get rid of her discomfort. Worse still, a tiredness which she had not felt until then was keeping her from thinking properly.
But sitting on this chair allowed Eryn to feel immediately much better. The room had stopped spinning around her and her cheeks gradually regained their rosy hue.
"Good," said Gandalf. "Now, can you tell us your name, and why you are here?" he asked.
Eryn glanced hesitantly at Thorin, who had sat down at the end of the table to her right. He was watching her with a stern look and tapping his fingers impatiently on the table.
"My name is Eryn Beaumont," she answered quickly.
She wondered if she should tell the whole truth, but quickly decided to reveal only what was necessary when she remembered the violent reaction from the dwarves upon seeing her a few minutes earlier. She had no desire to put them on guard even more by telling them that she knew every one of their names and more.
"I... I wish I could tell you what happened," she continued. "But honestly, I have no idea. I woke up on the floor of the wine cellar about ten minutes ago and I don't know how I got here."
Thorin's eyebrow twitched in annoyance as he listened to the young woman's explanation, which he found more than a little unsatisfactory.
" Surely you don't expect me to believe you?" He mocked. "How could you find yourself in the cellar without having gone through the front door?"
"I assure you, I have no idea. Believe me, I wish I knew as much as you do," sighed Eryn.
Several of the dwarves growled loudly in disbelief. Dwalin was the first to make his opinion known.
"You really think we're going to believe your story? Who do you think we are?" he exclaimed, threatening.
Gloin took over in his indignation.
"I say she's likely a spy or an assassin, sent to charm us with her airs of damsel in distress to better kill us in our sleep !" he cried, jumping from his chair.
Bifur, who only spoke the dwarf language, said something in Khuzdul that made the rest of the company react. Nods and murmurs of approval followed. Bewildered, Eryn turned a pleading look to Gandalf. Perhaps she had expected a softer expression from him, perhaps even a more trusting one, but his face gave no indication of his emotions.
The commotion only grew in intensity and soon the young woman found herself amid an outburst of dwarves exclaiming in an incomprehensible mixture of common tongue and Khuzdul. Sensing that things were not going in her favor, she tried to reassure the rest of the group.
"I'm not a spy! I have no bad intentions and I didn't lie, I swear," she tried to defend herself.
Gandalf put a hand on her shoulder, asking her to let him handle the anger of the company. In his long life, he had had to deal with dwarves countless times, and there was often only one thing that could appease such a situation.
He stood up and stretched out to his full height, or at least to the full height that the low ceiling of the little Hobbit dwelling allowed, and, banging his staff on the floor, thundered, "Now is not the time for useless quarrels, master dwarves."
The effect was instantaneous. All fell silent at once, and even the loudest of the dwarves, who had not hesitated to get up and seemed ready to come to blows a few minutes earlier, shriveled in their chairs under the weight of the wizard's gaze. The latter, satisfied to see that he had not lost his influence, softened and leaned on his stick before continuing.
"Now if you don't mind, we will resume our discussion in a little more calm and perhaps we will finally manage to find a solution."
In all the wisdom that came with his position as the oldest dwarf in the company, Balin, who felt the tension rising almost immediately after the wizard's performance, stood up and spoke up as well.
"Perhaps it would be best to continue this conversation in a more private setting," he suggested, glancing at Eryn and Bilbo. "After all, this is an important decision that I think should be discussed among the official members of the company."
He emphasized the word "official" and Eryn understood what he was trying to say. She and Bilbo, who had not yet signed the contract, had no say in this conversation. She was reluctant to let the dwarves decide her fate, something that concerned her entirely, without being able to participate. But she understood why Balin had intervened when she felt the mood lighten. He wasn't looking at her suspiciously like the rest of the company. He looked more gentle and understanding, and she decided to interpret his gesture as one of kindness. He was trying to spare her from the wrath of the dwarves, most of whom did not mince their words. Eryn had always hated confrontation so she felt grateful, in a way.
Thorin, who had remained silent while his companions raged, nodded resolutely.
"Dwalin, take her outside with Mr. Baggins."
