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Glitter and Gold

Thorin x OC

by Iland Girl

'for the ones that lost their family, you can always build a new one'

Chapter 2: The Next Adventure

"You must go on adventures to find out where you truly belong" – Sue Fitzmaurice

Song Recommendation: Ashes- Celine Dion

"Do you take anything in your tea?"

"Ah no thank you. Just black." Gandalf said while perched on my loveseat. I handed him the small mug of earl grey and then went to pour my own cup. With milk and sugar added, I returned to the living room before tucking myself onto the armchair. Not the one with my mother's books, but the one across the way from it.

Once we had both settled and took a sip, I took a breath before diving right in.

"Where is she?" I asked carefully. Gandalf had been looking around the room from his little perch, but now his attention was fully on me as I spoke. "Where is my mother?"

"I'm afraid, that the answer may not be so simple as a point of the finger." He took a long and slow sip. I waited; my right leg tucked underneath me while my leg foot's toes tapped the floor in anticipation. Gandalf grumbled, perhaps at my silence or perhaps at my skin peeling stare. I couldn't tell. "It's not a matter of where, but when."

My brows furrowed, I paused in lifting the cup to my lips and lowered it instead. Gandalf watched me carefully as I did so.

"What do you mean by 'when'?" I asked, my head hurting as scenarios ran through my mind.

"Tell me, what do you know of Middle Earth?" Gandalf's words held more weight than their face value, I knew that. I hesitated in saying anything, thinking back to all I knew.

"It's the place in the Tales of Arda books. They were translated by Tolkien, a linguistics professor." He raised a brow, imploring me to continue. "It's a collection of stories from a supposedly forgotten time. Mythology and all that."

"Correct, it is these works that document the history of the world that has been forgotten by man." He glanced at the pile of books my mother had left in her armchair. Amongst them was 'A Hobbits Tale' and 'The Fellowship of The Ring'. Both of which she had read to me as bedtime stories in my childhood.

"So you're claiming this Arda was actually a real place?" I couldn't force the skepticism out of my voice. I wouldn't deny this man must've known my mother, yes, but he seemed a little old for LARP-ing. Gandalf in turn, once again looked affronted.

"Am I not proof enough?" He was quite taken aback as I shrugged it off. At this point, if he could lead me to my mother, I was going to play along. He mumbled something under his breath, though I didn't quite catch it.

"Middle Earth was a very real place. Infact it was one in the very same as your current realm. And it is where you will find your mother."

That last comment piqued my interest. I narrowed my gaze, trying to gauge how much of what he said was truth. Instead of calling him on a farce, I decided to just play along.

"So you mean to tell me that you are Gandalf, the Gandalf, from these stories of- Middle Earth... and that my mother somehow was transported there, and she is still in Middle Earth?" Gandalf seemed pleased that I had collected all my thoughts. I decided to use his own tactics to my advantage and took a long moment to sip my tea. My eyes never left him, even after I finished my drink and just sat staring at him.

"Say I believe you. Say I believe everything you have told me... What is this adventure you want me to go on?" I resettled so that I could cross my legs in front of me, straightening my back slightly. Gandalf drank more tea. I would seem we were in a battle to see who could take the most time answering.

"Tell me, what do you think of the quest for Erebor?" He asked. I snorted, then let out a puff of air.

"I thought it was a bit strange. It's the book that felt most like a story. From the moment Dain slayed Azog, you could tell he was the hero, not Thorin. Which- I dunno, it never sat right with me. The one who reclaimed the mountain, who was their king, and yet... It never felt like his story."

I remembered being tucked into bed while my mother read that story to me. I remember the way she would make faces and expressions, the way she talked about Thorin and the other Dwarves. While Aragorn's and Frodo's stories had always been something with immense grandiose, there was always something about the quest for Erebor that never spoke right. I couldn't remember all the details, but what I could remember was the utter shock I had felt when Filli, Killi, and Thorin all died in one battle. It felt more like a fairytale than reality compared to any other books.

It felt like someone wanted Dain to be king.

"An interesting opinion I must say." Gandalf said in his riddling way, giving neither positive nor negative feedback. I waited for him to explain himself, and finally he did. With one last sip of his tea, he set the cup down on the coffee table in front of him.

"The adventure I had in mind for you, was the quest for the Lonely Mountain, for Erebor." His admission left me a little... perplexed. Perhaps a tiny piece of me did believe him, perhaps not, but to go on that sort of quest?

"Why?" I asked, suspicious. Gandalf sighed.

