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Chapter Three

Ashburne and Company

Alison woke with a start for the second time that day, blinking rapidly until the blurriness cleared from her vision.

She sat up quickly when she realized she was in a bed that was almost too small for her; her feet dangled off the edge with her ratty Converse still on, but the mattress was comfortable, and the room she was in was cozy and cheerful, the late afternoon sun streaming in through the round window and making the yellow wallpaper glow.

Her backpack had been placed next to the bed, and she swung it over her shoulders, some of the tension leaving her body as it settled against her back. It was one of the only things she had left from her home in this strange place, though her heart sank when she realized that her little jaunt with Gandalf had not been a bad dream, but her new reality.

She got up and crossed over to the window, looking out upon the village square and seeing hobbits packing up for the day. Dusk was drawing near, and she sighed; she had been out nearly half the day, and now embarrassment mingled with her apprehension, making her stomach churn. She hoped Gandalf wouldn't mention anything about her fainting spell; she had never passed out before, and she really didn't want to be reminded of it, ever.

At the reminder of Gandalf, she turned away from the window and looked to the door of the room. She assumed she was still in The Green Dragon, but where had the wizard run off to? A flare of panic went through her when she thought that he had bolted and left her to survive on her own in this new world, but she squashed the feeling down. Gandalf wouldn't have left her behind.

Would he?

This prompted her to start for the door, but before she could grab the knob it had swung open, revealing Gandalf himself, his body taking up the entirety of the doorway.

"Miss Ashburne," he said, pleasantly surprised. "It's good to see you awake at last; I was just coming to check on you."

"Where were you?" she demanded, backing up and allowing him space to enter the room. "You can't just leave me alone here; I don't know what this place is like!"

"You were perfectly safe, I assure you," the wizard said, grunting as he entered the room, his head brushing the ceiling despite the absence of his hat. "The Shire is not a dangerous place—quite the opposite, in fact."

"Well, I didn't know that," she said, crossing her arms and taking a seat on the bed, glaring up at the wizard. "You could've left a note or something."

"I apologize, Miss Ashburne, truly," he said. "However, I could not delay my preparations any longer."

"What preparations?"

"Firstly, to visit a very old friend." He frowned. "Or, at least, I thought so." He shook his head. "To think I should have lived to be "good morning'd" by Belladonna Took's son as if I were selling buttons at the door! Never in my life would I have imagined it…"

Alison waited for him to stop grumbling to himself about "fireworks" and "good mornings," though she felt that she should know who Gandalf was talking about.

"Secondly, I had to leave a mark for the others to find before making some last-minute purchases for the road ahead."

"Wait…" Alison said, a faint memory stirring within her mind. "You said you had to leave a mark? Where?"

Gandalf looked at her as if she should know this already. "On Bilbo Baggins's front door, of course. The dwarves have to find their way to Bag End somehow."

Alison froze.

"You mean the dwarves are coming today?" she squeaked. "Like, right now?"

"Give or take a few hours," he said, shrugging. "Why? Is there something wrong?"

Finding herself stranded in Middle-earth was one thing, Alison decided. Discovering that she had been chosen to go on the Quest for Erebor with Thorin Oakenshield and his Company was frightening news, but something she could've handled in time. But learning that she had been chucked headfirst into the beginning of the story, with no preparation and no time, was something else entirely.

"There's been a mistake," she said, faint. "Gandalf, I'm not the one that the Valar need for this quest."

"You are an Ashburne," he said, his brows furrowing. "Of course, the Valar need you. You are the only one equipped to handle this task."

Alison's breathing turned shallow.

"I'm not a warrior, or a—a Hero. I haven't even graduated high school yet! And now I'm expected to go on some quest that shouldn't even be real?" She shook her head wildly. "I can't do this, Gandalf, I'm sorry."

"But you must," he said, kneeling before her and searching her eyes intently. "For all our sakes, Miss Ashburne, you must."

"Why?" she snapped. "What do the Valar want from me? What do they need that they can't do themselves?"

Gandalf hesitated before saying, "Miss Ashburne, you told me that you had read this story before in your world." She nodded warily. "Now, tell me; how does the story end?"

"The dragon is killed," she said haltingly, struggling to recall. "And there's a battle, and Thorin dies—"

She choked on her next words, the realization hitting her with sickening clarity.

"They want me to change the ending," she said. "Thorin, Fíli, Kíli—the Valar want me to save them."

Gandalf nodded solemnly.

"You know the fate that awaits Thorin Oakenshield and his two nephews at the end of this journey," he said. "The story you know is but one ending out of a thousand possibilities, and it seems the Valar want you to find one of those possibilities."

"No," she said, her eyes beginning to blur with tears. "No, Gandalf. I'm not letting you put three lives into my hands. I won't do it."

"The Valar chose you for a reason, Miss Ashburne," he said, his eyes blue fire despite his gentle voice. "You are a Hero, whether you believe it or not. Failure means the unraveling of everything we know, in this world and your own. It is daunting, I understand, but there is no going back now, not until the Oath is fulfilled. And if you wish to return to your family and home once your task has been completed, then you must learn to be strong."

A knock on the door made Alison jump so violently she nearly toppled off the bed, but Gandalf patted her knee kindly before stooping to open the door.

"Mr. Gandalf, sir, your, er…companions have arrived," said the hobbit woman who had served them earlier. "They're stabling their ponies now."

"Wonderful, thank you, Esmerelda," he said, and the hobbit woman curtsied, sneaking a curious glance at Alison before swiftly departing.

Alison was staring at the wizard when he turned back around.

"I take it the dwarves are here?" she said, her voice scratchy from suppressed tears, and he nodded.

"You may remain here until the time comes for us to depart if you wish to compose yourself," he said, but she shook her head.

"Not like I have much choice in the matter," she said pointedly.

"Very well," he said, gesturing to the hallway beyond. "Let us greet our companions, then, shall we?" He turned for the door but suddenly hesitated. "Oh, I almost forgot. I purchased these for you while you were, ah, indisposed."

He handed her a large parcel wrapped in brown paper that had been sitting on a chair by the door. She opened it cautiously, finding a thick, heavy, forest green coat lined with brown fur, with a pair of matching brown trousers and an undershirt, woolen socks, and leather gloves. She also noticed a pair of sturdy walking boots that laced up to her knees sitting beside the door, and her gut spasmed uncomfortably.

"It was difficult finding your size, but I believe I managed it," he continued, not noticing her discomfort. "Do let me know if nothing fits, though. When you're ready, we will go downstairs together."

Before she could protest, he swept out the door, shutting it behind him and leaving her with no option except to get dressed in her new attire. She was angry at having to change, but she could understand the wizard's intent, which only annoyed her more. By making her fit into Middle-earth, it was like slapping a pair of shackles on her wrists, binding her to her new prison.

She put the undershirt on over her black tank top before tugging off her shorts. Gandalf apparently hadn't deemed it necessary to purchase her any underwear, leaving her to keep on her current ones, though she paused before putting on the new pants.

She unzipped her backpack and found to her delight that her jeans were folded neatly at the top. As a small rebellion against the wizard, she put those on instead, throwing the new pants inside along with her Converse. As much as she wanted to wear them, they were not the most practical shoe for her situation, so with some resign, she wore the boots instead.

After pulling on the jacket and slinging her backpack over her shoulders, she ventured out of the room, where Gandalf was waiting for her out in the hallway, standing at an awkward angle to keep from brushing his head on the ceiling.

Though his lips pursed when he noticed her jeans, he did not comment on her appearance, instead only giving her a brief nod.

"Come," he said. "Perhaps if we beat the dwarves to the bar they will not scare off any patrons."

She did not miss the way he muttered, "Hopefully."


If Alison hadn't received the biggest shock of her life already, she was sure that meeting the dwarves of Thorin's Company would have ranked higher than 'Biggest Shock #2.'

She remembered from the book that they had been described as having beards and wearing hoods of various colors, but the reality was much different. These dwarves were clad in leathers, furs, and metal, with weapons she hadn't the heart to describe strapped to their waists and backs. They were taller than she expected—she had assumed they would be hobbit-sized, but they stood several inches higher, almost at her height, which she couldn't help but feel a little offended by. Though their height was on par with hers, their girth was at least double that, their bodies stocky and wide, like barrels, and well-muscled. However, she had to amend that observation a bit when one waddled into view, his belly protruding out so far he nearly knocked over a table.

"Gandalf," she said out of the corner of her mouth as the dwarves approached the table they were sitting at, "why are there only eight of them?"

She had done a headcount as soon as she saw them, and though it had been a while since she had read the book, she was positive that there were supposed to be thirteen.

"Oh, I expect they sent some of them ahead," the wizard said airily, leaving Alison to frown as he turned to greet the dwarves.

"Well met, my friends," he said. "I hope you had no trouble on the way here?"

"None at all," a cheerful one wearing a flappy-eared hat said. He smiled broadly, his eyes lighting up in curiosity when he spotted Alison half-sitting, half-hiding behind the wizard. "Who's this?"

"Master Dwarves, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Alison Ashburne," Gandalf said, sweeping his hand to her in a grand gesture despite her still sitting there mutely. "She is my companion and the second member that I have chosen for our Company."

The dwarves shifted at this, and murmurs began to break out before Gandalf silenced them with a look, indicating that she should say something.

"Um, hello," she said, waving awkwardly, and the one who had spoken first beamed at her.

"Bofur, at your service, miss," he said, bowing at the waist, and the tense spell was broken as others began to do the same.