The dwarf named Dwalin, who was probably the most intimidating of all with his shaved head, tattoos, and thick biceps, stood up and stomped toward the exit. On his way, he nodded and growled at Eryn and Bilbo, ordering them to follow.
"Keep an eye on her. If she ever gets the idea to run away, do whatever it takes to make her not want to try again," Thorin added, giving the young woman a meaningful look.
He was not joking, and she intended to take his warning very seriously.
Eryn headed for the front door after Bilbo, followed closely by a particularly ill-tempered dwarf, armed with two axes whose sharp blades gleamed in the light of the oil lamps. This was a situation she never thought she would experience, and one she would have very much liked to avoid.
When she got outside, she heard the door close heavily behind her and let out a long sigh, soon imitated by a bewildered Bilbo who was pushed to the limit. She followed him with her eyes as he dropped onto a small bench, frowning. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a long wooden pipe. Sticking it between his lips, he chewed on the end without bothering to light it. Eryn decided to keep him company, very uncomfortable with the idea of standing next to a fuming Dwalin who stared at her as if she would run away at any moment. She sat down next to the Hobbit and wrapped her arms around her knees to protect herself from the cool breeze.
Night had fallen and with it came the coldness of the moon. It shone brightly, and the lack of outside light allowed it to cast a white hue over the landscape. The green hills stretched for miles in front of Eryn, but she could only make out their outlines. It was a sight she had always wanted to admire but the circumstances and the darkness of the night prevented her from really enjoying it.
Feeling the melancholy creep up on her, Eryn took her eyes off the sleeping nature and turned them to Bilbo. With one hand, he was holding his pipe, and with the other, he was searching the pockets of his pants looking for something. After several seconds of growing annoyance, he finally pulled out a small box of matches and lit his pipe. He turned to Eryn and handed her the box.
"Do you smoke?" he asked.
The young woman shook her head. She had never smoked in her life, but if she was going to start, she would have chosen this moment. Unfortunately (or fortunately), she wasn't used to walking around with a pipe or a pack of cigarettes that she wouldn't use.
Bilbo shrugged and put the matches away in his pocket. He took several puffs from his pipe and let out a deep sigh.
After several minutes of unbearable silence, Eryn finally decided to speak.
"Well," she began tentatively, "It could have been worse."
"Great," she thought. Of all the things she could have said, she had to start with that.
Judging by the Hobbit's bewildered expression, she should have thought twice before saying the first thing that came to her mind.
"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Try having your dinner stolen by a bunch of dwarves with the worst manners, then being chased out of your own house like some sort of pest! Let me tell you, if things could have been worse, they would have ended with my death." He took an aggressive drag on his pipe, growing increasingly frustrated. "Well, the evening is not over yet, who knows what other misfortune might befall us."
Eryn did not know how to respond to this. She suddenly felt very guilty for having turned up at Bilbo's house in this way, even though she herself had not asked for anything. She knew only too well from having read the book and seen the movie a thousand times over that the evening had been more than eventful and emotional for the quiet little man from the Shire. She opened her mouth to apologize but Bilbo was quicker to do so.
"Forgive my rudeness, it's been a very long day," he sighed with a regretful look. "You're the one who ended up in a complete stranger's wine cellar, threatened by a dozen dwarves with sharp knives. That must have been terrifying. It sure isn't a sight I'd want to wake up to." He turned back to Dwalin, who had not taken his eyes off Eryn and was still standing on guard, weapons in hand.
"No offense, Mr. Dwalin," he added with a wave of his pipe in his direction. The dwarf answered with another of his characteristic grunts.
"So you believe me?" asked Eryn, hopeful. To know that at least one person here didn't think she was a liar would greatly lift her spirits.
"Well, I don't pretend to know anything about being a spy or an assassin, but I really doubt that you have what it takes. On the other hand, I know a respectable young woman when I see one," he said with a small smile.
Eryn felt her heart warm up. Bilbo was everything the kind Hobbit she had imagined, caring and always looking for the best in others.
"Thank you so much, Bilbo, you don't know how much this means to me," she said sincerely, putting a hand on her chest.
