Disclaimer: The characters are fictitious and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Lord of the Rings belongs to Christopher R. Tolkien, John F.R. Tolkien, and Priscilla M.A.R. Tolkien. Any characters with names that you don't recognize as being a character from the original story, belong to "Raven" M.(Siren's Muse) and will not be used without her permission.

Author Note: Ever wondered what would happen if a woman with the knowledge of what happened in The Hobbit, came and changed everything around? How would that affect the later trilogy? How would that affect the characters? Meet Verity Andrews a 25 yr. old, unmarried, homebody who gets pushed from her world and into the dangerous quest to kill Smaug the Dragon and reclaim the treasure for the King Under the Mountain.

This story is first in a quartet which will include The Ring's Keeper, In the Darkness Bind Them, The Return of the Lady.

Writing these will take time, so please be patient and stay with me. WJ

Raven (Siren's Muse) Z

Chapter One: An Unexpected Guest to an Unexpected Party

Coffee shops are generally peaceful places. Down Paretha Av., a left at the stop sign, and two blocks down Thistle Ln. sat a small house-like building with a painted, wooden sign that was swinging in the early autumn breeze. The green paint was chipping off, but the words, The Hobbit Hole, could still be seen. It wasn't any place of consequence. It was mainly a hangout for a small writer's group and a few struggling college students. Verity swept off her coffee-stained apron and glanced around the room. It was nearly empty today. Being that it was soon to close, it was probably a good thing. She hung her apron on the small peg in the wall and stepped out from behind the counter. The few straggling customers left quickly and Verity locked the door behind them. With a sigh, she turned to a corner table and picked up her purse and keys. She left the back way and walked down the old street to her small house. After checking the mailbox to find that it was empty, she unlocked her door and walked in. It was a night like any other in her ordinary life. Not that she minded. She was quite comfortable with the way she lived. She loved her work at the coffeehouse, enjoyed the company of several friends, and worked on her novel late at night. All in all it was the kind of existence of the hobbits in Tolkien's books. Quiet, unadventurous, and peaceful. She made dinner and sat down at her one chair-ed little table with her favorite book, The Hobbit. It had been a favorite since her childhood so very long ago. Perhaps it appealed to because she could relate wonderfully to poor little Bilbo. Whatever the case, she had picked it up yet again and was just starting it for the thousandth time. Gandalf had tea with Bilbo and had just carved the unusual symbol on his door. Bilbo went about his life, hardly knowing of the adventures he was about to face. Which, ironically, was exactly what happened to Verity.

"Goodnight world." was the ritual saying every night before bed.

Always a creature of habit, she shifted to her right side and fell immediately asleep. Verity dreamed. It was hardly a normal dream. It was one in which she was walking down a dirt pathway up a winding little hill. She was dressed in her common khakis, white tank, and dark green cardigan, her exceptionally long dark tresses were tied back as normal. But she was trotting around barefoot for whatever reason. She came to a stout, round, green door. The funny symbol in the middle was the first thing to catch her eye. Just like Bilbo's front door. Realized, she, with a grin.

Like in most dreams, the dreamer become curious. She rapped lightly on the door and a odd little voice called back. "Coming!"

The door was flung open and it was hard to tell what happened first. Verity will argue that it was Bilbo who first gasped and stifled a cry. Bilbo claimed that it happened at the same time. Whatever the case, both gasped, cried out, and began talking at once. "Who are you?"

"Bilbo?"

"A big person!"

"Like in The Hobbit."

"How do you know my name?"

"What a funny little dream!"

"Dream? Goodness gracious, she's a crazy one!"

"Who's there, Bilbo?" asked gruff voice from behind.

A blue-bearded dwarf wrestled his way around the stunned hobbit. "Great mines of Moria! A daughter of Men!" proclaimed the dwarf.

"Dwalin!" Verity remembered, thanking her excellent memory.

"Greeting Lady. How do you know my name?"

"How does she know mine?" Bilbo asked, quite frustrated, to say the least.

"I really must be dreaming." she pinched herself and winced.

"Whatever was that for?" asked Dwalin.

"I thought I was dreaming, silly old test is to pinch oneself." she explained, starting to feel quite at ease with the situation, which was odd indeed.

"Really? That's interesting. So we are in your dream?"

"I'm not sure I dreaming anymore."

They would have kept going, but Bilbo interrupted with a rather loud, "Please come in and have some tea!"

Verity was ushered in and sat down at a very small table. "What is your name, Lady?"

"Verity Andrews"

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Verity."

The whole "Lady" title was so odd that Verity began laughing. "I must have spiked my coffee accidentally. I'm going insane."

"So am I." muttered Bilbo.

