"You are her, aren't you?" Gandalf questioned me, annoyed with my behavior. I merely stared at him from underneath my black cloak's hood, half-listening to the particularly rowdy group of men sitting and standing at the table behind us. They weren't the only loud ones; everyone else in the inn seemed to also be hard of hearing tonight. Perhaps it was the rampant smell of alcohol and tobacco that made them so.

"Why would I tell a Wizard?" I teased him darkly, and the old man now sighed in agitation, unconsciously gripping his staff, which was leaning against the table next to him. I tensed at this, and forced myself to tear my eyes away from the gesture. He looked up as the inn keeper brought us another round of drinks. Setting them down with a nod, Butterbur quickly went to attend to the rowdy group behind us. Watching as Gandalf picked up his tankard and taking a long drink, I followed suit. Gripping my own tankard tightly out of nervousness, my clawed nails dug into the wood, leaving noticeable marks. I raised it to my lips while forcing myself not to shake. Taking a smaller drink than my companion had, my eyes returned to him once I had completely set my drink down. The room was well-lit, and I could easily see the age marks and grey hair that decorated the old Wizard that had searched me out.

"You have one more chance, Charna, to admit to being who I think you are." Clearly during that drink he had collected his thoughts. "If you do not, then I will be forced to proceed with my original plans that involve your brother." This caught my attention; that tricky Wizard! My emerald eyes shined with curiosity as my thoughts took on a darker turn.

He saw this. "Now that I have your full attention, Charna," my name continued to roll off this tongue as a point of itself, "I will inform you that a Company is setting off soon that's goal is to destroy the great dragon Smaug." My eyes widened at this as I unconsciously started to lean forward. Fools!

"And you are telling me this why?" I automatically pressured him, my eyes piercing as they stared into his. We both ignored the inn's rowdy occupants, completely focused on each other. The occupants of this Company must be very sure of themselves; to embark on such a quest is certain death for both them and me alike.

"I want you to join." He informed me and immediately my eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I believe that your expertise on dragons due to your – uh, condition," It's strange how he pauses here and only says it after he had lowered his voice. "Is needed among the Company if we wish to succeed." He informed me. "You will receive up to one fifteenth of the total profit – if there is any, that is – and you will also achieve your goal." He informed me. At least the Wizard realizes that this quest may be futile. The truth may be harsh, but it is still the truth.

"They will die." I spoke gravely, eyeing Gandalf as he watched me in return. "So will I, and so will you, if you choose to go on this quest." I warned him, and he gathered his words before speaking once more.

"That is true." He admitted, and my brow furrowed. "We may very well all die; but we may all very well live as well." Chewing over this statement in my head, I waited for him to continue. "I believe that with or without you we will be able to complete this quest, Charna." He warned me, and my eyes narrowed once more. "However, I am still inviting you to come along." He said audaciously, and I felt the corners of my mouth pull up at this statement.

"There's no guarantee that we will succeed." I stated once more aloud, wondering if this was…worth the risk. I had been after Smaug's life for some time, no longer feeling any familial bond with him. Changing into a human had been the start of the crumbling of our relations.

Our relations had been completely burnt quite some time ago.

"That is true." Gandalf sighed, looking at me as he wrapped his cloak around himself before glancing around us. Trust a Wizard to always be on alert. "Are you not after his life, Charna?" He questioned me, and I automatically started to bristle out of habit at the reminder. He noticed this and continued. "I believe that if you do not go on this quest, then you will not be able to achieve your goal and keep your promise." He said slyly, and I immediately recognized that what he said could be true.

I continued to watch him silently, evaluating whether or not the possibility he had suggested was true. "Can you guarantee Smaug's death?" I eventually asked him darkly, unsure if I was going to be willingly led along by a Wizard of all people.

Gandalf looked at me, and tipped his head to the side slightly as if to give me an obvious fact. "Not without your knowledge, no." My fists tightened at this.

"Why is it that you seek your brother's death, Charna? Were you not raised alongside him as siblings?" The Wizard inquired, watching me carefully. "I may not know much about dragon families, but that has to count for something." My eyes narrowed once more at his deduction.

"It is true; we were raised alongside each other and treated each other how most dragons treat their family; we endured it. However, he has no value for life. This is something I have gained during my time as a human." I explained to him, telling the truth. Smaug has done terrible things over the years, but the siege of Erebor had been the last straw.

I continued, trying to decide whether or not I was willing to let others help me defeat Smaug. "In the time that Smaug has ruled over Erebor no one has ever challenged him." I reflected. "He could've gotten lazy, blunted in his spirits." I doubt this. "However…" The constant red wound pulsated within me, my desire for dragon blood growing so strong I could almost taste it on my lips. "I cannot risk not going on this quest, Wizard." I watched as he leaned back and gazed at me as I stated this.

