Hello everyone! I'd like to thank everyone for following along with me so far! I really appreciate it and I love sharing my story with you.
CW for this chapter, sexual harassment and attempted sexual assault. Please do not read if this is a trigger in any way.
A couple of small things for this story: one, the song in this chapter is Charlie Boy by The Lumineers; second, I imagine this story as taking place in the spring of 2011. So clearly, Aspen doesn't know what the movies are like because the trailers haven't been released yet and neither have promo pics, Obama is president, Arab Spring is really important as a developing news story, etc. That said, if I find a particular thing from the Hobbit movies I like, or a song from say, late 2011 or 2015, that I think works with the story, I might work it in.
I hope this clears up confusion if people are wondering why it's 2020 and Aspen hasn't seen the movies yet. Happy reading!
The next morning a boot nudges me awake. "Miss Aspen? You should wake now, if you would like breakfast." I don't recognize the voice that's speaking, and I crack open my eyes to see Ori peering down at me like an anxious owl. I scrunch up my nose and scowl. It seems no matter what world I'm in, I still don't like waking up too early.
"I'm sorry for waking you Miss Aspen, but Thorin insisted—" I wave my hand, cutting Ori off. "It's okay Ori," I say, my voice still thick with sleep. "I don't like waking too early is all. Nothing against you." "Oh! Right!" Ori replies, looking relieved. "Breakfast is in the kitchen. Bombur cooked up a couple of things." He scurries off, leaving me to get up on my own. In an effort to not fall back asleep, I sit and stretch for a moment, scrubbing my face with my hands. Then I sigh, and climb out of my bedroll. I'm the last to join the company in the kitchen, though Bilbo is also absent.
None of the company bother to say anything to me, though a few do look up in acknowledgment. I help myself to a plate of fried eggs and ham, then eat my food standing as I don't particularly wish to join the dwarves at the table. After this I attend to my needs in the bathroom, and head outside with my bag, making a mental note to ask Thorin about how to clean teeth here.
After the rest of the dwarves join me, we leave Bilbo to his sleep with instructions to join us at the Green Dragon Inn by 11:00 in Bywater, and set off down the lane. Most of the dwarves take this opportunity to introduce themselves to me, or in the case of the extremely rude shaven dwarf, be introduced by his brother.
Ori introduces me to his brothers, Dori and Nori, both of whom have thick, kinky beards twisted into intricate patterns with many beads. They seem indifferent to my presence, but I'm encouraged by Ori's shy smile, though it's quickly cut off by Nori. They scurry on, Ori sandwiched in the middle and slightly hunched as Dori and Nori talk to each other over his head.
Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur are next, and I realize that Bofur is the hatted dwarf who kept frightening Bilbo yesterday. Bifur and Bombur seem nice enough, though quiet. Bombur has to be the biggest dwarf in the company, and I wonder if this will cause issues for him later on. He does seem quite agile despite his girth so I doubt it. Oin and Gloin are gruff, short, and overly polite, which leaves me with the sense that they disapprove of my participation in the quest. I just purse my lips and nod my head, knowing there's nothing I can do to make them like me.
Balin introduces himself, and apologizes for his brother Dwalin's words towards me yesterday. I dismiss it, saying that he has a right to be cautious. I think this takes Balin by surprise, and he gives me a shrewd look before we are interrupted by two young dwarves with rich clothing and similar hairclasps. These last two are Kili and Fili, Thorin's nephews and heirs. They are the youngest out of the entire company, excluding myself. Young as they are, they have nice thick beards, though they keep them short like Thorin. And though they are warm to Balin and Dwalin, they only nod politely to me before running up to the front where Thorin walks ahead of the company.
By the time we reach the inn I'm fairly certain I'll be able to remember the names of the dwarves, even if I don't talk with them much. They all seem cautious of me, though I would say only Dwalin is downright hostile. That's fine by me—I don't trust them either. Whether that changes remains to be seen.
Thorin tasks me with looking after the ponies until we're ready to set off. I stroke each of their noses and allow them to get familiar with my scent. I check their hooves for dirt or rocks, and by the time the company is ready to go, the ponies are saddled and packed with our supplies.