He was about to brush off her thanks with a wave of his hand when they heard the voices of the dwarves from inside the house. Another of their heated arguments had broken out.
"You'll thank me when we're all alive and snug in a nice bed," he sighed, shaking his head.
Inside, the silence was deafening. The door had just closed with a thud behind Eryn, Bilbo, and Dwalin, and the tension around the table was palpable. No one dared speak a word for fear that a new wave of insults and rude gestures would follow.
The only one who dared to break the silence was Gandalf, who, tired of his evening spent putting up with the stubbornness of the dwarves, was eager to get this new source of quarreling over with. After taking a deep breath from his pipe, he sat back in his chair, and in a firm voice, leaving no room for discussion, he announced: "Whatever our dear Bilbo decides to do about this quest, she cannot stay here."
This was enough to get the argument going again. Everyone had something to say and they made it known without any consideration for the person sitting beside them, who was already trying to shout their opinion louder than the others. The result was a chorus of low and high-pitched voices, insulting gestures, and their outraged responses.
"We should send her to Ered Luin and lock her up! Show her what dwarves reserve for assassins!" one said, followed by several enthusiastic nods.
"And let her get away with peaceful days in the dungeons? Over my dead body! If she's in league with the vermin sent to kill Thorin, she must be dealt with immediately, lass or no lass!" replied the other without delay.
This time, Gandalf had enough. He chose to let them gut each other if that was the way of the dwarves. He waited patiently, drawing on his pipe, for the company to calm down.
It was only after Thorin had growled an order to be quiet followed by one of his blood-curdling glances that silence finally returned. Fortunately, the long minutes of commotion had not been a total waste of time since they had allowed the wizard to think and come to a conclusion.
"It's decided," he announced. "She will join us until a better option comes along."
Gloin saw red. He saw through Gandalf, who was on the girl's side and had bought her story, but he wasn't fooled. She was not going to travel among the dwarves, as if she were one of them.
"A better option? Hah!" he exclaimed, clearly offended. " Why not just leave her on the side of the road? With a bit of luck, she'll end up eaten by the wolves! A more than suitable fate for a spy."
At this, the wizard frowned. He knew the dwarves' unwavering loyalty and uncompromising nature. Attacking those closest to them was the worst thing one could do, as they would take it personally and respond without mercy. And while this was a quality that was highly appreciated in most cases, this time it was too much.
He was about to reprimand the dwarf with the thick ginger beard but Thorin reacted more quickly.
"And give her a chance to go back to her people and report every single detail of our quest? No, I won't risk it. Who knows how long she's been lurking in the shadows, eavesdropping," he said indignantly.
"Do not be too hasty in your judgment, master dwarves," Gandalf urged them. "We do not yet know everything about this young lady, but there was no deception in her intentions."
Dori, who had so far been content with sipping the cup of tea he had emptied and refilled several times since the beginning of the conversation, could not contain his disbelief.
"You don't mean to say that you believe her, Gandalf! he exclaimed.
"It is clear that she has only told us part of the truth, but she has not lied to us," he insisted. "We will not put her at unnecessary risk until we have all the information we need to make a fair and appropriate decision."
Although said in a perfectly courteous tone, the dwarves understood that this was not something the wizard would compromise on.
"So what do you propose?" asked Thorin, who, being a good leader, had carefully listened to the opinions of each of his companions.
"She will follow us on our way to the Lonely Mountain until further notice."
When he saw the scowl form on Thorin's face, Gandalf added: "This will allow you to keep an eye on her, and prevent news of your quest from spreading among the wrong people. It is our best option, believe me."
This seemed to convince Thorin, who, though reluctant, nodded and resumed with a firm tone, "Fine, we will do as you say."
The decision was made and the verdict given. This was the way things would be and the whole company had no other choice but to accept it, some more readily than others.
After this long and eventful discussion, Thorin felt the weight of the evening fall on his shoulders. He let out a long sigh and crossed his arms over his chest.
"As if we needed this kind of problem before we even left," he growled in a barely audible voice. Gandalf, who had heard him, tried to reassure him.