"Nori, at your service," said one with a hairstyle that quite resembled a starfish.

"Dori, and Ori," said another. He was the stockiest one there, with silver hair and beard, and he bowed along with a meek-looking fellow with mousy brown hair and a small braided beard.

"Glóin, and Óin." A dwarf with fiery red hair and a scarred face bowed next to one with gray hair and a mini trumpet he held up to his ear.

"Bombur," the largest one said nervously before gesturing to a dwarf next to him that seemed to have an axe-head embedded in his skull if she wasn't mistaken. "And Bifur."

"Ai-menu duzhuk," Bifur said. Alison tried to smile politely at him, but it came out more like a grimace.

"Where are the others in your Company?" Gandalf asked, thankfully drawing the dwarves' attention away from her again.

Bofur shrugged. "Dwalin went to find the door with the mark, and Balin followed not long after, saying something about 'diplomacy' and 'common courtesies,'" he explained. "Fíli and Kíli left after stabling our ponies, I assume to follow them."

"Indeed?" Gandalf said. "And what of Thorin?"

"He traveled north, to a meeting of our kin," Dori said, throwing a cautious glance at Alison. "He will be along shortly."

"Good," Gandalf said, gathering up his staff and hat. "Then let us be on our way."

The dwarves filed out of the inn, the hobbits left in their wake staring after them with wide eyes. The bar had become quite popular now that night had fallen, and Alison kept her head down as she followed Gandalf out, clutching her backpack straps tightly.

Gandalf swept his hat back on once they stepped outside and began to lead the way up the highest hill in the village, where a sprawling oak tree climbed into the sky, its branches teeming with stars.

Alison kept pace with the wizard, feeling the stares on her back as they walked. It was clear the dwarves were wary of her, if not outright suspicious, and the thought did nothing to improve her spirits.

The walk up the hill was quick, but the sky was an inky black by the time they reached the topmost residence, built into the hill itself. A round green door with a yellow knob greeted them as the dwarves crowded the threshold, arguing as to who should ring or knock first. Through their squabbling bodies, Alison could make out a glowing mark at the bottom of the door, and her stomach squirmed uncomfortably at the daunting night she had ahead of her.

Eventually, someone knocked, but Alison kept back as the dwarves continued to push and shove. She saw Gandalf looking on with an amused expression and leaned over to him. "Are they always like this?"

"Of course not," Gandalf replied. "In fact, this is the most civilized I've seen them."

Her face blanched, but her retort was lost when the door suddenly opened like a pop-gun, sending the dwarves sprawling across the threshold with shouts and grunts.

Bilbo Baggins stood in the doorway, his brown curls askew and his clothes rumpled, and Alison thought she had never seen someone look so defeated before. His eyes trailed wearily from the squirming dwarves at his hairy feet to Alison, his resign deepening when they settled on the wizard beside her.

"Gandalf," he said, and he looked as if he wanted nothing more than to slam the door in their faces.

The dwarves finally managed to get to their feet, and with hurried bows and hasty introductions, they trooped inside, following the scent of food and the sound of commotion from within the hobbit's home.

Gandalf approached more leisurely, and Alison followed, coming to a stop when Gandalf gestured to her. "Bilbo, allow me to introduce you to Alison Ashburne."

She smiled as politely as she could when the hobbit turned to her. Despite his clear disgruntlement at the dwarves currently invading his home, he still had the decency to shake her hand, giving her a sort of grimace in greeting.

"A pleasure, Miss Ashburne," he said before turning back to Gandalf accusingly. "I suppose this is your doing?"

He pointed to the interior of his house, where several loud crashes and a resounding cheer from the dwarves echoed back to them. The wizard grinned sheepishly.

"Yes, I do believe so," he said. Bilbo huffed in annoyance. "I'm sure you have been a gracious host to them, though."

Bilbo looked offended at the mere thought of being a bad host, but he only blustered and flapped his hand, waving them inside.

Alison glanced to the threshold warily, suddenly getting a very strong feeling that if she were to step inside, there would be no going back. The Valar had plucked her from her world and dropped her inside a story that was impossibly real, and she believed Gandalf when he'd told her that they would not let her go back unless she completed her task and fulfilled Eleon Ashburne's Oath. Entering Bilbo's hobbit-hole would not only be the beginning of her adventure but the ending of her old life.

"Miss Ashburne?"

She looked up to see Bilbo staring at her, puzzled. He seemed to read something on her face within that moment, for his gaze softened a bit.

"Why don't you come inside?" he said, extending his hand to her.

"If you wish to return to your family and home once your task has been completed, then you must learn to be strong," Gandalf's voice echoed in her head, and when she met Bilbo's eyes again, she knew there was only one way to go—forward.

She took his hand and stepped over the threshold.


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