Lighting his pipe, he took a deep breath before releasing the smoke. "You will join, then?" He queried, eyes studying my face.

"Of course." I told him grimly. "If there is anyone to blame for Smaug's terrible reign, then it is me." The guilt rode on my shoulders – if I had somehow hunted him down after I had transformed, when we were both so young and vulnerable, I am sure that I would've been able to kill him.

"Do not blame yourself for what Smaug has done, Charna." Gandalf told me. I looked at him with surprise. "His wrongdoings are his alone." I blinked, unsure of why the Wizard was supporting me. Now the old man leaned closer to me, and I caught his quiet words. "The Company will meet in Hobbiton at Bag End tomorrow night – find a door with the word 'Burglar' written on it. There both you and our burglar will meet the rest of the Company for the first time; tell no one of it!" He warned me quietly, and I nodded.

Seeming satisfied, the Wizard gripped his staff one more. Standing up, he gave me a single strong nod before departing rather quickly. I watched him go before I raised my hand, rubbing my lips with the back of a bent clawed finger as I thought over what had just transpired.

A company, setting off from Hobbiton in two days' time… Dropping a small bag of gold coins onto the table as Butterbur, the inn keeper, strode past, he instantly took notice. "Will you be looking for a room them, my lady?" He addressed me casually, having been acquainted with my presence yet not my name before. I disliked giving my name out – it was often associated with my backstory, which had long sensed been passed down as a fairy tale called the Tale of Duality. This was a risk I could not take, yet I could not bring myself to create an alias to go by either. My name was my last thing that I had of my previous life.

"I'd also like to pay for the drinks, seeing as my host did not." The Wizard must've known about my small 'hoard'. The term mocked the small yet large amount of gold I had, really. I always had a shine to collect the currency – I assumed it was caused by my primal instincts. Some had dwindled after the forced transformation, others had remained. Butterbur nodded, taking the small bag and starting to walk away. "Ah, Butterbur!" I called after him, causing the man to turn around curiously, come back and lean over in order to catch my words over the racket the others were causing. "Would you happen to know if that old smith is still in business?"

My eyes danced this way and that as I passed various small and circular doors, looking for the word 'burglar', which is supposed to be carved in one. I was beginning to become slightly worried – I had been out searching since midday, knowing how hard Hobbiton is for outsiders to navigate, and I still had not found it. I had visited this place before, but Gandalf had given me no details as to what else to look for – this agitated me. Night had just fallen, and I knew that I would be counted as late and missing if I took much longer. Taking a path that I had missed earlier, I found myself walking up a hill to a more extravagant hobbit house. Noticing the inconspicuous ponies that were being housed in the house's garden, I couldn't help but stare.

My eyes narrowed as I looked at the door hopefully; they then widened as I found a glowing inscription. "This is it." I sighed quietly, approaching the door. I raised my hand, but paused before I knocked on it. I wonder if I should leave my hood up? I wondered, knowing that it unnerved some people. My black cloak was discreet, but it also caused suspicion among those I was forced to talk to.

That along with my black trousers, boots and shirt made me the occasional target of guards. It was often startling to people to see a woman dressed as I was; usually I was looked down on as a prostitute or a ranger. Either way I was given dirty looks – not that it mattered much to me. Humans will always be humans, after all.

Blinking as I decided it was too late to go change into something more…acceptable, I simply nocked on the door. I raised an eyebrow as I heard a raised voice coming my way from the other side. My eyes widened in surprise as the green round door was opened, a very agitated Hobbit appearing on the other side. We stared at each other for a moment, he not expecting a female dressed in preparation for travel, and I for a Hobbit dressed so casually in a robe.

"Charna." I stated my name strongly, and he blinked in surprise. "At your service." I tipped my head politely, knowing that it would be best to help other members of the Company if I was a part of it. I made my way into the house and heard the door close behind me. Glancing back, I paused seeing the Hobbit's questioning face. He clearly wanted to ask me something – he even had his finger up and ready to point at me. "You're name?" I prompted him, and his eyes widened.

"B-Bilbo Baggins, at your service." He finally greeted me before we heard a sudden crash in the other room. Immediately he was in a flurry and hurried past me and into another room, already shouting and yelling. I stared after him, having the strange feeling that whatever he was going to say was going to come up again.

Looking around the Hobbit hole, I quickly realized that the crash had come from the kitchen. I stared into its open doorway, seeing dwarves bustling here and there. The entire Company is likely to be dwarven…save the Hobbit and I. I realized before I silently commended Gandalf's wit. Smaug would not recognize the smell of a Hobbit, something which I had not even seen until recently, taking into effect my age.