"Don't worry too much, Thorin. I am sure it is not this young maiden you will have to worry about on your way to Erebor."
Indeed, Thorin was well aware of the fact that this would not be the first obstacle the dwarves would have to face during their long journey to their lost home. He was all too familiar with the many dangers that lurked beyond, having faced them many times before. What was one poor lost child compared to the fury of the dragon that awaited them at the end of the road?
"I'll leave you the honor to tell her the news. You seem intent on defending her, she will be your responsibility," he concluded.
With that, he left the dining room with a dignified step and headed for the living room where their belongings were gathered. Several of his companions followed him and only Dori and Ori remained in the dining room, as well as Balin, who was gathering the documents scattered on the table before slipping them inside his coat.
Gandalf stood up and put a hand on the shoulder of the young dwarf with the scarf and woolen gloves as he walked by.
"My dear Ori, why don't you go and fetch our mysterious guest," the wizard asked kindly.
The dwarf, shy and not very talkative by nature, simply nodded and made his way to the front door. He was not yet used to the presence of such a large man in their midst and was quite impressed.
His companions had now all gathered in the living room. They could be heard laughing and chatting happily from the dining room. It was a nice change of atmosphere after the earlier tension. Such was the nature of dwarves: they could go from raging anger to laughter in a matter of minutes, in a most casual manner.
With a soft smile on his face, Gandalf made his way to the small room with its many bookshelves, which served as both office and reading room. He sat down heavily in one of the armchairs which, although much wider than the other two, was still too narrow for the wizard to be completely comfortable. Nonetheless, he waited patiently squeezed in between the leather armrests for the young girl to return. A very strange girl, who had appeared in the middle of a meeting organized in great secrecy. Although Gandalf had not detected any lies or bad intentions in her - and he had an eye for such things - she had clearly not revealed the whole truth. Which was understandable given the circumstances of her arrival and the rough reception she'd received. Anyone would be reluctant to freely give up potentially sensitive information to a group of dwarves as rough as they were intimidating. The wizard hoped, however, that the young woman would be more willing to tell her story in a more intimate and less threatening setting.
He did not have to wait long to hear the steps of two people in the corridor. He watched with amusement as the young woman appeared shyly in the doorway.
"Good evening, Gandalf," she greeted. "You wanted to see me?"
"Come in, my dear, and sit down. I simply wished to have a word with you, nothing very serious," reassured the wizard.
Eryn hesitantly slipped into the room, anxious to face another interrogation and not knowing how to answer the questions. She was followed very closely by the bald dwarf who had been shadowing her since the beginning of the evening. She had almost gotten used to his imposing aura and he didn't scare her as much as he used to, at least he scared her less than he annoyed her at that moment. She didn't bother to hide her grimace when he planted his two feet firmly in the entrance and continued to stare at her disdainfully.
Gandalf noticed her discomfort and decided to release her from it. He had no intention of letting the dwarf hear their conversation anyway.
"Thank you, Mr. Dwalin, I think I can take over now," he said firmly.
The warrior squinted and stared at them for several seconds, arms crossed, reluctant to leave the wizard and the girl unattended. Eryn tried to make herself as small as possible to soften the image that the dwarf had of her. He must have come to the conclusion that she didn't pose much of a threat because he relaxed his stance and turned on his heels with a grunt.
"Hmph."
After he disappeared down the hall, Eryn took the liberty of closing the door and turned back to the wizard. The latter motioned to the chair opposite him with a gesture of his pipe. Understanding the allusion, the young woman settled in the chair as comfortably as she could, that is, not very much, due to the small size of the furniture and the anxiety that kept rising at the idea of having to answer new questions, especially given how tired she felt. She braced herself anyway and waited for the old man to speak. He did not do so until many seconds later, after relighting his long extinguished pipe and taking several puffs. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to end the conversation, unlike Eryn.
"Funny evening, isn't it?" he finally said without showing any emotion.
"I never thought I'd end up in this situation," sighed the girl.
" Is it particularly unusual, where you come from, to meet dwarves and hobbits?" he asked with false innocence.