The afternoon passed as each of the dwarves made their appearance at the door. The dwarves were quite impressed with the presence of the human woman, but Bilbo care little. He was annoyed. And rightfully so. When Gandalf came, he nearly blew a gasket. He yelled something to the effect of, "What's going on here?", but Gandalf didn't hear, he was staring at the woman. Verity was currently in conversation with Filli, having totally fallen in love with almost all the dwarves (save Thorin, who she thought to be too great for his own good.) and had easy begun conversations with them. Mostly concerning dreams. For while deep in her heart, Verity knew that something was amiss, she claimed that it was a pleasant dream and she wished to spike her coffee more often to have this caliber of dream. "Woman! Who are you?" Thundered the voice of Gandalf, breaking Filli off, mid-sentence.

Verity froze. Reality came rushing in. The room became stiflingly hot, the kettle was whistling too loudly...someone's breathing was too loud. She slowly turned to face the wizard. She hadn't quite pictured him this tall, even bending over in the hobbit hole, he towered over her, and Verity was not a short woman. "Verity." she answered quickly.

"Where do you come from?"

"Earth, the U.S.A., Texas, San Antonio...do I need to go on?" it wasn't said disrespectfully, rather very respectfully for she did not want to anger him any further.

"How did you come here."

"I'm dreaming." she answered, more to herself than to him. "I must be. This is insane. I've been alone for far to long. I'll by a cat. That's it. A cat to keep me company. All I need is a companion. Maybe I'll move back in with mother. Maybe I'll marry the first customer I serve tomorrow. Provided it's a male customer under the age of thirty-five. And providing he doesn't mind marrying an 25 yr. old, old maid." she rambled and she might have continued, but she fainted.

She dreamed in her dream. She dreamed of her coffee shop. A man came in to order a regular coffee, she looked up to see that he was tall with pointed ears. He was speaking to her in another language. Elvish, she assumed. Something about her odd clothes. I do not dress oddly. Granted cardigans aren't the height of fashion, but they certainly aren't odd.

He was muttering now about her hair. It was long. She knew it. Her mother always told her to cut it, but she finally had grown it past her hips and she was loathe to cut it. Someone ran its dark waves over their fingers. The touch was gentle. Words were soothing. Awaken.

"Is she quite alright? I'm dreadfully sorry for being such a poor host. If I had known she would faint, I would have offered her a better chair." it was Bilbo's voice.

"You are a fine host Master Burglar." proclaimed a Dwarven voice.

"Blast it all elf! Why doesn't she wake up?" asked another dwarf, it sounded like Filli, or maybe Killi.

"Patience." uttered the most glorious voice she'd ever heard.

Verity had to see the owner of the voice. It called to her. Awaken.

Her moaned softly and reality flooded in. She opened her eyes to the light and squinted them. It was too bright. She moaned again. Her head was pounding like someone was playing the kettle drums inside it. "Oh bother! This is going to put us behind schedule." complained Thorin.

Verity's eyes slowly adjusted to the light and she blinked once more to see thirteen dwarves, one hobbit, and the most wonderful elf (and the only elf) she had ever seen, all standing around the tiny bed she was curled up in, looking quite worried. Well, with the exceptions of Thorin and the elf. Thorin looked slightly peeved while the elf had a look that she couldn't quite read. "Lady Verity! We were terribly worried!" Killi admitted. "Are you feeling any better."

"Ye--" she was about to lie, since she felt perfectly awful, but the throbbing of her prompted a wince which did not go unnoticed by any of the company standing around the bed.

"What did you do to her, elf?" asked Balin angrily.

The elf looked nonplussed by the accusation, although, Verity though she could detect a bit of annoyance in his beautiful grey-blue eyes. He simply reached for a mug and held it to her lips. Verity was shamed to admit, later, that she had drunk quite greedily from the flask which resulted in her tremendous coughing fit. The dwarves looked horribly scared for her, sure that she was on her deathbed, the elf continued to look expressionless. "Don't you ever smile?" Verity found herself asking aloud, between rasping coughs.

The elf didn't answer, but Verity could have sworn that a ghost of a smile passed over his perfect, angular features. Some time later, after her coughing fit and after the elf assured the dwarves that she wasn't dying, Verity found herself alone, wrapped in blankets and staring out the window. The view was wonderful. A rolling countryside without a care in the world. The distant laughing of children could be heard. It reminded her of home. Home. "How in the world did I get here?" she asked aloud.

"That, is what I'd like to find out." came Gandalf's voice from the door.

"Look, Gandalf. I hardly know myself. This is insane to say the least. The last thing I remember was falling asleep at my own house, in my own bed."

"You say you come from San Antonio. I don't know of this place."

"You wouldn't. It's on a planet called Earth." she sighed. "You're an all powerful wizard. Can't you figure anything out?"
"How did you know my name."

Only then did Verity feel the worry creeping up inside her. How could she tell them about the book? An explanation formed in her mind. "In my world there was a great man named Tolkien who chronicled the history and stories of Middle Earth."