My head swiveled as I located a sitting room branching off from the main hallway, and I quickly made my way over to it. Not willing to face the Company just yet, my eyes were caught in a mirror above a burning fireplace. I stood in front of it, working over how I should introduce myself to them as I stared at myself.

Piercing emerald eyes stared back at me. A few strands of my short, chin-length black hair made themselves known as I went to rub at a patch of noticeable dirt on my face, quelling an inch. The hair revealed that it was curly, something which drew many people's attention. It wasn't common among mortals in Middle-Earth. Indeed, it only makes my inhumanness stand out even more… Not that my eyes helped, either. My tan complexion was noticeable, despite the mud and general grime practically caked onto my form – my greasy hair would do well with a wash tonight. Glancing down at myself, I noted that my shoes, as well as my cloak, would have to join me in the bath as well. I hadn't had the chance to wash them at the Prancing Pony, and they were now paying for it.

Looking back out into the main hallway, I debated whether I should wait for Gandalf to introduce me, or if I should do it myself. I was unsure of how Dwarfs would react to learning who I am. Stepping out into the main hallway, I was stopped by the door bell ringing yet again. Am I the only one who knocked? I suddenly questioned, recalling that I hadn't even thought of looking for a doorbell.

Suddenly Bilbo rushed to the door, yelling something about a joke – Doesn't he know that he's going to be a member of the Company? – and opened the doors. My eyes automatically widened as numerous Dwarfs spilled in, falling on top of each other in a groaning pile. I cocked an eyebrow when I noticed Gandalf, who was leaning down low to look into the Hobbit hole.

Bilbo gave him an exasperated look, and I suddenly had the feeling that our Hobbit had not planned on going on this journey – at least not with us. "Gandalf." He sighed, realizing who was behind the ransacking of his home. The Dwarfs managed to free themselves from the pile, several helping the largest – Bombur, I believe they called him – up and onto his feet. Each felt the need to individually greet Bilbo, all giving him the staple of 'At your service'. Quickly he greeted them back, already agitated as the Dwarfs who had already arrived pillaged his pantry.

Suddenly a few of them noticed me while they were waiting to greet Bilbo, and I immediately tensed as they approached me. "At your service!" Bombur introduced himself with a few others, immediately assuming I was Mrs. Baggins. Correcting them, their eyes widened in surprise before I simply tipped my head. At first there was a catch in my speech as I reluctantly gave away my name, but as the crowd slowly dispersed I soon became at least slightly acclimated with giving it away. The reactions had been the same as usual – wide eyes, questioning and of course reluctant answers on my part. We will need to work together, I reminded myself as I attempted to be patient with the other species. Once they were done interrogating me, they all headed to the – that is where all of the dwarves seemed headed, in fact.

Gandalf must've noticed me staring at them. The Wizard nodded once towards Bilbo, who immediately went to save what little of his food stores were left, and then approached me. "I am glad that you decided to come, Charna." He greeted me, leaning an arm on the low circular doorway above my head while he looked down at me after he had closed the door.

"I agreed to come already, didn't I?" I questioned him, already knowing the answer. Gandalf remained silent at this, so I continued. "I had decided to wait until you came so that I didn't have to introduce myself, but as you see I was forced to~" I complained. "However I am still unsure as to how the Dwarfs would react once they've learned of my heritage." I explained. How would they take to a dragon-turned-human in their mist?

Gandalf nodded, looking behind him as a few of the Dwarfs bustled out of the dining area and back into it at another entry way. "That is most likely a wise decision…" He muttered. It was my turn to stay silent. "Keep quiet about it, for now." He advised me, and I watched him curiously. "At least until the leader of our Company arrives."

"And who, if I may ask, is the leader of our Company?" I questioned Gandalf, already having an inkling of who might be leading such a daring, albeit foolish, quest. Gandalf, who had been looking at the Dwarfs as a few bustled past with chairs, looked back at me with surprise.

"I am hoping that age has not dulled your wit, Charna." I raised an eyebrow at this provocation. "I feel no need to state or tell you something that you already know." He stated firmly before he disappeared into the kitchen, helping to set up the table. I stared after him for a few seconds, listening to the racket that the Dwarfs were causing.

So…the infamous King under the Mountain himself will be attempting to retake his homeland? My mental tone was mocking. I can only hope that we succeed… This thought was filled with honesty, if not desperation. "Excuse me, Mrs. Baggins is it?" I blinked in surprise, being forced out of my grim thoughts by a curious voice. Looking at the Dwarf next to me, I straightened up from the side of the wall I had unconsciously been leaning on.