It was clear to Eryn what he was getting at. She was not surprised, the wizard, true to his reputation, was never one to speak fully. No, looking for answers in roundabout ways was much more fun to him. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for her, she may have been a quiet and unassuming person, but she was almost as good with words as a politician.
"Yes, they don't run the streets, that's for sure," she replied.
She tried to use the same sustained register that the magician used to mask her strangeness as much as possible. It would take some practice before she got used to it, but she was surprised to find that the words came to her quite naturally. Perhaps the hours spent locked away at home devouring books had served some purpose after all.
"In any case, it is a good thing you crossed our path if you are as lost as you say you are. Although the Shire is relatively safe, who knows what you might have stumbled upon had you appeared in any other part of this world," Gandalf continued.
Eryn was unsure how to respond and simply nodded. The wizard's approach made her nervous. She was afraid of saying too much or not enough and arousing his curiosity about certain things she would rather keep secret for the time being. But she was willing to share part of the truth. If he was even remotely accurate to the description, he and Bilbo would probably be the most trustworthy. Besides, she didn't feel any malice or disdain on his part, and the same could not be said for the rest of the company. He was obviously still suspicious, but who could blame him? She hoped that by taking a step in his direction and being honest with him, he might in turn share his knowledge and wisdom in hopes of finding a solution. She decided to speak as she saw the magician thoughtfully taking a drag on his pipe. He was still in no hurry to finish, but Eryn had only one thing on her mind: sleep.
"Gandalf, there's something I'd like to talk to you about," she confessed.
"I'm listening, speak freely," the old man encouraged in a reassuring voice.
Eryn took a deep breath before launching herself. She didn't know where to start and decided to let the conversation take its course. Gandalf would probably have a lot of questions for her after hearing her story.
"Well, first of all, I haven't been completely honest with you. I really don't know how I ended up here, but I do remember what happened before that," she explained. The magician nodded patiently and motioned for her to continue. "Actually, nothing special happened, really. I ate dinner, brushed my teeth, read a book... and went to bed, just like every other day. The only difference was that I didn't wake up in my bed, but on the frozen floor of a wine cellar. And not just any wine cellar, of all places, I had to fall in Bilbo's house. Well, there are worse places, I could have ended up in the depths of Moria or in front of the gates of Mordor. That would've been interesting, to say the least," she laughed sarcastically.
She hadn't realized it, but as her frustration grew, she began to speak with the same familiarity she had her whole life. Gandalf noticed the difference and slowly began putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
"Could it be?" he murmured between two puffs of smoke.
Her odd way of speaking, her unusual clothes, and the incredible story she claimed to have happened to her all pointed in the same direction: she wasn't from here. Worse, she probably came from a different world altogether. The magician never thought he would witness such a thing in his long life, and yet. If the young woman was telling the truth, and of that Gandalf was almost convinced, then all the elves' theories about the existence of the spirit and even more so, about the possibility of astral travel, would be confirmed. It would prove an invaluable discovery in their understanding of the world.
Slowly, as if still digesting the conclusion he had reached, the old man placed his pipe on the stack of books at his side and folded his hands in his lap.
"Miss Beaumont, I never imagined I would cross paths with a traveler from between the worlds in my time. I must say I was not prepared for such a discovery when visiting an old friend," he admitted softly.
Eryn thought she had misheard him and needed a few seconds to register his words. A traveler from between the worlds? She had never heard of such a thing. But when she remembered how she had arrived at the Hobbit's home she gradually understood what he was referring to. Somehow, though totally unconsciously, she had found a way to leave her reality for another: a journey between worlds.
How was this possible? It sounded like a scenario straight out of a science fiction movie. This kind of thing didn't happen in the real world.
"I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at, Gandalf," she replied, refusing to believe it.
She would need much more explanation before she could accept such a possibility. For now, she decided to go with a much more plausible theory. She must have fallen asleep in the middle of a gas leak that gave her completely crazy, and incredibly vivid dreams. It was far-fetched but already more credible than the conclusion the magician seemed to have reached. Nevertheless, the latter seemed more than convinced of his discovery.