"They know of us?"

"Yes."

She couldn't possibly tell him about the movie, the hype, the fan fics...he wouldn't understand. Gandalf was frowning as he left. She got the idea that he didn't trust her.

The expedition to the Lonely Mountain was postponed as Gandalf and Thorin tried to make sense of this new twist. Verity didn't mind the delay, or the whispering of her name behind her back. The more they tried to figure it out, the sooner she had an explanation. And besides that, the countryside was gorgeous. The only drawback was the constant watch of the elf who had come during her time of fainting. He seemed to always be behind her. Whatever it was she was doing. Whether it be sitting out under a tree watching the hobbit children, or reading one of Bilbo's books by the fire. Finally she got the courage to confront her constant shadow one day, while washing dishes for Bilbo. "Why are you following me?" she asked, not bothering to turn around, since she knew he was there.

The elf didn't answer. "What's your name?" she asked, finally turning around and facing him. "Glorfindel." answered he.

"Gandalf doesn't trust me, does he? He believe me to be a threat. Can't say I blame him. I mean, I would wonder too if some odd-looking person wandered in and fainted."

"It is not the fact that Mithrandir distrusts you, rather that he does not know what to think of you."

"What do you think of me?" it came out before she could stop it.

"I do not know my Lady."

"Call me Verity, will you. If you're going to follow me, you might as well know what I like to be called. On another note, why did they send for you...oh wait. I know why."

"This Tolkien also chronicled my life?"

"Yep."

The elf looked interested. "Had he ever been to Middle Earth?"

"Hard to say. But he knew it as well as if he had created it himself."

"The Valar created what you call, "Middle Earth"." His answer was automatic.

"Oh yes, those "all-powerful" beings." she had never much liked them.

The look on Glorfindel's face was one of pure horror and Verity knew she had spoken Middle Earth blasphemy. "The Valar are kind and powerful. Do not speak of them so flippantly."

"Well," said she, indignantly, "They left you to die didn't they? They didn't save you when you fought the Balrog, did they? And they couldn't let you die peacefully. That doesn't sound very kind to me."

She was immediately sorry of her quick words. Such sorrow could be seen in those brilliant grey-blue eyes. "I'm sorry. Really, I speak before I think."

She wanted to give him some sort of hope for being alive and though she was reluctant to give any information, she decided to tell him a little of what she knew. "You have purpose in living." she said in her quiet, declaiming voice. "You will save another from certain death and will help bring about the destruction of evil."

She glanced up at him. There was a sort of awed wonder in his eyes...unfortunately it carried a touch of suspicion. "How do you know?"

How could she tell him? The answer sprang to her lips. "I just know."

"A seer?"

"You could say that...look, I really am sorry about the Valar thing."

A theological discussion about all-powerful beings was not something she wanted to get into right now. Unfortunately, he did not feel the same way. "It is true, I died only to live again. And I oft question why. Why it was me who was chosen to be taken from the glory of peace. However, that is not cause enough to warrant distrust in the powers of beings far greater than I."

"True, they did sing the world into being, but that doesn't give them worship rights. They were beings who lived and loved like you."

Verity was a devout Christian and the concept of multiple "gods" who loved and lived and were worshiped, was a disturbing one to her. She'd always assumed that Tolkien, though he himself was a believer, did this because of pure mythological reasons. Due to the reasons for giving England its own mythology. But to be in a world where they actually believed that was very disturbing indeed. "How can one not praise the songs of the Ainur? They gave us life."

"Sure, I can see praising Eru (Ilúvatar), but the Ainur were his creation, just like you. A creation hardly deserves worship from another creation."

"They were created for worship." he stated simply.

"Hardly. They were created to worship Ilúvatar. Not for you to worship. And anyway, wasn't it the Ainur, Melkor who brought the evil?"

"The Ainur were given free will to choose."

"Just like you....hmmm...ring any bells?"

Glorfindel glared at her, but didn't answer. Verity spoke again, knowing that with every word she was breaking down his beliefs and wondered how it would be to have someone come and break down everything you thought to be true. Her tone became more gentle. "I'm sorry. I assume it must be awful to have someone come and break down everything you believe to be true. Believe me when I say that in my world, people try to do that every day. Luckily for me, what I know is truth. And the truth sets me free."

"The truth kills, Lady Verity."

"Yes, sometimes it does, but not all the time."

She sighed. "I really am sorry."

"Sorry that you question what I know to be truth with your every word, snake?"

Good, sweet Lord in Heaven above! A curse from an elf! He must really hate me! A sadness unlike anything she'd every known, crept into her heart. She honestly desired his friendship, not his curses. "Yes, terribly sorry, with all my heart I am sorry that it had to be me."

She turned back to the dishes, the victory of being right was overshadowed by his curse. She heard his quiet steps as he left the room and sighed, wondering again why she was here.