"No, I am not Mr. Baggins' wife." I informed him. Immediately the Dwarf's face went to one of surprise. He had white hair, braids keeping it tight against his scalp as he balanced a tray of strong-smelling tea. "I am a member of the Company – Charna. At your service." I greeted him. The Dwarf's eyes widened further. I wondered how he would react. The others had been surprised, but most of them were dubious that I was connected to the myth.

"Charna – you do not mean the Charna?" He asked me in pure shock. I couldn't help but be surprised at his reaction. Perhaps not all Dwarfs are as distrustful as I thought. I wondered over this revelation before quickly blinking, remembering that I had to respond.

"Yes. I am Charna." I informed him with a note of seriousness in my voice. I was slowly getting used to the general reaction of these Dwarfs, and this had not been the first time I replied like this tonight. The Dwarf still seemed stunned at this revelation, so I continued. Perhaps I could pay him back in kind for not being as dubious towards me. "I am at your service." I informed him, knowing that this was a typical and polite Dwarfen greeting that was accepted on a mission such as this.

"T-The one who-" He stuttered nonetheless.

"Indeed." I stated firmly, attempting to take some of the usual bite out of my voice. It wouldn't do well to be unkind to these creatures – I would reap what I sow.

"I-I see." The Dwarf stuttered before looking down at his tea tray. This apparently reminded him of something, as he looked back up at me. "Would you care for a small cup of Camilla tea, Mrs. Charna?" He asked me, back to his former inquisitive and seemingly cheerful self, and I couldn't help but give him a small stare. I smiled lightly at him, catching myself awkwardly. I don't recall the last time I made a point to be nice to anyone… I realized, unsure of how I felt about this revelation. I wasn't a mean person by usual standards – but I could be cruel when the situation calls for it. Usually I'm indifferent, but I felt that I had to have a bond with the members of this company if we were going to succeed.

"Just Charna, please." Dragons don't give their young last names or titles, which that term implied – rather both are earned through great deeds. This was one of the things that I stubbornly refused to give up from my old life. I don't want to ever forget what I am, I thought solemnly. "And yes, a small cup of tea would be lovely." I informed him quickly, feeling parched suddenly.

"Of course, my lady." The title no longer bothered me like it used to – such things are not used among dragons, and I had been rather dubious of it myself at first. However, seeing that it was part of the world I was now a part of, I had accepted the term easily. I watched him pour the tea intently. Taking the small glass from him when he offered it to me, I began to sip at it. I noticed that he was staring at my clawed fingers, apparently not expecting them. I sympathized with him, knowing the shock. I was surprised when he spoke, apparently having realized that he was caught staring. "Shall you help set up for dinner, my lady?" He queried, and I blinked at this proposition.

"No, I am afraid I shall not." I informed him, finding myself frightened at the prospect. I had long sense what goes where – I'm afraid I'd be afraid of being more in the way than helpful. "I will, however, partake in the meal." At this I turned and retreated into the small den once the Dwarf had nodded and left. Sitting in one of the chairs, I listened to the Dwarfs prepare for a quite rambunctious meal with loud and cheerful voices.

As soon everything was put together, and I found my feet pulling me towards the dining room. Silently and swiftly I stole a place at the end of the table, making my form small as I sat on a chair. Seeing that the others were already pilling food onto their plates, I quickly took advantage of the large meat piled high in front of me. I was extremely grateful when I noticed that there was little vegetation on the table – I not only found the substance repulsive, but I was unable to eat it at all. I would prefer not to force myself to eat it only to get sick later, if at all possible.

"And are you Mrs. Baggins?" A rather rambunctious and young Dwarf suddenly asked me, sliding into the chair next to me and immediately gathering food onto his plate.

"No, I am not Mrs. Baggins." I stated calmly, taking another rather large bite of the meat. The Dwarf blinked in surprise, and I glanced at him. He was certainly young; he did not have a beard, which if I recalled was prized among Dwarven culture. His hair was dark; black, as were his eyes.

"Are you a member of the Company, then?" He asked in surprise. I nodded as I forced myself to swallow.

"Yes; I am Charna, at your service." The greeting was starting to sound more natural coming from my lips.

"Charna?" The Dwarf continued to question, and I fought the automatic tense that happened when I was addressed with a question. Relax, Charna, I tried to calm myself. I stared at my food, my hunger dulled by the topic. "That is an interesting name." He settled with. It was now my turn to look at him in surprise.

"You have not heard of the tale?" I questioned in shock.

"Tale?" The young Dwarf gave me a curious look as he munched on his food.

"Ah, never mind." I realized, suddenly thankful that there were innocents yet in this group.

"Who wants an ale?!" Suddenly another young Dwarf was walking on the table, passing out cups. I was given one as he settled an extra on his plate, and my eyes widened when a toast was suddenly called for. I did not participate; rather I watched all of the Dwarfs bang cups before they all drank – I felt out of place in this group with all of the obviously old friends. The silence was nearly deafening, and I forced myself to chew quieter before I sipped at my drink. I had no taste for the alcohol – I much preferred water.