I'm leading a couple of them out into the yard when I see Bilbo sprinting up the lane, and I grin to myself. Hobbits really are remarkable creatures, even ones that have quite a bit of Baggins in them. I help him mount up, then go to my own larger pony. Thorin gestures for me to ride up with him, so I make my way to his side, and we are off.
The day passes slowly, but pleasantly. Thorin does not speak much with me, choosing to instead speak with either Gandalf or Balin. He does give me a small amount of coin, which contributes towards my payment later. I hope it will be enough to get me through the quest.
We're still in the hobbit lands, so we cause quite a stir whenever we pass a village. Thorin ignores them, as do the rest of the dwarves, but I cannot help marveling at the tiny people and the surrounding area. Nor can I help laughing at Bilbo's face when Bofur tosses him a scrap from his shirt to use in place of a handkerchief.
At dinner, I help Bombur cut up vegetables for the stew, but we don't say much beyond what is necessary. I can already tell he is a dwarf of few words. I do thank him for his wonderful cooking though, and he gives me a small nod in acknowledgement.
After dinner I take out my pocket knife and begin to cut my period cloth into strips. I know it won't be enough for the entire journey, but hopefully it will last until we reach a place where I can restock. "What are you doing?" a curious voice asks. I look up to find Bilbo Baggins peering at me from his seat at the fire, along with some of the dwarves.
"I am cutting this into strips Bilbo." "Well yes, but why?" I sigh. Why do I have to explain periods? Why? I'm saved from answering by Thorin, who announces the night watches. "Fili and Gloin will take first watch, followed by Bifur and Oin. Aspen and myself will take last watch." No one objects to his words, though a few shoot me wary glances. I purse my lips and don't say anything. I may not be trained, but I can still keep a lookout.
Thorin wakes me for our watch, and like I did yesterday morning, I scowl before forcing myself out of my bedroll. Thorin leads me to a place a little away from the main camp that provides a good vantage point for keeping watch, where we can't be overheard. He takes out his pipe and lights it, settling himself.
He wants to talk about Balin.
And sure enough, after a couple minutes of silent puffing, he speaks. "You know something about Balin. I did not miss the way you sat forward at mention of his name last night." "Yes. I know what happens to him in the future." "That does not sound promising." "It isn't," I respond. Thorin falls silent, thinking for a minute. "Then I do not wish to know. Do not say anything to him either." I snort softly. "Of course I won't."
We sit in silence, keeping watch in the dim light, each wrapped in our thoughts. Thorin's voice breaks the calm.
"Will you sing something for me?"
"What do you want to hear?" I'm surprised at his request. After my impromptu solo back when he first found me, Thorin has made no mention of my singing to anyone, so to hear him request it now seems odd. "Anything slow and quiet. My mind is turbulent tonight." "Alright," I say, thinking for a minute. My music tastes run from hard rock to soundtrack to some pop, so I have a bit to choose from. I begin softly,
Charlie boy, don't go to war
First born in forty - four
Kennedy made him believe
We could do much more
Lillian, don't hang your head
Love should make you feel good
In uniform you raised a man
Who volunteered to stand
Play the bugle, play the taps and
Make your mothers proud
Raise your rifles to the sky boys
Fire that volley loud
News was bad on Upland Ave.
Metuchen mourn our loss
Sons rebelled, while fathers yelled
And mothers clutched the cross
Play the bugle, play the taps and
Make your fathers proud
Raise your rifles to the sky boys
Fire that volley loud
I keep my voice low and soft, the song almost a whispered lullaby. I finish and Thorin sighs. "I thank you." "You're quite welcome," I reply. "But who are the people mentioned in the song? Ken Nedy, Charlie, and Lily Anne?" The words are foreign on his tongue, and I chuckle. "One's a former leader of my country, the other two are just people. Not famous."
"Oh. But it's a war song?" "Yes, I suppose it is." "What is a rifle?" I spend the next few minutes trying to explain what a gun is, but I don't do it justice. Thorin comments that the song is different from the war laments sung by his people. I want to ask if he will sing for me, but instead I ask him about cleaning my teeth.
We sit together in companionable silence until Thorin finally says we should wake the others. And after eating breakfast and breaking up camp, we are on our way again.
After two weeks of travelling on the Great East Road we reach Bree. While I am glad of the respite that we will have from sleeping outside and on the ground, I remain on high alert. The town has quite a few shady-looking characters that slink away down side allies as we make our way towards a nondescript, somewhat run-down inn a few streets from the town square. We hand the ponies off to some stable boys, and away from Thorin's gaze, I give the scrawniest one an apple that I managed to save from breakfast yesterday. His eyes go round, and he looks up at me with awe. He breaks into a gap-toothed smile which I return. I turn and hurry out before anyone notices I'm missing, though I fail to see another pair of eyes staring after me.
In the inn I have my own room, between Gandalf and Thorin and right across from Dwalin and Balin. One of the company is to always escort me to and from places, even the bathroom. I don't argue against these rules, though it's going to be awkward for both myself and the dwarf assigned to guard duty. As I splash water on my face and arms to freshen up, a knock sounds on the door. Peeking out, I see Gloin standing there, arms crossed and looking entirely annoyed at having been assigned first shift of guard duty. He grunts and together we make our way downstairs for dinner.
With all the men in the room, I don't miss the eyes that follow me—a human girl travelling in the company of thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a tall, scraggly man that looks rather like a vagabond. Their gazes makes my skin crawl, and when we reach the company, I sit in between Fili and Dwalin, hunkering down to make myself less noticeable. Dwalin shoots me a glare, but I ignore him and focus on eating my meal as quick as I can. If anyone notices anything off about my behavior, they don't say anything. Most of the dwarves are in high spirits, having plenty of access to ale or wine or whatever it is they like to drink. I decline every mug passed my way, needing to stay on watch. No one really notices this either.
Dragging Gloin away from the alcohol and the food, I go back upstairs for a quick bath, and then shut myself in my room, locking the door and windows before I finally relax. I slump in front of the fire, rubbing my clean face and wishing to myself that we had never passed through Bree. My earlier excitement at not sleeping on the ground? Gone. I already hate this place, and we've been here for a grand total of four hours. How does anyone stand the dirt or the people? Bree seems to be a fairly wealthy town since it's the biggest one for miles around, making it a crossroads for merchants and travelers. Yet even with all this money coming in from passerby, the town itself remains a dump.
A comparison could certainly be drawn between Bree and some places in my world that had similar situations; corruption and greed among the leaders while the rest of the people live in desperation and poverty. If I have to stay in Middle Earth after the company reaches Erebor and kills the dragon, I don't know what I will do. But maybe I could go to a university, do some learning about laws or diplomacy. Finish my degree in a way. With a curious hum, I snuff out the candles, shuck off my boots and clothes, and crawl into bed.
The next morning I crack open my door to check and see if any of the company is already up. To my surprise Balin is standing outside it. He turns when he hears the creak of the hinges, and he gives me a small but genuine smile. "Good morning to ye lass. Did you sleep alright?" "I did thank you. Why are you standing outside my door if I may ask?"
Balin nods and says, "Last night Bofur and Bifur said when they came up the stairs someone was trying to enter your room. The man disappeared soon after they gave chase and they couldn't see who it was. Thorin thought it best to post a guard outside for the rest of the night and delegated the duty to me."
My face pales at his words, and I grip my pack all the tighter. I should have known this would happen. And honestly, Thorin should have also. I know he said I was responsible for my own safety, but he could have helped me a little by not picking the seediest place in town.
I resolve to ask him about obtaining some weapons for my personal safety. My pocket knife and mace will not do much good here it seems.
Breakfast is a hurried affair, the dwarves shoveling in as much food as they can. Bilbo eats just as much, though with better manners. When the meal is finished, Thorin sends members of the company out for supplies. Since Balin, Bombur, and I are to start getting the ponies ready, I ask Kili to get me a few sticks specifically for cleaning teeth, and though he gives me a funny look, he quickly agrees when I hand him a few coins for payment.
I work quickly to tack up the ponies, noticing that the stable boys are absent. An hour or so later, I'm finishing with my pony Briar, who seems antsy today, and settling my pack when I feel a presence behind me that makes my hairs stand on end. My body stiff, I quickly sense it's not one of the company, so in the pretense of fiddling with it some more, I manage to slip out my can of mace. I turn to the person behind me, and see one of the missing stable boys, finally showed up.
"May I help you?" My voice is frigid, my face and manner unfriendly. If he's smart, he will see that I'm tensed for a fight and hiding my fisted can of mace in my cloak. But he has no eyes for those things, only for my figure. His gaze roams up and down my body before fixing on my chest, and I decide to put Briar in between me and him.
"Saw ye give tha' apple t' the brat yesterday. Got anythin' else te give?" he finally says. My glare is ice cold, and I grind out, "Get out of my way." I start to lead Briar out of her stall, clutching my can of mace in my fist, but before I can get out of the door, the lad, who's slightly taller than me and much, much wider, blocks the way. I look into his dirty face and growl, "I said get out of my way. You would be wise to do as I told you." The boy chuckles, putting out his arms to block the way and push me back into the stall, drawing way too close to both me and Briar, whose ears are flat on her head.
I see several options open to me. One, open my mace and spray, which would surely allow me to escape. However, the mace could drift towards Briar and possibly myself, which is the last thing that I want.
Two, I could try to take the boy on. This option I quickly rule out. While I have some training in self-defense, it isn't enough to take on a boy probably twice my weight.
The third option is to send Briar on out and hope for the best. Deciding on the third option, I shout and slap Briar hard on the flank, causing her to whinny and rear. Panicking, the boy trips on his feet in his haste to avoid her hooves and falls flat on his butt. She tears out of the stall and I run out after her, jumping to avoid the boy's grabbing hands. The boy, who seems to be quite dense, stumbles out a few seconds later, but it's enough for me to get away. I'm just reaching the entrance to the stables when he tackles me from behind, sending me sprawling with him on top.
"Get off!" I scream, punching at him with my fists and trying to squirm out from beneath him. Balin is already running over with Bombur. Together they rip the boy off of me and fling him back. While Bombur helps me to my feet, Balin draws his sword and lays it at the boy's throat. A different side of Balin emerges. He is no longer the friendly dwarf that I have observed on the journey. Instead he is hard like Thorin and brutal like his brother.
"Disturbing our lass now were you? Explain to me why I should not slit your throat for assaulting her." The boy blabbers some nonsense that Balin dismisses with a snort and he renews pressure on the boy's throat.
This is how the rest of the company finds us a short while later, with the boy still spewing nonsense and snot and tears and Balin still looking like a furious grandpa. Most of them crowd around me, where I have finally stopped clinging to Bombur, while Thorin, Gandalf, and Dwalin deal with the boy. Balin quickly explains the situation to them, and though it will delay us, they decide to take the boy in front of a sheriff.
At first, the sheriff laughs when Thorin explains the situation to him, telling him it's not his business because we are only passing through and they're just dwarves and I'm just a girl. Besides, a woman travelling with thirteen dwarves has to enjoy that kind of stuff anyway, right?
Bombur and Bofur suddenly find it prudent to hold me back as Gandalf quickly makes this issue the sheriff's business, his staff quite literally under the sheriff's nose as he mutters something about corruption and blackmail.
The boy watches us leave, firmly in the grip of three guards. I stop and stare at him, Thorin by my side.
"I told you to get out of my way. Next time, do as you're told."
When we are finally on our way later that afternoon, Bombur and Thorin quietly ask after me. To Bombur I say I'm fine. To Thorin I have much harsher words, and to his credit he has the grace to look slightly embarrassed and not argue with me.
The day that follows is much like the others have been, as are the days after that. The days bleed into weeks, which bleeds into a month and a half.
My request for weapons is heard and rejected by Thorin, who says that because we're out of Bree there's no need to worry. Even telling him that there will be other towns, other places does nothing. As long as I'm surrounded by dwarves, I'll be ok, probably. I'm much too frustrated to tell him this is bullshit.
The rest of the company gradually settles into a routine, but I don't care for it much. I continue to help out the company with the chores, like looking after the ponies, collecting firewood, and cooking. I mend what needs to be mended, and even help with foraging for some of our food, but for all my efforts, they remain distant.
I have a small friendship with Bombur and Ori, but for the most part they are content to leave me be. Even Kili and Fili, who are friends with everybody, keep their distance. Thorin will sometimes talk to me at night when we're on watch together, but during the day he is distant, a leader of a company. I would talk to Gandalf if I could, but usually he's either off by himself or talking with Thorin and Balin about some important thing or other. I don't say anything to anyone, but there's a physical ache in my heart that has been growing with the weeks.
Finally, after one particularly nasty week of pouring rain and miserable huddles in my cloak, I can't take it anymore. As soon as we stop for the night, I slide off my pony, get my bag, and go to sulk under a nearby tree. I bury my face in my knees and begin to cry softly. Though I am a quiet person by nature, I need at least some human, or in this case dwarvish, interaction to keep me in good spirits. I can hear the sounds of a cold camp being set up around me, but I don't move from my spot, and no one bothers me until dinner time.
They only notice when Bofur tries to give me my ration. "Here lass! Supper for you!" He kneels before me, but when I don't move from my position he falters a bit. "Lass? Everything alright?" I sniff. "I'm alright Bofur, just not hungry right now," I manage to get through all but the last before my voice breaks. Of course that gives me away, and the next thing I know Bofur's calling for Oin.
"Oin! You need to check out the lass! I think she might be sick!"
"No Bofur! It's alright! Really!" I finally raise my head, showing him my red and swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "Just leave me be." I reach out my hand for the forgotten food, but Bofur pulls it away. Even in the dim light I can see his wide and surprised eyes trained on my face.
"Mahal lass! You really are sick!" By now the two of us have caught everyone's attention, and Thorin strides over, taking the spot that Bofur quickly vacates for him.
"Aspen?"
His hard eyes search my face, but they soften a fraction at whatever they see. "I'm okay," I tell him, Bofur, and a hovering Oin. "I'm not sick, just lonely."
I try to give them a convincing smile, but it doesn't seem to work. Bofur's brow furrows. "How are you lonely? You're surrounded by the company!"
"Bofur have you actually seen anyone make an effort to speak to me? Try to get to know me? Ask me how I'm doing? Even say good morning to me? I'm traveling, surrounded by people, and yet I have never felt more alone in my life! I have no one to talk to, and I'm miserable. Completely miserable."
All that's heard after my outburst is the steady drip of rain on the leaves. Bofur finally says, "But you said you didn't trust us lass." I shake my head. "That doesn't mean you can't talk to me. And if y'all want me to trust you that's a good way to start. But you won't let me even begin to build that trust. Every time I try to talk to one of y'all, you nod your head politely and try to leave as soon as possible! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? I know I'm not always the most talkative person around, but I at least need acknowledgment and validation as a human being!"
By now tears are falling down my face again, and the dwarves look decidedly uncomfortable. There is silence for a few moments, until Bofur says with guilt in his voice, "Then I'm sorry for not trusting you lass. We still don't know the first thing about you, but I suppose we could have asked." "Yes, you could've."
Throughout the whole exchange, Thorin has been silent, but now he says, "Bofur, Oin. Give us space." The two dwarves do as they're told, and soon Thorin and I are relatively alone. "Aspen, I do not care if you talk with the company, but say nothing of your foreknowledge. It still is not the right time to share that information with them." I nod, and Thorin seats himself beside me. He holds out his hand, which has my food share in it. "Eat. And then we will need to talk about the coming weeks."
I agree, and Thorin lets me eat in peace until I finish. Then he begins, "So far we have had no troubles on the road, but I do not trust that it will last long. Is there anything coming in the near future that I should be aware of?" I think for a second, then respond, "I remember there being trolls. The company was captured by them, and Gandalf had to trick them into staying outside until sunrise. Afterwards y'all found the troll hoard and took a couple of things, but I don't remember very much beyond that."
Thorin's face hardens again at the mention of trolls, and he murmurs to himself in a strange tongue. Then he looks up at me and says, "Get some sleep Aspen. You will not be on watch tonight." Then he stands after nodding me a good night, leaving me to myself. I settle down between the roots of the tree I'm under, and slip into a fitful doze, in which my family moves across the country, leaving me all alone.