"You are not the only one who does not like the outcome of this tale." He confessed. I tilted my head.

"Can you not change it them? Guide them on a different path?" There had to be something Gandalf could do? Wizards were practically angels.

"I'm afraid not my dear. There is a limitation to what I can do. I am simply a guide for those of Middle Earth. However, I can... guide certain individuals to Middle Earth." He said things carefully, as though exploring a loophole in a list of firm rules. I snorted.

"So what did you want me to do?" He gave a pointed look. My lips quirked as I realized he wouldn't explicitly tell me anything. "You're not even going to give a hint, are you?"

"All I can do for you is give you a small push out the front door," he said it with a bit of mischief in his eyes. "But I am certain, from what you have said, that you will make the correct choices."

Again with speaking in riddles and not plainly...

"Why now?" He tilted his head at my question. "Why not 5 years ago? The day my mother vanished, why didn't you come to me then?"

Gandalf mumbled again, as though seeking an appropriate response.

"It may not come as much of a surprise, but time travel is not a simple trick. It takes skill and requires... precision. The exact date that your mother vanished was also... undisclosed..." He rambled a bit, and something about the way he spoke told me there was more to the explanation.

I stared into my half empty teacup, debating whether the part of my mind that believed him belonged in the looney bin and the other part of my mind was considering methods of getting this old man out of my house.

As if sensing I wasn't completely convinced of this story he had weaved, Gandalf reached into his robes. He shuffled around for a moment, before retrieving a small box. It was wooden and looked to have intricate carvings. It was hardly the size of his palm, and he held it out with an expectant look.

"I believe this is yours my dear." I stood, crossing the small gap to retrieve the box. Once it sat in my hands, I hesitantly lifted the lid.

Inside were two beautiful white chained necklaces. Each had either a sun or moon pendant that sat together. My breath was caught in my throat when I looked at it.

This had been my mother's. She wore it the day she disappeared. I mostly remembered this because of an old photo I had stared at for months attempting to find a clue. I looked to the old man, stunned.

"Where did you get this?" I whispered, not trusting my own voice. The chains glimmered in the low light of my living room. I gently ran a thumb over the pendants.

If this was indeed the necklaces from my mother, then Gandalf had at the very least seen her after she had disappeared. Maybe he was the reason for her disappearance? No, even if he was what would be the point of this charade?

"She gave it to me, for safe keeping." He said, a light tone to his words. I stared at him, suspicions rising as I started to genuinely consider his proposition.

"Just to make sure we're on the same page... of the same book really... You want me to travel back in time, to this era of Middle Earth. Where things like orcs and dragons exist, where wars are waged as often as every fortnight, and where death lingers around every corner... you want me to come here to... perform a task, one which you have absolutely zero intent on explaining to me, but assume that I will perform said task... all in the name of finding my mother?"

"Yes well it is nice to have it said with such simplicity is it not?" Gandalf said easily. I snorted, shaking my head slightly in disbelief.

What was worse was the fact that more and more of my tiny belief was growing as he spoke. I was beginning to wonder if I could take him up on that offer. Part of me still hesitated, a reminder that I had a life to live.

An empty life, but a life nonetheless.

"How long have you been in this house? How long can you stand to sit quietly? Your mother always spoke of life as a grand adventure. And I imagine her daughter would feel the same." I looked at Gandalf, at the twinkling in his eyes.

And for the first time in five years, my heart ached for the open road. My mother and I had always travelled. My grandparents had living assistance due to old injuries, so we always stayed with them, but mother and I would always travel. Whether just down our road and through the hills, or to entirely different continents. Life had always been an adventure.

"All that is gold cannot stay," she would often tell me. A reminder that everything was fleeting, but you could chase after it if you pleased.

The thought of travel was appealing, of seeing an open road.

"Can you promise me that I will find my mother?" I felt vulnerable, shy even, when I asked him this. Gandalf let out a small sigh, his gaze growing sad. Perhaps it was at seeing my gaze turn soft, perhaps it was something else.

"I promise, you will find where she is," he said barely above a whisper. I choked out a short laugh, not entirely sure why I believed this man. He was probably going to lead me to a crack house, I was probably going to be robbed.

Fuck it, we'll just call it another short adventure.

"Guess I can't think of a reason not to then."

Gandalf seemed pleased, standing slowly before nodding to the door. Then he made to correct himself.

"Perhaps grabbed a bag with a few... essentials would be wise. It may be some time before we properly return." He gave a chuckle as if humouring himself.

I did as he said, dumping out my school bag and filling it with whatever I deemed as 'essential'. For a moment I considered grabbing the 'Hobbit's Tale' but realized it was in the living room anyways. I decided to replicate our last camping trip sans food –assuming we could gather as we travelled. I put in a change of clothes, extra underwear, a pocketknife, a compass, and a few other small items like a rain poncho, fire starters, and a water canteen with some purifiers.

Lastly, I dressed for the occasion, wearing black joggers with an extra pocket on my right thigh, sturdy boots that climbed halfway up my calf, wool socks peeking out the rims. I also decided on layers for the top, considering I had no idea what the weather would be like. I had on a grey tight tank top, a dark green sweater that zipped from my right hip to left shoulder, and a cargo style black army jacket that fell to my mid-thigh.

I had chosen this clothing carefully and prayed it was subtle enough that nobody would really stare. I had not a clue what the fashion sense of the world was, but this would be the warmest, most comfortable, and most subtle clothing set I could choose from.

The last thing I did was put the sun and moon pendants on, hidden beneath my sweater, and pulled my hair into a half braid.

I looked at myself in my bedroom mirror, amber eyes stared back at me. My heart leapt at the brightness in those eyes. For the first time in years, I felt... excited. It took some reminding to say that we probably weren't going on an adventure. We were probably just going into the city or somewhere else. I considered bringing my kitchen knife with me, but as I came back into the living room, I saw that Gandalf was looking at my corkboard. In a spur of the moment decision, I grabbed my sketchbook and some pencils, but as I made to grab the books about Arda Gandalf stopped me.

"I'm afraid you cannot bring those. It would be... most detrimental should they fall into the wrong hands." He said carefully. I had to agree with him, so I shut the backpack before slinging it over my shoulder.

Gandalf looked at me, then grabbed his staff and headed to my front door. I followed, then looked back at the house once again.

It would be here when I got back... when we got back.

"Are you ready?" Gandalf called. I turned to face him and immediately halted my movements.

Gandalf had opened my front door, but a faint glow emitted from the threshold. Tiny sparks seemed to dance along the rim of the door before dissipating into nothing as it branched away. Beyond the door, I could see a light. It was like a small campfire. Even from where I stood, I could hear the faint cracking, and the sight elicited memories of the last time I had gone camping. I looked up to Gandalf, who had an almost smug look on his face. It was as if he knew the whole time, I didn't really believe him.

I took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

I could immediately hear the sounds of crickets and running water. The fire crackling became louder once I was outside. However, I stopped walking the moment I passed the threshold and just looked around. I immediately noticed how much warmer it was than before. Still a bit crisp but compared to a Canadian winter this was downright balmy.

"Ganda- Ah!"

I had tried to turn and speak with Gandalf, only to find the door was not there anymore. Instead, I came to realize I had been standing on a dock, and immediately behind me was just open water.

I fell straight in.

The water was alarmingly cold. I broke back to the surface and gasped for air. In all my struggling to keep afloat with my bag, I realized that I was the only thing disturbing the water. I grabbed the dock and hesitated for a second before slowly wading to the shallows and out. My boots were sloshing and squelching as I stepped through the mud.

"Gandalf..." I grumbled under my breath. "I'm going to throttle that old man."

That fire looked so appealing now.

I grumbled to myself, searching for anyone on my approach. No one seemed to be around, I scoffed.

"Leaving a fire unattended huh? Poor campground care." I said as I took off my soaked jacket and hung it on a nearby branched to dry. I did the same to my sweater, but before I could take off my boots to tip them out, I felt something cold and solid press against my neck.

I froze as a deep, suspicious voice spoke lowly from behind me.

"I would explain yourself if I were you."

Hi all!

I'm so excited! This story has almost 200 views and a review already in it's first week! That's pretty friggin' impressive to me. When I first published this story I wasn't sure if anyone would readit since I had no idea what teh fandom was like. So glad I started it though!

I normally don't like to overly describe my characters, so that people can come up with what they think the character looks like, but if I had to pick, I would say Tal looks like Adelaide Kane if she had hair like she did in Reign, Amber eyes, and more muscle. Tal's a gym girl, and a strong one too.

Well, here's hoping to more excitement in the future! I was half asleep when I wrote this chapoter I just NEEDED to write yesterday. I will likely publish the next two chapters soon, then go backa nd review to be sure that the chapters all flow nicely.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Shout out to Maja, my first reviewer~!

See you all in the next chapter!

Bu-bye~