Then once they had all finished their drinks, they began a burping contest. I raised an eyebrow in amusement as my presence seemed to continue to either go unnoticed or forgotten about; for this I was thankful. Chomping down on the last bite of my food greedily, I felt rather content with how stuffed I was when the Dwarfs immediately started to clean up. I moved out of their way, letting the Dwarf I had been sitting next to take my plate; it had been many years sense I even stepped foot inside of a home of any kind, and I no longer knew many things.

Clearing out of the way, I found myself in a small room that adjoined the kitchen. Hopping up and sitting on the counter, I leaned against the shelves as I relaxed. The dens too far away~ I thought lazily, a hand unconsciously patting my stomach comfortably. Hearing footfalls, I cracked one eyes half-open to observe Dwarfs now making their way in here to munch on little foods that they had missed when gathering for supper. Hearing Bilbo's frustrated voice as he joined us, I watched with amusement as he confiscated a doily from a Dwarf near the entry point.

Said Dwarf let out a snide comment, and I glanced at him with continued amusement. He glanced at me, and our eyes met. He chuckled, and I allowed him a tip of my head with a slight curve of my mouth. "I don't believe I've met you!" He stated, and I studied him curiously. He walked towards me confidently, which was something that I immediately noticed. Indeed, this had been one of the Dwarfs that didn't see me when they first entered. I looked at him expectantly as he stopped at my side. "Bofur, at your service, my lady." He bowed slightly, and I felt my mouth curve even more with amusement – the politeness of the Dwarfs was not one to be mocked, save for how much they prize women. It was a strange and foreign thought to me; I was used to my own rough ways and not the ways of the sheltered. "May I ask your name?" He looked up at me, and I regarded him with intelligent eyes.

"I am Charna, a member of the Company. But then again, you already knew that, didn't you?" I shot a question right back at him. He had been the first Dwarf this evening to not assume I was Mrs. Baggins.

Bofur chuckled. "Right you are, Lady Charna. Dori informed me of your presence." Ah. So that's who the Dwarf that I met earlier was. "But is it really you?" He asked in something akin to awe. I gave him a questioning look. "The Tale of Duality has been passed down through my family for a long time – it wasn't one of my favorites, no offence meant," He corrected himself quickly. "But it just seems so far-fetched!" He exclaimed, and I sighed.

"It does, doesn't it?" I asked him. "That was a long, long time ago." Images flashed across my eyes, but I ignored them. I had long sense gotten over that incident. "But what's past is past." I told him firmly as Bofur regarded me curiously. "And what's done is done." I finished.

"Good answer." Bofur admitted, and I stayed silent as my eyes trailed to stare at the wall in front of me as I shivered from the sudden coldness. It seems like most of these Dwarfs have heard of me…dang! My eyes trailed to Bofur as he became distracted, attempting to steal meat from a Dwarf passing in front of us. The two argued until they disappeared around the bend.

A rhythm caught my ears; I was surprised when I realized that it was coming from silverware being scratched against each other and dishes being thrown. The Dwarfs began to sing, and I listened curiously. Bilbo treasures his sheltered life, I realized by the end of the song. How strange…

A completely alien concept.

I nearly jumped when three loud and strong nocks nearly rattled the Hobbit's door on its hinges. Immediately I jumped down, letting loose a shiver of nervousness before I made my way into the main hallway. I stood by Bilbo, feeling apprehensive for only meeting the Company leader now. Bilbo glanced up at me, both of us exchanging a nervous look as the Dwarfs gathered around us.

Gandalf opened the door, and I immediately felt my barriers rise out of nervousness. A nameless Dwarf strode in; my eyes narrowed suspiciously. Could this be…? "Bilbo, Charna, let me introduce the two of you to Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of our Company." The Dwarf was tall for his species, and easily looked down at Bilbo – however, we appeared to be the same height. For this I was thankful at least. Being shorter than humans, a species I frequently used as suppliers, often led to a sore neck…as well as the occasional assertive presence using their height to gain a 'supposedly' distinct disadvantage over me.

Thorin removed his cloak, handing it to the young black haired Dwarf I had been sitting next to during supper. It was taken almost reverently, and I stared at the young Dwarf before my eyes returned to Thorin. His eyes flicked in between the Hobbit and I, examining each of us. "You said that this place was easy to find, Gandalf. I got lost several times and would've completely missed it if not for that mark on the door." His eyes flicked to Gandalf, who quickly went to shut the door as Bilbo immediately turned around, intent on finding said mark.

