Thorin wakes me in the wee hours of the morning. I do as he did the night before and face away from the fire, holding a dagger that he gave me. What he expects me to do with it I have no clue. The only thing I am qualified to do is to scream for him should another goblin or an orc decide to attack us.
Luckily nothing happens, and after a quick meal of the flat bread and some water, we are under way, heading east and south. Thorin explains that he's leading us to a small town that he knows of, where we will hopefully be able to find a tailor with premade clothing for someone my size.
I am by no means tall, but I'm definitely taller than anyone else around here, so finding appropriate clothing will be nothing short of a miracle in my opinion. However, not only do we find a tailor in this town, there is clothing quite appropriate for my size.
The tailor explains as she makes adjustments to the hem of an outer tunic. "It's not often that we get rangers through this way, though they do come through sometimes with requests for better clothes than they can make themselves. I've profited greatly from anticipating their needs. Quite nicely, in fact."
Before I know it, I'm outfitted with one pair of sturdy travelling boots, socks, two pairs of flexible pants reinforced with leather, one looser and the other tighter, two lace-up outer tunics that reach my mid-thigh with hoods (why Thorin insisted on the hoods I don't know), and two undershirts. Over all of this goes a belt and a long leather coat.
When Thorin hands over the appropriate amount of coin to the lady, he slips in another and adds meaningfully, "You did not see us come this way." He then departs, with me throwing a glance over my shoulder at the confused woman's face.
Indeed, Thorin is wise to be cautious. As far as he can tell no one but the dwarves know of his quest, but should that information somehow leak out, it's better to cover our tracks as much as we can. I can only imagine how dangerous it would be if we arrived at the mountain and found Smaug awake, waiting for us.
After leaving the tailor's, we also buy a various camp supplies, a hooded, waterproof cloak, a sewing kit, soap, a water skin, and a bag to replace my definitely-not-from Middle Earth bag. I agree with Thorin. It's better not to stand out too much. I also insist on some cloth that I can cut into strips for my period and for my chest, even though I don't explain its intended purpose to Thorin. Not that he bothers asking.
We pause a moment for me to move my things from my backpack to my new one, along with my backpack, extra clothes and cloak. My bedroll attaches to the bottom.
"Come, we must hurry if we are to reach our meeting place before nightfall. We have tarried here long enough." Thorin starts to walk away, shouldering his own pack. I have to hurry to catch up with him, surprising me because I'm a bit taller than him.
He turns his glance up to me, and in the daylight I can finally see that his eyes are a deep blue. Thorin studies my new appearance, and nods his approval.
"You can pay me back for your supplies when you have the coin for it," he says. I consider this, then ask, "Could you not just take it out of my salary? It would be easier on both of us." He lifts his brows in surprise, but then grunts in what I hope is concession. "Very well."
"Speaking of, I'd like to discuss my payment." Thorin looks at me, unimpressed. "If I'm to pull my own weight as a company member, I'll need to buy my own supplies, yes? I don't think I need a lot now, but I'd at least like a little so I wouldn't have to depend on you for everything."
"And what do you expect me to give you at the end? You are not a dwarf; you have no claim to the mountain. I will not give you a full share of the wealth."
"I don't expect a full share. But I'd like enough for compensation of my services on the quest of course, as well as a little to be able to afford a little travel after. You know, for support."
Thorin thinks for a minute, then says, "10,000 gold coins." The number almost sends me reeling, but then I remember how much gold is in that mountain.
"20,000," I counter. I personally think that's a ridiculous number, but considering I don't know what things cost here or how much it may take to establish myself after the quest, assuming I don't go back to my earth, I think it's fair.
Thorin stops to face me. "15,000, and not a penny more." "That's fair." He sticks his hand out, and I go to shake, but then he grasps my elbow, supporting his own with his other hand, the arm crossed over his body. I mimic the action, and the deal is sealed.
He turns back to the path we travel on, and we continue to eat away the distance.
It is dusk when we reach a familiar little town. I know upon seeing the hobbit smial at the top of the hill crowned by a huge oak tree that we are in Hobbiton.
"We've made good time. Better than I expected. Though I do not see Gandalf's mark." Thorin murmurs, breaking the hours-long silence. The hidden barb flies over my head unnoticed as I gaze at the view before me. The hobbits gawk at first, then firmly pretend to not notice us as we continue forward.
When I find the path that leads up to Bilbo's home, I start up it immediately, only to realize Thorin is not following. I turn around, my confusion plain on my face, to see him looking confused as well.
"Where are you going?" "It's up this way." I gesture behind me in the direction of Bilbo's smial, and Thorin's brow furrows a bit more.
"Are you sure? I see nothing up there." Then he pauses and shakes his head slightly, as if remembering that I already know all of this, and starts up the path towards me. Together we continue up until we reach Bilbo's gate.
We enter, and I hear the sounds of a riotous party. This I do not remember from the book. Granted, it's been several years since I read it. I shoot another look at Thorin, who knocks heavily on the door.
No one answers, and the party still seems to be in full swing. I try the door knob set exactly in the center of the round door, and to my surprise find it unlocked. Seeing no one in the entry way, I swing the door open wider and Thorin steps in. I follow, shutting the door behind me.
I discard my pack along with others piled on the floor, hanging my ridiculously long coat on a peg that Thorin indicates with his hand. I follow him towards the source of the noise, which seems to be coming from down the hall.
Sure enough, we turn the corner, and there they all are, the famed company of Thorin Oakenshield, in the middle of flinging dishes at each other, midair acrobatics, and singing at an extremely loud level. Thorin and I stand unnoticed for a few seconds, until someone's aim goes awry and a plate hits me square in the face.
My cry of pain silences the room so fast it's like I robbed them of their lungs. Finally a voice breaks the heavy silence. "I beg your apologies for hitting you in the face miss, but… who might you be?"
It's as if the dwarf breaks a spell over the rest, because they suddenly begin to move with a speed I didn't know dwarves possessed. The dishes are cleared, two seats are pulled out at the table set back in the hallway, and when we finally sit down after a long day of walking, bowls of soup and a plate of rolls appear in front of us.
A mug of something appears in my hand, startling me. Clearly dwarves don't know anything about legal drinking ages, since I'm only 20. Although since I'm in Middle Earth, what does it matter? I have no plans to ever get drunk, though that won't stop me from having a few drinks every now and then. I take a sip of whatever it is and the alcohol burns in my throat, before settling warmly in my stomach.
Finally, the dwarves are seated around us, and a very tall old man, who must be Gandalf, speaks. "Welcome Thorin. We are glad you could finally make it. Though I believe that we are all curious as to who the young lady is, as Master Dori asked earlier."
Thorin sits back from his soup, clenching his hands as if expecting a fight. A quick glance at me, then to the rest of the company as he answers the wizard, "This is Miss Aspen Brooks. I have hired her as a personal aide to me on the quest—."
He is immediately cut off by the raised voices of several dwarves vehemently protesting my presence on the quest, though I notice that not everyone is shouting, including Gandalf, a small person that can only be Bilbo, and a couple of the dwarves. I know why they protest. I look unassuming, young, and innocent. Though my build is sturdy and strong, I was not the most athletic, sitting on a bench most of my soccer games. But they don't know me. They don't know what I know. They're underestimating me, which is something a lot of people do. I don't bother to argue with the dwarves, knowing soon enough that they will find out otherwise.
"Enough!" Thorin roars, slamming his hand on the table and making my soup jump. The protesting dwarves fall silent, though somewhat reluctantly. Thorin is their king and he seems to require their obedience, even if he is willing to accept their questions. Although he doesn't appreciate them at times, I note wryly as he glares at the whole company. "Enough. I have determined that Aspen will be of great use on the quest, though for what purpose I will not reveal to you until later. She will accompany us to Erebor, and will then be free to do as she pleases."
"I don't like it." The one directly opposite me growls. I tilt my head slightly as I take in his hard eyes, scars, shaved head, and bulging arms. I purse my lips and narrow my eyes as he continues to speak to Thorin, not even bothering to acknowledge me. "She's no fighter, just look at her! No muscle whatsoever! She will not be able to fend for herself and we would have to protect her ourselves, to the detriment of our own safety. How do we know she would not be a liability? Can she do anything useful? I am sorry Thorin, but I cannot trust her."
Before Thorin can say anything, I answer, causing all of the startled dwarf faces to swing in my direction. "I don't trust you either, Master Dwarf." I straighten in my seat, glancing quickly at Thorin before I continue. "I don't trust any of you. I don't know who y'all are, or if I will be safe travelling with you." The shaven dwarf scoffs, but I plow on.
"I do have my uses, though I will only reveal those when Thorin deems it appropriate. But I will warn you not to underestimate me Master Dwarf. I'm not as useless as I would seem." Having said my piece, I lean back, indicating I'm done talking. The shaven dwarf narrows his eyes at me, and I return his glare until Gandalf breaks the uncomfortable silence hanging around the table.
"Aspen is an unusual name. Where are you from?" He muses, looking at me with a mix of curiosity and wariness in his eyes. I detect no hostility from him, only caution. "My home is very far from here. Very far away." "Indeed?" Gandalf inquires, though it doesn't sound so much like a question.
"To business," Thorin states gruffly, having finished his soup.
The main subject shifts to the upcoming quest, and I continue to eat my soup, well aware of Gandalf's eye on me. Unfortunately I can only hazard guesses as to which dwarf is which. Though they were being filmed, the Hobbit movie and promo pics had yet to be released when I ended up here. The one speaking now has a long white beard and long white hair that he ties partly back.
"What news of the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" "Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms," Thorin replies. The shaven dwarf I don't like asks the next question. "And what did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" Thorin sighs. "They will not come," he says in a low voice, to the disappointment of the others. "They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."
"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Gandalf speaks while unfolding a map, and Bilbo brings over a candle. "Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single, solitary peak." "The Lonely Mountain," Bilbo reads from the map, sounding somewhat confused.
"Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time," announces a rather large dwarf with a very fine red beard. Suddenly I'm struck with the realization that this must be Gloin, Gimli's father. No other dwarf I've heard of has a beard as nice as that. A couple of the dwarves roll their eyes at this as a dwarf I assume must be his brother Oin continues where Gloin left off. "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. 'When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.'"
Bilbo does not like this mention of the beast one bit, and seems quite distressed at the description of Smaug a cheerful black dwarf in a floppy hat gives him. Suddenly a younger dwarf, also black, stands up and exclaims, "I'm not afraid! I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!" Amid cheers I pick out the name Ori. As another dwarf drags him down to his seat, I decide I quite like this Ori dwarf.
The white-haired dwarf speaks again. "The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen. Not thirteen of the best. Nor brightest."
And with that comment the dwarves are at it again, squabbling like children. Thorin doesn't participate, instead looking like a father fed up with said children.
He finally roars out something in another language I don't understand, his hands accentuating his words. "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 in 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? Du bekâr! Du bekâr!"
The dwarves cheer loudly, thumping the table, before the white-haired dwarf cuts through the commotion.
"You forget the front gate is sealed! There is no way into the mountain."
"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf replies. So the white-haired dwarf is Balin. If I remember the books correctly, he is a close friend of Thorin. Another thought strikes me, and I sit up abruptly with wide eyes fixed on the dwarf in question. Thorin notices my action, but says nothing. However, I can see from his eyes that we will speak of this later.
My attention turns to the hobbit as Thorin and Gandalf have a discussion about a key that Gandalf's produced. He seems very timid, but this can work to his advantage if he plays it right. And of course having read the book back in my world, I know that the very traits that seems to discredit Mr. Baggins will be his greatest strengths. When the Dwarves finally mention to Bilbo that he is needed for the role of a burglar, he protests vehemently. "No, no, no, I'm not a burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my life!"
"Well I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." To my chagrin, Balin agrees with the hobbit. "Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." The shaven dwarf says his piece, throwing a glare in at me for good measure. I smirk back. Thorin looks to me with a question in his eyes. I nod slightly.
Thorin reluctantly says, "If Mr. Baggins will agree to it, we will take him on as our burglar. Balin, give him the contract."
I stand up at this, intent on finding the bathroom for a quick bath. I don't know the geography of Middle Earth, but baths are not something I see occurring very often in my future. As I leave the table, I hear the hatted dwarf yet again describing the dragon Smaug in unnecessary and graphic detail to the poor hobbit. I sigh, shaking my head.
I find the bathroom and take my bath, delighted to find indoor plumbing. Of course, my brain wanders to the subject of Thorin and what happens to him in the book. Should I tell him everything I know about the story? He would not appreciate me withholding information from him, but would the knowledge of his future death discourage him from his quest? And what of his nephews Fili and Kili? They are also supposed to die at the end of the story, and though I couldn't figure out which ones they were at dinner tonight, I wouldn't want to see them dead. I decide to ask Gandalf for his opinion.
After I finish in the bathroom, I head outside for some quiet time before I settle in for the night. I sit on the front steps, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. My second full day in Middle Earth has been very eventful, what with all the walking during the day and meeting the company this evening. After a few minutes by myself, I hear someone approach.
"Ah, Miss Brooks! I was hoping to speak with you. Do you mind?" I look up to see Gandalf standing next to me. "Not at all. I was hoping to ask you some things too."
Gandalf settles next to me. "You carry quite a few secrets, Miss Brooks. It shall be most interesting to see how this affects the quest." I'm not surprised that Gandalf already knows I have secrets, even if he doesn't know exactly what they are. Wizards know almost everything after all.
"Gandalf, if…something really bad happens after we reach the mountain, would you advise me to tell Thorin?" "That depends on the problem my dear. If it affects the rest of the world, or the future of Middle Earth, I would not tell him. It's best to leave those things as they are. But if it is life-threatening for any of the company members, then I would perhaps. There's no sense in unnecessary deaths, especially if they can somehow be avoided."
I want to grind my teeth in frustration at my dilemma. "Yes but Gandalf, the problem is both. If this person dies, then the fate of Middle Earth will be very different, and I'm not entirely sure it would be good. Besides, the future of Middle Earth is already different just because I'm going on this quest."
"I suppose you are right," Gandalf replies after a bit of thinking. "I shall leave it up to you then. You must do what you deem is right." We sit in silence for a moment, listening to the dwarves singing a mournful, yet powerful tune.
"Will I be able to go home Gandalf? I miss my family, and I don't belong here." "I don't know. I personally do not have the power to send you home, but there are others in Middle Earth who might be able to do so." "Like Elrond?" "Yes. He could do so perhaps. But only time will be able to tell my dear. Now I'm going to get some rest; I suggest you do the same." He stands. "Goodnight Gandalf. Thank you for your help." "You're quite welcome Aspen."
I hear the door shut behind him, and I let out a big sigh. "You've been out here for some time." Thorin says from behind me, causing me to jump and turn to where he leans on the doorframe. "Thorin! I didn't know you were out here!"
"We will be leaving early in the morning. I suggest you get some sleep." "I will, but Thorin, there's something I want to tell you." Thorin waits, raising his eyebrows as I hesitate. It's best to tell him, I think. It is his life, and his nephews' lives at stake. He deserves to know. And perhaps by telling him these deaths can be avoided.
"You should sit down for this." Grumbling, Thorin does so, coming to sit by me.
"At the end of our journey Thorin, you and your nephews die. At least you do in the story I know." Thorin frowns in disbelief. "How?" "There is a huge battle for the mountain between elves, men, goblins, dwarves, and wolves I think. You get injured, and Kili and Fili die defending you. I believe you die after the battle."
I glance over at him. He's sitting staring out into the night, dazed by the information I've thrust upon him.
"I thought you should know," I say softly. "I don't want it to happen, and by telling you now, I hope that you'll survive. All of you, though I don't know Fili and Kili."
Thorin nods, and suddenly seems filled with a new purpose. "I appreciate your telling me. I will do my best to ensure the survival of my nephews, though for myself I will make no promises." He stands abruptly. "Come, the hour grows late. If we are to be ready we must go in now."
I nod, standing and following him into the blessedly quiet hobbit smial. I get my bed roll from my bag, roll it out in an unobtrusive corner in the sitting room. I stare at the dying flames in the fireplace, remembering the night before when I met Thorin. Then I remember my family, and how much I miss them. I sigh, and with their faces in my head, I drift off to sleep.