"On the contrary, my dear, I think you know exactly what I mean."
She lowered her eyes under the piercing glance of the magician and fixed them on her fingers which, unconsciously, had started to pull on the seams of her tee-shirt. With a voice hardly audible, she asked, "I would have crossed I don't know what dimension to end up here, a world created from scratch in a fictional novel? It doesn't make sense. Such a thing doesn't exist." Her tone was almost imploring: she seemed to be begging the old man to take back his words, to drop the act and admit that he was behind the biggest joke of the century. But no. He was deadly serious.
"Well, this is indeed very peculiar and a particularly rare occurrence, yet not as unlikely as one might think." He raised his eyebrows at the mention of the book but decided not to insist for the time being. The young woman seemed lost and discouraged. He could sense that fatigue was weighing heavily on her and that she was still suffering from the after-effects of her astral travel, hence the dizziness to which she seemed to be prone. He would not torment her any further for the evening.
"I understand that it is difficult to imagine, but it would seem to be quite real. In any case, rest assured, I have no intention of letting you go through this alone. You have my support," he assured her with a sympathetic smile.
Eryn looked up with hope and gratitude at the magician who felt his heart soften at the vulnerability of the young woman. Yes, he would do everything he could to help her. Although the dwarves' quest was of the utmost importance, he would not let her down. He reached out a wrinkled hand and placed it on Eryn's knee and squeezed gently.
This simple gesture warmed her heart. The poor reception she had received, although understandable, had upset her. Nobody would like to be confronted like that by the people they had always admired. But that was where all the difference lay: Thorin and his company were not fictional characters. They were real, they had lives, values, dreams, and desires, and most importantly, they had everything to lose if things didn't go as expected. And Eryn was the epitome of the unexpected.
" Regarding your future with the company, now," the wizard continued, "Thorin has decided to let you travel with us until further notice."
At this, the young woman felt a hint of excitement mixed with worry. Participating in an adventure of this scale was everything she had dreamed of for years, but she knew all too well the dangers that would await them at every turn. She wasn't sure she wanted to face orcs, goblins, and other nightmarish creatures, although her knowledge of events was a significant advantage. With a little luck, she would make herself useful to the company.
"I had to convince him to make this decision, however, and he didn't do it willingly. Don't expect a particularly warm welcome from the dwarves," warned Gandalf.
"Of course, I get that," said Eryn, disappointed that she had not been able to meet them under different circumstances.
"But don't worry too much. I'm sure you'll learn to trust each other in time."
The young woman decided to trust the magician. He was known to be a gifted seer, and many of his insights had proved to be correct.
Still, one question lingered in Eryn's mind. She was surprised that Gandalf had not asked her more about her world and what she knew, especially after talking about the book, which after all described every step of the quest, from beginning to end. She decided to be honest with him and let him know.
"Don't you have more questions for me?" she asked.
"Oh yes, I do," he laughed. "There are still a lot of points I would like to clear up. But I think we're all tired and could use a few hours of sleep before we leave in the morning."
"Speaking of which, I have nothing but these clothes with me," Eryn reminded. "I don't have anything to travel in."
" You needn't worry about that. Bilbo will pack a bag for you with everything you might need, it won't be a problem."
With that, Gandalf stood up and Eryn followed him to the door. When she realized that he was not following her, she turned around.
"Aren't you coming?" she asked.
"No, I think I will stay and enjoy this library a little longer. I'm sure Bilbo will have a room you can use. Have a good rest, Miss Beaumont."
Before turning to leave, the girl decided to show her gratitude to the wizard who had been so kind and understanding to her.
"Thank you for everything, Gandalf. And please, call me Eryn."
She left the room with a smile on her face and a slightly lighter heart as the door closed behind her. She could hardly have hoped for a better interview with Gandalf. Sure, she had learned against all odds that she had gone beyond the laws of physics to find herself in Middle Earth, but all was not lost. For starters, she had Gandalf's support and no doubt Bilbo's as well, whom she would love to get to know. Moreover, she had sensed that the wizard was not ignorant on the subject of "travel between worlds", as he had called it. They had not had the opportunity to talk about it in detail that evening but she intended to raise the subject again at the first opportunity. It was probably better that way. She was already struggling to walk straight because of exhaustion and had no desire to stay up all night to talk about such a complex subject. And who knows, with a little luck, maybe the renowned grey wizard would even be able to take her home.