"Mark? There's no mark on that door!" Bilbo exclaimed. "It was painted a week ago!" Ouch, Gandalf. I did not understand the pains and apparent principles of owning a door, but this did not seem good.

Thorin glanced at me before he stepped past me, and then proceeded to walk in a circle around the Hobbit much like a predator would stalk its prey. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" His tone was almost mocking.

Bilbo looked surprised. "I'm not a fighter." He answered, standing up straighter.

"Axe of sword?" Thorin continued nonetheless, still circling him. "What's your weapon of choice?"

At this Bilbo looked stumped and immediately began to fiddle with his suspenders. He opened his mouth but clearly thought better of his answer, closing it quickly. He tried it once more before he spoke. "Well I do have some skill in Konkers, if you must know." He responded dryly. "But I fail to see why that's relevant." I couldn't help but stare at Bilbo. Why would Gandalf want such a helpless creature on this quest? I wondered. Such a weakling could get us killed. I wasn't the strongest here by any means – that would by far be the Wizard – but I did have speed on my side, at the very least.

"Thought as much." Thorin responded casually, and my eyes narrowed as I glanced back, seeing the Dwarfs with amused looks. I quickly shot the one I had been sitting next to at supper a discouraging glare, and he looked at me questioningly. I'm sure the Wizard has his reasons. With this final thought my eyes returned to Thorin. "He looks more like a grosser than a burglar!" At this the Dwarfs chuckled, and I was surprised to find myself bristling internally. What's gotten into me? I wondered, becoming concerned with this strange turn of my emotions.

Now Thorin turned on me, and I readied myself. His eyes surveyed me, taking in my black cloak and piercing eyes. "And you are the famous Charna, are you not?" He questioned, his eyes boring into mine while we stared at each other. A flood of silence swamped the Hobbit hole.

"I am." I responded with a strong voice, making sure to show that I wasn't weak and quiet. It wouldn't do well to make such an impression on the leader of the quest the first time we meet… I'm quite sure the fact that it's my brother we're going to slaughter plays a role in it as well.

We stared at each other for several more seconds before he asked me another question. "You're weapon of choice?" He asked me, and I had the feeling that the infamous Thorin Oakenshield was testing me. Once it was realized, the fact was painfully obvious. I wondered internally if he knew of my heritage – I stared at him evenly, my eyes unyielding as we tried to decipher weakness in each other.

"Daggers." I stated simply, not braking eye contact with him. His eyes narrowed – daggers were small tools, and they were unable to be used to block swords very well. They would be unable to block a mace and clubs. They were practically useless. Unless you know how to use them. I thought wickedly.

"Gentlemen!" He suddenly addressed the Dwarfs. "Do you know who this 'woman' is?" His voice boomed, and behind him I noticed Gandalf winced. I prepared myself, expecting nothing good to come of this.

There was a stir among the Dwarfs. Eventually Dori called out. "She is the great Charna, Thorin!" At this the few Dwarfs that hadn't introduced themselves to me looked at each other apprehensively.

"That's right!" Thorin agreed, looking over his companions. "The same one from that tale we all heard as children." Now his eyes returned to mine, steely. "So tell me, oh great Charna," It was hard to miss the mocking edge in his tone. "Did you ever save those people who were transformed?" He taunted me, and I immediately snarled out of anger, stepping closer. Immediately his companions jerked forward as if to stop me, but Gandalf nor the Hobbit made no move to stop me.

"That is not something for a child to mock." I growled at him lowly, glaring at his suddenly confident face.

"So the tale is true, then. It must've hurt when the prince betrayed you, Charna." My name slithered off of his lips like poison, and I started to sneer at him.

"Thorin." The Wizard's voice stopped him from saying anything further. We glared at each other before he left to sit at the table in the other room. The Dwarfs walked around me like water would part around a tall stone, giving me odd looks. I was left, still bristling, with Bilbo as Gandalf followed the group after he gave us – particularly me – a frustrated look. We exchanged a look with each other before we too followed them.

I leaned against the wall closest to Gandalf, looking over his shoulder as the Dwarfs discussed who else would be appearing. It appeared that no one else would be coming – their allies all thought this quest folly, and with good reason.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo suddenly questioned from Gandalf's other side.

"Bilbo!" Gandalf started, apparently not realizing that he was there. If I had not seen the Hobbit stop where he now stood, I would've been surprised as well. Perhaps this creature has more credibility than I originally thought… I slowly began to realize. "A little more light, thank you very much." He directed him. I shifted slightly to let the Hobbit pass before I resumed my position, watching as Gandalf produced a map. "Far over the East, over ridges and rivers, lies a single solitary peak." Bofur leaned in to examine the map along with Thorin, Bilbo and I.

