Author's Note: *creeps in* Um, hi. Yeah...I'm evil, evil, evil for not updating for this long, and to be honest, my excuses suck, so I give you this chapter in exchange for my life!

Title: The Lost Lady ~ An Unexpected Journey

Author: Princess Kanako

Pairing(s): Thorin/OC, possible Kili/OC and Fili/OC if I get around to it...those two are so cute!

Date Submitted: 5/1/14

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit or any of its affiliates; they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien

Claimer: I do own Aiyna, a few plot ideas, and any other characters that pop up along the way.

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Drama (story of maturation – psychological/mental/physical development – of principal character)

Summary: He turned his head to look down at her, his expression, for one moment, open and unguarded – he looked uncertain. And she couldn't stand that look on him, so she smiled and said, "You may have lost your inheritance, Master Oakenshield... but you haven't lost any of your pride." For just one tiny second out of time, she saw the ghost of a smile curl one side of his mouth – and then his expression smoothed out. "I suppose, in that, Miss Baggins, you are correct. I do have a great deal of pride."


The dwarf at the door was unlike the others, he stood with great purpose and had an air of power about it. He was very tall, and his long, dark hair, laced with traces of silver that glinted in the moonlight, hung in waves around his face. The drape of his cloak showed he was broad-shouldered, and solidly built. Aiyna peeped out at him from behind - well, she wasn't quite sure of the dwarves' names yet, but he had a chunk of axe embedded in his forehead.

"Gandalf," he said pleasantly, stepping inside and removing his cloak. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door."

"Mark?" Aiyna repeated, as Gandalf shut the door with a click, "There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!"

"There is a mark; I put it there myself," Gandalf interjected sheepishly, clearing his throat at the look Aiyna shot at him, "Aiyna Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

"So, this is the Hobbit," Thorin said softly, circling Aiyna in a way that made her feel very uncomfortable. "Tell me, Mrs. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"It's Miss," Aiyna said pointedly, folding her arms. "And I'm not a-"

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?"

"I fail to see why that's relevant."

"Thought as much," he scoffed, turning to the others, "She looks more like a tavern girl than a burglar."

The dwarves all laughed, patting their leader on the back. Aiyna fumed as she met Gandalf's gaze.

"He makes quite the impression doesn't he, my dear?" he asked innocently.

"I don't like him," she stated baldly, pointing a finger at the Dwarf leader. "You, sir, are a judgemental pig." She huffed, crossing her arms and pushing her way to the kitchen as his face darkened. "And unfortunately, since you're a guest, I've to feed you." The company stood in shocked silence as an audible "Dammed dwarf." snaked its way out from the kitchen where their hostess banged utensils around as she made something or other for their leader.

A while later, Thorin tucked into a small bowl of soup and a hunk of bread, while Aiyna sat sewing in the corner again, her face pinched in displeasure.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" Balin asked after he took a draught of his ale, "Did they all come?"

"Aye," Thorin replied, taking a drink of his own ale. "Envoys from all seven kingdoms."

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? " Dwalin asked as the others murmured their joy. "Is Dain with us?"

Thorin shifted uncomfortably in his chair before replying, "They will not come. They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."

"You're going on a quest?" Aiyna asked amid the groans of disappointment, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Aiyna, my dear, let us have a little more light," Gandalf requested. Putting her sewing down, Aiyna slipped into the kitchen and returned a few moments later with a candle, just as Gandalf was spreading a large piece of parchment on the table. "Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain," Aiyna read over Gandalf's shoulder.

"Aye," Gloin said amid groans of people who'd heard this more than once. "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time."

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold," Oin explained, "'When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.'"

"What beast?" Aiyna asked, her fingers clenching.

"Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age," Bofur explained, "Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks, extremely fond of precious metals-"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is," she snapped, sitting down and threading her needle yet again.

"I'm not afraid! I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!" Ori exclaimed, standing up. The others jeered at him.

"Sit down!" Dori scolded, pulling the young dwarf back into his chair.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin snapped. "But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best." He paused. "Nor brightest."

"What did he say?" Oin bellowed over the ruckus his kinsmen were causing.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!" Fili bellowed, thumping his fist on the table.

"And you forget, we have a wizard in our company," Kili enthused, "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time."

"Oh, well, now, uh, I-I-I wouldn't say that, I-" Gandalf stuttered. Aiyna smirked from her corner. Let the wizard squirm. It certainly appeased her temper.

"How many, then?" Dori asked.

"Uh, what?"

"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!"

Gandalf embarrassedly started coughing on his pipe smoke; while the dwarves started bickering again. Aiyna rolled her eyes.

This lot just love to go at each other's throats, don't they?

She jumped as Thorin leapt from his seat in anger and bellowed something in a language she did not know. In any case, it shut the rest of the company up.

"If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too?" he snapped, his gaze flying around the table. "Rumours 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?"

