A hand took hold of Andrea's shoulder and shook it gently. She jerked awake, her mind ablaze with dreams already fading from memory.
"Come, Miss Chen," said Gandalf, looming over her. "It is time to depart."
Andrea uncurled from the armchair and groaned. Her body protested all movement, and her bowels ached to be emptied. She obliged them at one of the bathrooms, grimacing all the while.
The house was filled with the cool quiet of morning, watery sunlight spilling on the floor. Andrea heard quiet voices and the light clinks of metal and equipment. Shivering, she pulled her jacket close and followed Gandalf out the door.
There, standing on the road, was a group of ponies and a single horse. Andrea blinked at the myriad of nickering beasts, looking quizzically at Gandalf.
"You seemed in need of rest, my dear," the wizard said, striding down Bilbo Baggins's lovely garden path and out onto the road, staff in hand. "I took the liberty of retrieving our mounts with Gloin and Bofur."
The Dwarves milled about on the road, strapping bags and things to the ponies. Andrea kept close to Gandalf's heels, avoiding the gazes of the Dwarves. It was difficult, though, and Ori managed to flash her a smile. Andrea smiled back weakly.
Gandalf stood by the large grey horse, holding its bridle in one hand and the halter of a pony in the other. "There you are," he said, holding out the rough rope of the pony's halter. "I trust you know how to ride a pony."
Andrea did not, in fact. She'd ridden a horse all of once when she was a child, and had been mostly terrified throughout the whole experience. Squaring her shoulders, Andrea took the halter from Gandalf's hand, turning her gaze on the pony.
It was a hairy thing, a plain brown, stocky and sturdy. It looked at her with large, docile eyes, very different from the wild, semi-predatory stare of a horse. Andrea sighed heavily, holding out a hand palm up. The pony snuffled her hand and grumbled.
"A sugar cube goes a long way," said a voice from Andrea's shoulder. She didn't jump, but she did look sharply at the speaker. Kili smiled lopsidedly, holding up a small leather bag. "Give him one of these."
Dipping her fingers into the bag, Andrea drew out a sugar cube. Hesitantly, she presented it flat on her palm to the pony, which had the largest mouth to ever be in such close proximity to her fingers. The pony made a nickering sound and took the sugar cube with surprising delicacy, crunching the treat between its teeth.
The company of animals, Andrea thought, is far easier than the company of people. She pet the pony's head, unsure whether she ought to pet it as she would a dog. It didn't seem to care, so she rubbed its jaw and ears, examining the halter with her fingers. Her gaze flicked down its flank to the saddle, and the bags strapped there.
"Who're those for?" Andrea asked, nodding to the bags.
"For you, Miss Chen," said Gandalf. "I took the liberty of getting you the necessities."
Oh. "Thank you." Andrea couldn't keep the surprise from her voice; Gandalf hadn't been the most considerate of people thus far.
Andrea stepped over to the pony's side and opened the bags with one hand, the other still holding the pony's rope. There wasn't much to be found– a rolled up thing that might be a bedroll or a cloak, and a set of clothing that probably wouldn't fit well but at least had trousers. The other bag held dried food, some twine, and a small knife. The barest of necessities, though Andrea doubted she would be able to use anything else that might be found in a real adventurer's pack– she didn't even know how to start a fire.
"Let's go," said a loud voice. Andrea glanced towards it and saw Thorin, sitting astride a pony of his own. The other Dwarves began to mount their ponies.
Thorin looked over his Company. His gaze fell on Andrea for a moment before he looked away, turning his mount around and nudging it into a walk.
"Do you need help?" Kili asked, gesturing to the pony.
She probably did, but Andrea's pride balked at the thought. "No, thank you," she said, turning to her pony. It stood still and quiet as she set her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up onto the saddle successfully. It probably helped that a pony was a good deal shorter than a horse.
Kili had gone back to his own pony, leaping onto its back with more grace than Andrea. He pulled it about, flashing a smile. "Come on," he said.
Andrea had little idea how to tell a horse to stop and go, beyond those extremely faded childhood memories. After a moment's consideration, she squeezed the pony's flanks slightly with her knees. It began to walk obligingly.
The train of ponies made its way up the hill and along to the road leading from Hobbiton. It was not the one Andrea had taken coming in with Gandalf, but it was just as green and well-worn.
Andrea found herself and her pony somewhere in the middle of the train, when she had certainly been at the end of it when the journey began. She couldn't find it in her to complain, though, as Kili, Ori, and Fili made friendly conversation. She almost managed to forget that there was a living, moving creature beneath her, which could simply bolt off if it had the mind to.
"Do you think Mister Baggins will come?" Kili said to no one in particular.
"Of course he will," said Ori earnestly. "How could anyone refuse a quest like ours?"
"He won't," said Dwalin, quite loudly. "Hobbits hide in their holes like rabbits. This one is no different. You saw how he fainted." The Dwarf snorted derisively.
Dori spoke up. "I think he might. He seemed very interested."
"Are you willing to bet?" Dwalin challenged.
Dori squared his shoulders. "In fact, I am! Three silvers that the Hobbit joins us."