"The Lonely Mountain…" Bilbo read off, now holding a candle that he had retrieved, as I found my eyes piercing the red dragon that was drawn above the mountain. I faintly noticed Bilbo leave to put the candle back.

The Dwarfs immediately went off, talking of legends and such. I only knew one thing – that this quest had to succeed, no matter what. "So… What beast?" Bilbo suddenly asked, standing in the middle of the main hallway.

"Now that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible," I exchanged a glance with Gandalf, and he shook his head 'no' minusculey. "Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." Bofur continued. "Claws like razors, teeth like meat-hooks… Extremely prone to precious metals. " His description did not justice to the might of a dragon. My hands curled as I listened to his explanation. My fingers were clawed, similar to those of a dragon – it was quite noticeable when attention happened upon it.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo wrung his hands nervously as he cut Bofur off.

"I'm not afraid! I'm up for it!" The youngest Dwarf suddenly sprang up, proclaiming foolish things loudly. "I'll give him a taste of the Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!" Immediately the Dwarfs started to yell and argue things as he was pulled down by one of his elders.

"The task would be hard enough with an army behind us!" A white haired and elder Dwarf spoke up now. "But we number just thirteen…and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest." He said gravely, and I couldn't help but let a little chuckle escape me. The Dwarfs immediately all started to talk at once, displeased by his comment, before the one that had passed out ale earlier spoke.

Slamming his fists on the table, quickly everyone's attention shifted to him. "We may be few in number, but we're fighters!" He encouraged his companions as I noticed the young dark haired Dwarf sitting next to him, shaking his head in agreement. "To the last Dwarf!" He yelled, and there were cheers of agreement.

"And you are forgetting that we have a Wizard in our Company! Gandalf must have slayed hundreds of dragons!" The dark haired Dwarf complained, and I openly gagged on my spit. Gandalf?! Slay a dragon?! Dear…dear me… The Wizard would never be able to slay a dragon on his own – even I realized that.

Quickly recovering, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and looked down the table at the young Dwarf. "Now, now." Gandalf started. That combined with my little show of emotion, we now had the complete attention of all the Dwarfs. "There is a reason we have a female among our Company, Young Master Kili." He informed him as I learned his name. All eyes were now on me curiously, and Gandalf continued.

"You see," He paused, gathering his words. "Charna is not only a legend passed down through families at bedtime. There is a part of that tale that is missing…" He gave a long pause, each other eyes roaming the Dwarfs, expecting some sort of outburst. "Charna is a dragon." You could hear a pin drop.

Gandalf and I exchanged a glance, and I continued the story. "I was born a dragon." I proclaimed loudly. "I was Smaug's sister; we were raised together as siblings. Our nest was attacked; our Mother was slain by a Wizard donning green cloth. Smaug was able to flee – I was not. For whatever reason, the Wizard, being of shocking strength, decided to turn me human." I explained to them, a grave atmosphere taking ahold of the room.

"Charna has been living for over five thousand years." Gandalf continued as the Dwarfs stared at me openly. "She has the body of human, and the lifespan of a dragon." He elaborated. "She has sworn her hatred for Smaug and will do anything to end him!" My eyes trailed over the group, daring them to prove me wrong.

"And why should we believe this tale?" Thorin asked, not even glancing back. "How do we know that she is not lying and will betray us to Smaug? Could she not easily turn back into a dragon at will and steal Erebor from us just as we have slain the beast?" He continued, and instantly the Dwarves around the table started to grumble amongst each other loudly. I immediately set out to stop this at once, knowing that a company had to work as a functioning unit.

"That dragon, in the Tale of Duality – who do you think it was?" I asked him icily, and the entire room seemed to still. "That was Smaug, Thorin. You'd be a fool to keep believing it wasn't him." I taunted him, and he was silent. "I am also unable to transform into a dragon – I am locked inside of this…human body." I paused before extending my hand over his shoulder, showing off my clawed fingers. The nails were the color of steal, and they were wicked sharp, matching Bofur's description at least somewhat. The claw wrapped around underneath of my finger with a small arch before jutting out in a natural slightly hooked form. Thorin merely eyed my hand doubtfully as the others stared, distrust and other emotions swirling inside of their eyes. I withdrew my hand, my sleeve falling to my wrist as I let my eyes meet the Dwarves around the table in some sort of challenging manner before another Dwarf spoke.

"That's why you want to defeat Smaug," The Dwarf next to Kili spoke. "Because he – the tale." He finished somewhat awkwardly, as if suddenly remembering the tale itself.

"Yes." I informed him. Thinking of the past only brought bad memories. "Smaug has done terrible, terrible things. Things that cannot be forgiven." Never will I forget the look of that stone, no matter how much time passes. It was truly beautiful… In a sick, twisted sort of way.

"Rumors have begun to spread." Thorin started, and I looked down at him curiously. "The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people lies unprotected! Eyes look East to the mountain, wondering, weighing the risk. Do we sit back, or let others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance, and take back Erebor?!" He yelled, standing and waving his fist. Immediately the other Dwarfs began to cheer, all agreeing with this.

"You forget! The front gate is sealed!" The same white-bearded Dwarf from earlier spoke again. "There is no way into the mountain." He stated gravely as Thorin sat once more.

"That, my dear Balin," Gandalf started. "Is not entirely true." Producing a key suddenly from his sleeve, I admired its craftsmanship before I saw the other Dwarfs staring at it as well.

"How came you by this?" Thorin asked hoarsely.

"It was given to me by your Father, by Thrain. For safekeeping." He offered the key to Thorin. "It is yours, now."

Thorin took the key, examining it carefully. "If there is a key," The Dwarf next to Kili spoke. "There must be a door." He suggested, confused as to where another entrance might be.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls." Gandalf explained, using his pipe to point at the small red mark on the map.

"There's another way in!" Kili said thankfully, looking at the Dwarfs near him.

"Well that's if we can find it!" Gandalf reminded him. "Dwarf doors are invisible when closed!" He sighed, looking down at the map. "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map," he gestured. "But I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-Earth who can." He reassured us. "The task you have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage." He told Thorin before looking at Bilbo. The Hobbit gave him a questioning look, and Gandalf continued, averting his gaze in favor of looking at the Dwarfs. "But if we're clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar!" The young Dwarf from earlier proclaimed.

"Hm! A good one, too." Bilbo suddenly said. "An expert too, I'd imagine." I had to physically withhold a sigh at his foolery.

"And are you?" One of the Dwarfs queried, and Bilbo continued to pull at his suspenders.

"Am I what?" He suddenly asked with wide eyes, not knowing what he had just told the group.

"He said he's an expert!" The same Dwarf complained, laughing soon after.

The group erupted into cheers, which Bilbo quickly cut short. "H-Hey, I'm no burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my life!" He proudly proclaimed.

"I'm afraid I'll have to agree with Mr. Baggins." Balin confessed. "He's hardly burglar material." He said grimly. Bilbo nodded in agreement at this.

"Aye," a larger Dwarf spoke up. "The Wild is not a place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fiend for themselves." Bilbo once again nodded in agreement as the Dwarfs started to mutter amongst one another.

"Enough!" Gandalf suddenly boomed. I automatically flinched away, retreating to Thorin's other shoulder as the Wizard expelled energy, growing taller as the corner he was in grew darker. I eyed him both suspiciously and nervously, expecting some sort of attack. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar," His echoing voice started to diminish as he shrank to normal size. I slowly started to relax, but did not place myself closer to the Wizard again. "Then a burglar he is!" Sitting down once more, he continued. "Hobbits are incredibly light on their feet! And while the smell of Dwarf," a pause and a quick glance at me, "and while the smell of Dwarf familiar to Smaug, the scent of a Hobbit is entirely unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." He convinced the group. Bilbo quickly went to contradict him, but silenced himself quickly, apparently thinking better of it.

"You asked me to find the fourteenth and fifteenth member of this Company," now Gandalf directly addressed Thorin. "And I have chosen Mr. Baggins and Charna. As for Mr. Baggins, there are a lot more than appearances suggest. And he has a great deal more to offer than any of you know!" He admonished us. "Including himself." He finished by looking at Bilbo, who looked ready to reject all notion of a wild life. "You must trust me on this." He spoke lowly to Thorin.

The King under the Mountain – who had no mountain – took a moment to decide. "Fine. We'll do it your way." He agreed. "Give them contracts, Balin."

Balin brought forth the two contracts, detaching them from each other as Bofur loudly proclaimed 'We're off!'. I quickly took mine from Balin himself, not giving Thorin a chance to slap it into me like he did with Bilbo.

"Just the usual." Balin assured us. "A summary of out of pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth." I walked into the hallway, letting my contract unfurl naturally. I skimmed over it as I listened to Bilbo.

"F-Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo stuttered.

I was now the one to respond to him. "People have a tendency to die when they try to slay dragons, Bilbo." I used a simple voice, almost mocking him gently. He glanced at me but ignored the possibly rude comment, instead favoring to stand at my side as we both went through our contracts. Unlike me, he took the time to flip open the panel that described all the wounds that you might be dealt on this journey.

"One fifteenth seems fair." I muttered to him as he continued to read. He shrugged, and I tipped my head in response.

He mumbled something under his breath, which only became clear at a few words. "Laceration…Evisceration…Incineration?" He stressed, looking back at our future companions.

"Oh my!" