The door opens and a tall black haired dwarf stood in the doorway. I couldn't tell if he was trying to look majestic or if he was just a natural. Either way, he was probably high up on the food chain. He was dressed in furs and a cloak which only kind of hid his weapons.

"Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door." Wow, the dwarf had a baritone, I shouldn't really be surprised after the twelve others I've met tonight. He and Gandalf were friends or friendly acquaintances as the dwarf raised an amused eyebrow and his deep voice was light and teasing.

"Mark?" Bilbo asked, he took a few steps toward the door as if to check for himself then thought better of it.

"Hold up, there's no mark on that door. I painted that myself, no less than a week ago." I argued stepping out in front of the dwarves and next to Bilbo.

"There is a mark on that door, I put it there myself," Gandalf informed us almost sounding embarrassed.

"That's vandalism," I told him, grumpy. I had been really proud of how that door turned out.

"Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf waves a hand toward the dwarf who raised a regal eyebrow and gives Bilbo a slow once over and not in a good way.

"So...this is the Hobbit. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" He asked condescendingly, then strutted into the smial like he owned the place. My opinion on him dropped, like a rock thrown off the top of the empire state building.

"Pardon me?" Bilbo blinked, confused by the irrelevant question. The dwarf turned to Bilbo, towering over the poor hobbit.

"Ax or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" Thorin continued in a stared down his nose at Bilbo.

Bilbo puffed out his chest and tried to seem confident. "Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know…" He lost all his bravo and quietly continued. "...but I fail to see why that's relevant."

The dwarf humphs and turns slightly towards the others. "Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." There was laughter from the group of dwarves behind him.

Ah hell no, that's my hobbit you're trying to insult. I stepped out in front of Bilbo and stared down at the rude dwarf. My eyebrows drew down in my anger.

"Wooooow," I drawled out sarcastically. "Award for the most polite house guest, right here. Whoever taught you manners, obviously failed," I pushed my lips together. "That stuff may be all right where you're from," I scrunched up my nose. "But they're polite folk here."

"Razena-" Bilbo tried to scold me, even if it was half-heartedly.

"Yeah, I'm being really rude, but I'm not sorry Bilbo. You don't deserve to be treated like this." I stand there as tall as I could. Glaring at the especially rude one, I would not break eye contact first. We stared at each other neither wanting to back down. I couldn't tell you how long it was before he let out a huff and stalked away. The rest of the dwarves stare at me for a moment longer, I stared right back. They dispersed soon after. I took a few calming breaths before patting Bilbo on the back smiling fondly at him. I walked slowly to the dining room and leaning against the wall. Right behind Dwalin and Bifur who just glanced back at me.


Thorin had, somehow, managed to find some uneaten food and was eating it at the head of the table.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Balin asked Thorin.

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms." He confirmed eating some of the soup I didn't even know we had.

"And what did the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" Dwalin asked staring at Thorin. The stared for a few seconds before Thorin shook his head.

"They will not come," Thorin announced gravely. "They say this quest is ours and ours alone."

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo questions, drawing their solemn gases to him.

"Sound like something from a video game," I muttered. "What's the boss, a dragon?" I asked sarcastically under my breath. Gandalf, Dwalin and Bifur heard my snarky comment and looked back at me funny.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light," Gandalf said peering over his shoulder at him. Bilbo was quick to fetch a candle. Holding the light over the map Gandalf was holding. "Far to the east...over ranges and rivers...beyond woodlands and wastelands...lies a single, solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain." Bilbo read slowly looking over Gandalf, and Thorin's shoulder. I leaned over Dwalin and Bifurs shoulder to get a better look at the yellowed piece of parchment.

"Aye, Oin has read the portents...and the portents say it is time," Gloin says, multiple dwarves roll their eyes, groan or look away annoyed.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold," Oin leans forward backing up his brother claims. "When the birds of yore return to Erebor...the reign of the beast will end." He adds ominously.

"Uh, what beast?" "Beast?" Bilbo and I ask at the same time. Bilbo was alarmed, I was just more curious.

"That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible," Bofur informs excitedly. "chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals."

"Yes, I know what a dragon is," Bilbo said annoyed.

"Wait! Dragons actually exist?!" I turned and pointed at Bilbo accusingly. "Why didn't you tell me? Wow," The atmosphere of the room changed, I knew I had said something wrong from the dark looks on some of the dwarves faces. I glanced at Bilbo confused but he just shrugged.

"They're dangerous, lass," Balin warned, seriously.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they're not cool," I pointed at him. This got me some confused looks from the dwarves. Oops, forgot cool was slang. Everything was awkward until Ori abruptly stood up.

"I'm not afraid. I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!" He announced loudly, looking around for approval. Many seated at the table chuckled, the oppressive mood gone. I shot Ori a grateful look.

"Good lad, Ori!" someone cried, and there were murmurs and laughs around the table.

"Sit down." Dori pulls him down, scolding. Ori looks away from his brother gave me a small smile back.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us…" Balin dragged the conversation back on topic. "but we number just 13. And not 13 of the best...nor brightest."

Ohhhhh, that burn was as hot as dragon fire.

"Here, who are you calling dim?" Nori asks offended. There were many who shared the same sentiment as him and were not hesitant to voice it.

"Sorry, what did he say?" Oin asks holding up his ear trumpet.

"We may be few in number…" Fili began seriously, leaning forward with his fist on the table. "but we're fighters, all of us, to the last Dwarf." His voice changed to a more inspiring tone.

"And you forget, we have a Wizard in our company." Kili leans forward. "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Kili continues in the same upbeat tone.

"Oh, well, no. I wouldn't say…" Gandalf stutters awkwardly. I latch onto this laughing in my head. He definitely hasn't killed any dragons.

"Yeah, Gandalf," I asked, with a little mocking slipping into my voice. "How many?" Gandalf glares at me catching onto my tone. I smirk back. That's for the door.

"How many, then?" Dori asked staring expectantly at him missing the mocking in my question.

"What?" Gandalf's pulled away from our staring contest. Turning back to the table and facing Dori.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on. Give us a number," Dori insists. Gandalf doesn't answer, just puffs at his pipe quickly. The dwarves get riled up at his 'answer' and loud arguing breaks out.

"Excuse me. Please." Bilbo tries and fails to gain their attention. Thorin stands up, his chair scraping against Bilbo's floor as it was shoved backward. He shouts something at them in their language, it almost sounded like shut up. They all immediately quiet down, and stare intently at Thorin, waiting.

"If we have read these signs...do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing... ...wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" He finishes his speech, shouting more words in their language. The dwarves cheer standing up around the table while Thorin shouts the same phrase over and over. I press myself against the wall as Bifur gets a little too wild.

"You forget, the Front Gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain." Balin reminded then. The group settled down with the reminder. Balin seems like the realistic one of the group.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf holds up a silver key. It's a large key, with a large barrel. An almost diamond-like shape at the handle with triangles one near the barrel the other directly across from it. The end that you put into the lock had a chain look. One square was flat with the rest of the key, the other the complete another way. It was the...oddest looking key I had ever seen. I was having a hard time believing it actually opened something.

"That is one kick-ass looking key," I mutter leaning forward to get a better look.

"How come you by this?" Thorin asked alternating staring at the key and Gandalf in awe.

"It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now." Gandalf handed the key ceremoniously over the Thorin.

"If there is a key...there must be a door." Fili pointed out. I rolled my eyes.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the Lower Halls," Gandalf informs pointing out some runes in the corner of the map still unfolded on the table.

"There's another way in," Kili said excitedly. A puppy, that one.

"Well, if we can find it," Gandalf agrees. "but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed."

Whose bright idea was that?

"The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map…" Gandalf gestured with his pipe "and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can."

You can't read it? Such incompetence from the great Gandalf. Alright, maybe I was still a tinsy, tiny little bit sore from the defacing of the door I worked so hard on.

"The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth...and no small amount of courage." He glanced around the table. "But if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar." Ori realized looking up at Bilbo, who was watching the proceedings from behind Thorin.

"Hmm. And a good one too. An expert, I'd imagine." Bilbo says obviously hooking his thumbs in his suspenders. I slap my forehead having realized why they were in our house.

"And are you?" Gloin asked his eyes narrowed.

"Am I what?" Bilbo question still in the dark.

"Bilbo? A burglar?" I laughed drawing their attention to me. "He's never stolen a thing in his life!"

"She said he's an expert. Hey!" Oin celebrates. I looked at him confused. Where did he get that from?

"Me? No. No, no, no. I'm not a burglar. Rezena's right, I've never stolen a thing in my life." Bilbo shakes his head and is quick to agree with me.

"Well, I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins and lady Razena. He's hardly burglar material." Balin confesses

"Yes," Bilbo agrees, nodding.

"Aye, the Wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin agreed with Balin and Bilbo, glancing at Bilbo then at me.

"Hey, I can fend for myself," I objected, looking down on him offended. He crosses his arms and huffed at me in disbelief.

"I can survive on my own," I insisted. "Bilbo, on the other hand, can not."

"Enough!" Gandalf yells sharply as he stands, and this threatening presence fills the room. Gandalf seems to suck in the light around him like a black hole. His stance was less threatening than he probably intended as he had to stoop as much as I did. It wasn't ineffective as all attention was on him. Everyone terrified into silence. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is," He paused calming down, the light returning. Everyone was still frozen at this point from surprise. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And, while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf...the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him...which gives us a distinct advantage." He turned to Thorin, who was one of the first to have collected themselves. "You asked me to find the 14th member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. And I'm sure if one goes we shall have the other. There's a lot more to them than appearances suggest. Lady Razena, I'm sure would be a lovely addition. They've got a great deal more to offer than any of you know. Including Bilbo, himself. You must trust me on this." Gandalf and Thorin stare at each other for a few seconds.

"Very well," Thorin gives in. "We will do it your way." A self-satisfied grin grows across Gandalf's face as he sits back down.

"No, no." Bilbo protests waving his hands, trying to get them to listen to him. I'd help if I'd thought they'd listen. It's not like he has to sign anything.

"Give him the contract." Thorin orders Balin.

"We're in. We're off." Balin says, standing and pulling the contract form his pocket. "It's just the usual. Summary of out-of-pocket expenses...time required, remuneration...funeral arrangements, so forth."

"Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo exclaims voice wavering.

"If I die," I start, having my funeral planned out already.

"Who says you're going?" Dwalin demanded, staring me in the eyes.

"Who says I'm not?" I challenged raising my chin and my eyebrows.

"I say your not!" Bilbo exclaimed, looking up from the contract.

"But Bilbooo!" I whine drawing out his name. He huffs then goes back to reading the contract.

Thoron turns to Gandalf and speaks quieter "I cannot guarantee their safety."

"Understood." Gandalf nods and replies after a few seconds

"Nor will I be responsible for their fate," Thorin tells him through gritted teeth. Thorin catches me staring, I didn't pretend like I wasn't listening in. I just pursed my lips.

Behind them slightly louder, I hear Bilbo mumbling the contract to himself.

"Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one-fourteenth of total profit, if any." He nods and tilts his head "Hmm. Seems fair. Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by...or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to lacerations...evisceration... Incineration?" he says each word with growing disbelief. Bilbo glances back at the dwarves with confusion, curiosity and the slightest bit of horror.

"Aye." Bofur begins cheerily, "He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bilbo blinks back at him unsettled by the mental picture.

"That's some hot fire," I turn to Bofur, impressed with the dragon.

"That's what you focus on?" Bilbo's eyebrows reach for his hairline in disbelief.

"What?" I ask defensively. "Do you know how long it takes to burn a human with regular fire? Longer than a second, I guarantee you."

"Really?" someone asked curiously.

I shrugged. "I heard it somewhere. I also heard that you better hope that you suffocate from the smoke because being burned alive is hell."

"You all right, laddie?" Balin draws our attention back to Bilbo, who wasn't doing so well with our current topic of conversation.

Bilbo leans down, hands on his knees and starts breathing quicker, his eyes shining with panic. "Huh? Yeah. Feel a bit faint."

"Think furnace with wings." Bofur starts back again. I gave him a warning glare.

"Air. I need air." Bilbo took a deep breath a held it trying to stay conscious.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof. You're nothing more than a pile of ash." Bofur ignored my warning glance and continued to torture poor Bilbo. Bilbo stood straight as he had seemingly managed to pull himself together.

"Hmm. Nope." Then he passed out. I rushed over and just caught him before he hit the ground. I grunted as I caught him, quickly trying to keep my balance as I had misjudged how heavy he was.

"Time to cut back on the biscuits, Bilbo," I joked picking him up bridal style. Bofur, the one who caused all the trouble in the first place had gotten up to help me. I raised my eyebrow at him. He quickly sat back down clearing his throat. I made my way to Bilbo's favorite armchair and gently set him down. I built the fire back up in the fireplace and sighed, cursing Bofur in my mind.