In any case, the only thing she had to worry about right now was finding a bed, preferably one that fit her, and staying in it until the next day. The first step in carrying out her plan was to find Bilbo.
She didn't have to look for him very long as she came across him at the end of the hallway, a pile of clean laundry in his arms.
"Ah, Miss Eryn, there you are. I have prepared one of the rooms for you, I hope it will suit you. Luckily, I have one with a particularly large bed. Your feet shouldn't stick out too far from the bed. I would recommend putting on the pair of socks I'm leaving you though, Eru knows how fragile men's little feet are and I wouldn't want you to catch a cold. What a terrible host that would make me."
The Hobbit's good humor and loquacity amused Eryn. She could tell that he would be easy to talk to and she couldn't help but want to be his friend. His cheerfulness was infectious and made her feel good.
"... Well, here's your room," he finished when they reached the door.
Bilbo pushed it open and, mindful of his manners, let his guest enter first. He slipped in behind her and laid the pile of white linen at the foot of the bed. The bed was indeed particularly large compared to the Hobbit's small size. The thick, fluffy, pale green sheets were embroidered with several rows of flowers of all kinds and looked particularly soft and comfortable. Eryn could not help but want to forget all propriety and throw herself like a child on the bed. She did not do so, not wanting to embarrass her host, and simply gazed admiringly at the rest of the room, careful to remain polite. It was quite charming although rather simple: the wooden furniture seemed old but well maintained, covered with a beautiful varnish that made them glow in the candlelight. They were decorated with several frames of all kinds: portraits of rosy-cheeked Hobbits, still lifes, and even a very nice charcoal drawing of a Shire landscape. Eryn approached the dresser above which hung a beautiful portrait of two Hobbits looking very much in love.
"This was my parents' room," he explained, having noticed the interest of the young lady. "That explains the size of the bed. It's the best room in Bag End. I probably should have taken it after the death of my dear parents, but it was too difficult, you see... Anyway, I don't know why I'm telling you all this," he added with an embarrassed laugh, "but I hope that it will suit you."
"Yeah, it's perfect! Thanks a lot, Bilbo."
"It's only natural. In this pile, you'll find some towels and a shirt that should fit you. You'll sleep more comfortably in clean linen."
Eryn looked down at her clothes. She hadn't realized the state she was in. The pajamas she had put on before bed, which consisted of a loose cream-colored teeshirt and a pair of black leggings, were covered with dust and marks probably left by the stone floor of the wine cellar. She felt self-conscious about her appearance, especially since her long black hair was matted into a thick mass that fell down her back. She dreaded the moment when she would have to untangle it.
As she tried to run a hand through her hair, Bilbo seemed to remember something. "Oh, a comb, how could I forget? Forgive me, I'll go get it right away!"
He slipped down the hallway and disappeared into another room without giving Eryn time to react. "What an odd little man," she thought. One thing was sure, he did not lack energy.
The young woman turned around and went through the pile of laundry. She unfolded the linen shirt that Bilbo had kindly lent her and held it to her chest, judging the size. The sleeves were a bit short but wide enough to be comfortable. In any case, it was much better than risking staining the sheets with her dirty clothes.
She was about to take off her shirt and put it on when she heard a knock at the door. She opened it with a smile, expecting to see Bilbo on the other side, but it was an entirely different person who greeted her. Thorin, with his arms folded and his head held high, was critically examining the young woman's outfit and the top she held in her hand.
"I see that someone found you more suitable clothes," he said in an almost mocking tone.
Eryn's smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. The dwarf king seemed determined to make his bad mood everyone's problem, and he was doing a fine job of it.
"Did you need something?" Eryn asked in a small voice, trying to be as courteous as possible. It would take a lot of effort, but she was determined to win Thorin's approval, and that started with not being rude. Even if she wanted to.