"You forget: the front gate is sealed," Balin said in clipped tones amid the cheers of the others. "There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf said, producing an ornately wrought key from thin air.

"How came you by this?" Thorin said in a hushed voice.

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now," he replied, handing over the heavy key to its new owner.

"If there is a key, there must be a door," Fili said cautiously.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls," Gandalf explained, pointing at a section with strange letters Aiyna had never seen before with his pipe.

"There's another way in!" Kili murmured reverently.

"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." The wizard sighed, his eyes scanning the parchment before him. "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar," Ori piped up.

"Hm, a good one, too," Aiyna agreed as she stooped to pick up her sewing again. "An expert, I'd imagine."

"And are you?" Gloin asked. The room was still, every eye fixed on their hostess as she blinked at Gloin in a decidedly confused manner.

"Am I what?"

"She said she's an expert!" Oin crowed, as several of the dwarves whooped and cheered.

"Me?" Aiyna almost shrieked, dropping her sewing to the floor. "No! Absolutely not! I'm not a burglar; I've never stolen a thing in my life."

At least, I don't think I have.

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Miss Baggins," Balin concurred, "She's hardly burglar material."

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves," Dwalin said in a condescending tone as the dwarves started bickering. Gandalf, his expression thunderous, rose from his chair. The candles flickered and died, casting the room into darkness as a chill wrapped itself around each member of the company gathered.

"Enough! If I say Aiyna Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar she is." Gandalf sank back into his chair, as the candles flickered back to life and the chill left the room. "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, a glint in his eyes. "You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Miss Baggins. There's a lot more to her than appearances suggest, and she's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know," Gandalf flicked a glance at the girl in question, who looked torn between laughing herself silly, or lunging across the table and strangling him with his own beard."Including herself." He met Thorin's gaze again. "You must trust me on this."

"Very well. We will do it your way," Thorin conceded. "Give her the contract."

"Gandalf!" Aiyna protested as Balin held out a sheaf of paper towards her. "What's this?"

"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth," he said calmly.

"Funeral arrangements?" she squeaked, taking the paper with shaking fingers. As she stepped out of the room to read the contract, Thorin leaned toward Gandalf.

"I cannot guarantee her safety." Thorin murmured.

"Understood."

"Nor will I be responsible for her fate."

"Agreed."

"Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Fair enough," she muttered to herself, "Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to la-cer-ations? Evisceration? Incineration?"

"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye."

"Ah."

"You all right, lass?" Balin asked sympathetically.

"Don't ask," Aiyna groaned, rubbing her forehead and cursing her vivid imagination.

"Think furnace with wings."

"Um-"

"Flash of light, searing pain, then Poof! you're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

How is it that he can sound so cheerful about this?!

"I-" she swallowed, as every gaze rested upon her. "I'm going to need a minute or two."

She turned and bolted out of the room. Gandalf groaned as he rose from his chair.

"Ah, very helpful, Bofur," he groused at the miner, who looked sheepish.


Gandalf found her sitting outside the front door, her head cradled in her hands.

"Another headache, my dear?" he questioned, settling himself beside her and taking a puff of his pipe. She nodded slowly.

"I get them a lot," she explained, her voice muffled. "When I try to remember, or when my imagination runs away with me." She paused. "I'll be all right, just let me sit quietly for a moment."

"I believe you've been sitting quietly for far too long," Gandalf replied calmly.

"I know I have," Aiyna said after a moment. "I want to be in control of my life again. I want to know who I was. Aiyna is who I am. But I'm scared of the person I may become...I know nothing of my life before I woke in Master Bilbo's home. The Shire is my home now."

"I remember a young Hobbit who always was running off in search of elves and the woods, who'd stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies." Aiyna blinked up at him through her hair, wondering just what he was getting at now. "A young Hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. You, my dear, are a great deal like that young Hobbit."

"How on earth did you know I'm always running off into the woods?" she asked, genuinely curious, and more than a little spooked. Gandalf chuckled.

"An educated guess, my dear. But the answers you seek are not in your books and maps; it's out there."

Aiyna bit her lip.

"I can't just go running off into the blue. I am a Baggins, of Bag End."

"If you are claiming Bilbo's blood as your own now, then you are also a Took. Did you know that Bilbo's great-great-great-great-uncle, Bullroarer Took, was so large he could ride a real horse?"

"Yes," Aiyna sighed, having heard the story before.

"Well he could. 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 a hundred 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."

"You made that up," she said, a smile creeping onto her lips. She heard the wizard chuckle beside her.

"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?" Aiyna asked, her voice small and childlike as her eyes met Gandalf's.

"No," he replied after a few moments. "And if you do, you will not be the same."

"That's what I thought," she said quietly. "I'm sorry, Gandalf. I need to think this through for a while longer."

The wizard nodded kindly before standing and making his way back to the dwarves inside. Aiyna curled in on herself, resting her head on her knees as she considered the choices before her.


To be continued. Please review!