"I'll be alright. Just let me sit quietly for a moment." Bilbo told us, now awake, sitting in his armchair with a warm cup of tea in his hands. I was on the floor, sitting with my back to the fire. We were both looking up at Gandalf who towered above our sitting forms.

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long," Gandalf lectured him. "Tell me, when did doilies and your mother's dishes…...become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who was always running off in search of Elves in the woods. Who would stay out late, come home after dark...trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young Hobbit who would have liked nothing better...than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there." Gandalf gestured with his pipe to a nearby stained glass window.

"I can't just go running off into the blue. I am a Baggins," Bilbo paused. "of Bag-end." Bilbo reminded him gesturing to the walls.

"You are also a Took." Gandalf paused and Bilbo dropped his head into his hands, groaning in irritation. Gandalf gestured to a painting of one of Bilbo's relatives. "Did you know that your great-great-great-great-uncle Bullroarer Took...was so large, he could ride a real horse?"

"Yes." Bilbo sighed, sounding done with the story which I'd guess by his tone he'd heard a thousand times.

"Yes, well, he could." Gandalf paused staring thoughtfully. "In the Battle of Green Fields, he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard, it knocked the Goblin king's head clean off...and it sailed 100 yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus, the battle was won. And the game of golf invented at the same time." He chuckled a bit at the end.

"I do believe you made that up." Bilbo pointed out

"Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back."

"Can you promise that I will come back?" Bilbo questioned looking up at Gandalf. His hands clenched tightly around his mug.

Gandalf sighed and leaned heavily on his staff. "No. And if you do… ...you will not be the same."

"But that's just life," I slouched, staring into the fire. Watching the flames dance as they ate the wood. "No one's promised a tomorrow. Anything could happen at any time, that could change a person too. The difference here is one's expected the others unexpected. You really just have to ask yourself, how do I wanna go?" I look up at them and laugh a little. "Sorry."

Bilbo shook his head. "That's what I thought. Sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign this." Bilbo sat his mug down and stood up. "You've got the wrong Hobbit." I watched him go, walking down the hall with measured steps. I glanced up at Gandalf who was staring after him with disappointment.

"He'll think about it," I stood. "And rethink and rethink, but I think... that eventually, he'll go. You're right Bilbo does long for adventure, deep down."

"And you my lady?"

"I'll go where Bilbo goes. It's not like I don't want to help them, but really, It just sounds like they want their gold back, and to me that's not worth Bilbos life."

"It's not so much their gold, my dear, and where that gold is located,"

"The mountain?" I tilt my head, shifting to face him completely.

He nods "Their home, it was taken from them by the dragon, Smaug. They've been left homeless ever since."

"That's awful, but there's just one thing I don't understand. Why a burglar? Why not someone who could kill the dragon?"

"Well," he puffed his pipe delaying answering my question. I narrow my eyes and almost press it but then a humming caught my attention. I left Gandalf to find the source. I stopped just outside of the room where all of the dwarves had gathered. Leaning behind the pillar of the opening.

"Far over the misty mountains cold," The voice singing it was deep and quiet.

"To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away 'Ere break of day

to seek the pale enchanted gold" I could hear movement in the room. I slid down the wall and leaned my head back eyes closed. Listening.

"The dwarves of yore made mighty spells," Others joined in, singing in the same low, sorrowful tones.

"While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold; where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

To find our long-forgotten gold

The pines were roaring on the height

the winds were moaning in the night

the fire was red it flaming spread

the trees like torches blazed with light." It was a beautiful song, sad, but beautiful. The pictures were painted so vividly in my mind, like a movie.

"The bells were ringing in the dale
And men they looked up with faces pale;
The dragon's ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.
The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall

Beneath his feet, beneath the moon." A tear rolled down my face at the thought of all the people dead.

"Far over the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old…" I got up a few minutes after it ended, and headed back to my room. I passed Bilbo's on the way. His door was slightly cracked, we made eye contact, then nodded at each other, decisions made.


I knelt down and pulled out my old gear and set it near my dresser. I fell asleep in my bed, for what I hoped wasn't the last time.


the extended version of the misty mountain song cover by Clamavi De Profundis on youtube if you wanna listen, it's really good. (Not mine neither is anything Middle-Earth related) I'm sorry this took so long.