"I merely wanted to remind you of your status in our company. You are only allowed to accompany us because of the wizard, and because I refuse to let you go now that you know our business. But I want to make one thing clear: I will keep an eye on you, and if you prove to be a danger to our quest or any of my companions, I will not hesitate to use whatever means necessary to eliminate this threat. Do you understand?" he asked in a stern voice.
"Yes, I understand," she answered immediately.
Thorin was in a terrible mood and she would not risk testing his patience tonight. At least things were clear: she was not welcome here, and she would have to be careful with her every move if she did not want to shorten considerably her stay in Middle Earth.
As Thorin nodded curtly and was about to return to the living room, she called to him in an uncertain voice. "Thorin," she began, "I know that the circumstances of my coming are far from ideal, but I thank you for the opportunity you are giving me. I can only imagine how delicate the situation is, but I am grateful to you for giving me the benefit of the doubt."
Thorin half turned towards her, watching her out of the corner of his eye with a dubious look. After his display of strength, which was intended to make her not want to try anything against him and his people, he had expected anything but gratitude. He quickly recovered from his astonishment and nodded almost imperceptibly before turning on his heels and disappearing down the corridor.
"Well," sighed Eryn. " It could have been worse."
Just as she was about to close the door, Bilbo returned with a box in his arms. He gave her a hesitant smile as he slipped into the room and she realized he had been there the whole time.
"Don't worry," he reassured her. "I, for one, am very glad you are coming with us, and I'm sure Gandalf is, too." He winked at her, and she smiled back appreciatively. It was incredibly thoughtful of him to try to cheer her up. One thing, however, made her react immediately.
"Are you going to leave with the rest of the company?" She checked, not knowing how to react to this change in the story she was used to.
"Yes, after careful consideration, I figured it couldn't hurt. Gandalf seems confident and determined that I should join you, which I must admit made my decision much easier," he finished with a laugh.
Eryn did not dwell on this unexpected event. Perhaps her presence had changed events slightly, but after all, Bilbo had only made his choice a little earlier than in the book or the movies. Since the outcome was the same, it couldn't be that bad. She would have been much more concerned if he had flatly refused to participate in the quest and had not shown up after the dwarves left.
"I brought you some toiletries. I'm afraid the bathroom is unusable at the moment, thanks to the dwarves," he quipped, "so you'll have to make do with this.
"That's more than enough, Bilbo. Thank you so much."
The Hobbit brushed off her thanks with a wave of his hand and stuck his thumbs in the straps of his pants.
"Well... I wish you a good night, Miss Eryn. Don't hesitate to come and get me if you need anything. Third door on the left, at the end of the corridor."
"Please, just call me by my first name," she insisted.
Bilbo's surprised expression told her that such a request after only a few hours since they had met was highly unusual. It had caught him off guard and she wondered if she had done the right thing in being so friendly.
"Oh... Well," he stammered, "please do the same, Miss Eryn. I mean, Eryn..." he corrected, his cheeks turning red. "Have a good night."
"You too, Bilbo."
With that, he deposited the box of toiletries in the hands of the young woman and left, carefully closing the door. This time, Eryn could not prevent a laugh from escaping from her lips.
Things hadn't started well, but Bilbo had made sure they ended on a good note. This put a smile on her face. Here, away from her friends and family, she would need a friend and confidant. After this evening, she was almost certain that the Hobbit would gladly fill that role.
As she changed and slipped under the sheets, the memory of the people she had left behind brought a pang to her heart. She had no idea what had happened back home since she left. If she was here, she must have disappeared from her world. If that was the case, how would her loved ones react? Would she be reported missing? It would break her family's heart, she was sure. And her dog, who, as usual, had been lying at her feet when she went to bed: what would happen to him?
But what she found hardest to accept was that she might never see again all those people she cared about most. If she had to give up the things that had made her who she was today, she was afraid she would never be able to get over it.
Perhaps Gandalf would have answers to her questions, and she intended to get them as soon as possible. But for now, the fatigue and dizziness that had been bothering her all evening took over and Eryn quickly fell asleep.