Then the air was full of voices, numbers, and declarations. Up at the front of the train, Thorin remained silent. Gandalf said, quite confidently, that Bilbo would be coming along. Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur said otherwise.
Kili and Fili disagreed on it vehemently, with Fili deciding that Bilbo would not be joining them, and Kili declaring otherwise simply to be contrary to his brother. Oin and Nori said that Bilbo wouldn't be coming any time soon, while Gloin said loudly that he didn't care either way. Balin could be seen murmuring quietly with Gandalf.
"And you, Miss Chen?" Fili said, turning to Andrea as though she could solve the dispute between the brothers. "What is your take? Will the Hobbit join us?"
Andrea couldn't help but smile at the two of them, each demanding silently that she agree with them. "He will come," she said– the most confident she'd sounded since she woke up on the forest floor yesterday evening. "He's got the soul of an adventurer."
Fili scoffed. "Soul, perhaps, but not the temperament."
"So what's the betting pool?" Bofur said. "Five for the Hobbit, seven against, and three undecided. The numbers?" People called out their bets, and Bofur noted them down with charcoal on a piece of smudged paper he'd pulled from god knows where. Andrea said nothing; the paper bills in her wallet were less than worthless here.
Andrea took in a lungful of cold spring air. It smelled of water and bright greenery, dirt and dew. Nothing like the dark green humidity of the jungle climates Andrea knew. She found she missed the perpetual smell of rain and petrichor.
Glancing aside, Andrea looked over the road and the forest around them. The world felt so still, and yet, so alive. She heard no cars, no traffic, no humming engines. Only birds, and the ponies, and the idle conversation of the Dwarves.
It was nice.
"Wait! Wait!"
The pony train came to a halt. Andrea pulled gently but insistently on her pony's lead, and it obliged to stop walking. Looking back, Andrea beheld a harried looking Bilbo Baggins, running down the road with a pack on his back and a set of papers flapping in his hand.
He caught up to the head of the train, passing Andrea and coming to a halt beside Balin's pony. "I signed it," he panted, handing the papers to the white-bearded Dwarf.
Balin hummed, taking out a pair of spectacles. He examined the bottom of the paper for a short time. At last, he said, "Everything seems to be in order." He folded the contract and put it away, turning a benevolent look on Bilbo. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield."
The Company hummed and chuckled in satisfaction. Bilbo smiled nervously. Up ahead, Thorin turned his pony back around and set off once more.
"Give him a pony," the Dwarf king ordered.
The Dwarven princes were quick to sweep the Hobbit up onto the back of a pony, despite Bilbo's protests. Andrea set her pony going again with a gentle nudge. After a few moments, she dared to let it quicken its pace to ride beside Bilbo's own dun pony. Thankfully, her pony was either well-trained or simply very well-tempered because it quickened when she nudged it and slowed when she pulled at it.
"Well done, Mister Baggins," said Andrea, once she'd recovered from her little venture into the unknown of pony-riding. She offered the Hobbit a small smile.
Bilbo looked at her with some surprise. "Oh, thank you! Ah…" he seemed to grasp for words.
"Andrea Chen," she said, upon remembering that she'd never properly introduced herself to Bilbo, which was a horrible mistake on her part given that Bilbo was the most polite individual she'd met in a very long time.
"How have you been caught up in all this, miss?" Bilbo asked. "I'm not sure an adventure with dragons is suited for a lady."
Andrea glanced at Thorin's back. "I'm not sure, Mister Baggins," she said quietly. "But I do know that a dragon should be the least of our worries."
They set up camp sometime in the evening after at least nine hours of riding. Andrea was sure that her thighs would never close properly again. She didn't begrudge the pony for it, though.
Andrea bent and contorted herself until she'd cracked every tendon she could manage. Feeling somewhat better, she pulled out the small bag of coins thrown her way that morning. "Your share of the winner's pot," Bofur had said without malice.
Sighing heavily, Andrea pushed the money down into the depths of her messenger bag, to be ignored until she found out how Middle-Earth's money system worked.
That first night in the wild was an unpleasant one. At the very least, Andrea was able to get herself set up with the help of Ori and Kili, who were also helping an uncertain Bilbo. The rolled-up thing turned out to be a bedroll, and with Ori's help Andrea found the best place to put it with the least amount of rocks and roots.
It wasn't as bad as that time she'd spent three days sleeping on a hardwood floor in a sleeping bag– at least dirt had a little yield to it. Andrea fell asleep instantly.
The next several days were much the same; waking up when the sun rose and making camp just before the sun set. Thorin kept their party at a reasonable pace, and they crossed the lands quickly. The hills and forests of the Shire gave way to lands less green and more yellow, but somehow no less beautiful.
They made camp around a large tree that Andrea managed to recognize as an oak. It was the biggest tree around– one of the only ones, in fact. They were beginning to leave the rolling woods of the Shire and its surroundings, exchanged for the rockier lands between Rivendell and Bree.
Andrea found herself a place at the edge of the camp, laying out her bedroll and putting her things on top of it. Then she helped Gloin and Oin get things together for a fire– pretty much the only thing she had to contribute to the company was gathering tinder and wood. She'd been learning how to start a fire from Gloin though, and had graduated from 'hopelessly bad' to 'might be able to do it with a gun to her head'.
Bombur began to make dinner, with the help of Bilbo. They talked about cooking techniques and other food-ish things while throwing the rabbits that the others had caught into a big pot. Andrea sat near enough to the fire to feel its warmth, perusing the contents of her messenger bag.
The past few days had been too emotionally and psychologically tiring for Andrea to be in need of entertainment. Now, almost a week into this venture, she found herself finally adjusting to it. Perhaps it was the exceedingly reliable schedule that they had– Andrea lived best with a daily rhythm.
There wasn't much to be found inside her bag, really: a bunch of pens, a thick B5 notebook, and an A4 sketchbook; her phone and charger, earphones, and wallet; assorted junk like old receipts and hairpins; that pouch of money that she still hadn't opened; a ragged copy of I, Robot, and…
Andrea glared at the little pouch holding her menstrual cup, as well as the multitude of emergency pads stuffed into a pocket of her bag. How long would it take to get to Erebor? Certainly more than a few months, despite how much the movies had glossed over the actual journey. Which meant she'd have to deal with the blood flows multiple times.
Shoving the pouch into the depths of her bag, Andrea put it out of her mind to deal with when the time came. Instead, she took up I, Robot. She flipped it open to a random page and drank in the technical terms that popped out at her– processing, positronic brain, artificial intelligence.
Why couldn't she have been dropped into the world of Isaac Asimov's interlocked series?
"What's that?" Kili asked as he dropped down onto the ground beside Andrea.
"A book," Andrea replied laconically. Her reply drew interest, however. Ori and Fili flocked over to examine the paperback in her hands.
"That's the smallest book I've ever seen!" Ori exclaimed. He held out a hand. "May I see it?"
Andrea gave it to the young Dwarf slowly, reluctant to part with the only piece of her world's culture she now possessed. Reading those few pages had left her struck with homesickness, putting a heavy pit in her belly.
"This is incredible," Ori said passionately. "The binding technique is familiar, but the script! It's so small and uniform! I've never seen writing like this." He looked up at Andrea. "Did you write this?"
That startled a laugh from Andrea. "Me? No, no, not me. But one of my favorite authors did. He wrote a lot of stories– fiction, not history." Did the people of Middle Earth write down anything except their history? Andrea wasn't sure.
They spent some time talking about the book. Andrea did her best to explain what robots were, though she doubted she did them justice. The three Dwarves that made up her audience didn't appear to understand much of what she was saying, but they seemed to enjoy it anyway.
Somehow, talk of robots turned into talk of Star Wars. Before she knew it, Andrea found herself regaling the tale of Star Wars: A New Hope to almost all the Dwarves of the Company, as well as a quiet Bilbo.
"Food's done!" Bombur declared.
Andrea stopped speaking mid-sentence, looking over in surprise. The sun was lower to the horizon, the sky beginning to deepen from orange to purple. "I suppose I'll finish the story tomorrow," she said, smiling hesitantly.
The group rose as one and flocked to the fire, accepting bowls with grunts and thanks. Andrea waited for the crush to recede before she stepped closer. Bombur handed her a bowl filled with warm rabbit soup. Andrea bowed her head in thanks.
When she began to step away, Balin stopped her and gave her another bowl. "Could you give this to him?" he asked, nodding to the solitary figure sitting on a boulder some meters away.
Andrea frowned. "Will he take it from me?"
"Of course he will, lass," Balin replied. "He is not so proud as to refuse good food." There was a wry twinkle in his eye that only made Andrea frown more.
Still, she picked her way through the leaves and roots of the oak tree to Thorin's boulder. He didn't look at her until she was standing right in front of him, holding out the bowl of soup.
"For you, Master Dwarf," she said quietly.
Thorin took the bowl from her carefully. "Thank you," he muttered. Andrea found herself struck suddenly with the image of Eowyn giving Aragorn a bowl of soup she'd made herself. Andrea smiled at the memory of Aragorn subtly trying to throw it away.
"What do you smile at, Miss Chen?" Thorin asked, swallowing a mouthful of soup.
Andrea took that as an invitation to sit down on the boulder beside him, with a good amount of distance between them. "Just more stories." She brought her spoon to her mouth and hummed quietly. It was very good; Bombur and Bilbo's skills combined nicely.
Silence fell between them for a time. Then, "I wish to apologize, Miss Chen." Thorin turned his face slightly to Andrea. It was hidden in shadow. She could only see his silhouette. "My conduct some days ago at the burglar's house was rude."
"But not uncalled for." He was right to refuse her, Andrea thought. She had nothing to offer– she was only a liability.
They said nothing more to one another, and ate in silence.
Andrea wondered whether Thorin would die pierced by many spears, with his nephews fallen to save him, or alone at the hand of Azog.
A/N: Thank you to Mara Gin, Ultidragonlord, and BloodyTink for your reviews, they are incredibly encouraging. Updates will now be posted once a week on Fridays (Thursdays for those in America). Please review! A few words go a long way. Thanks for reading :))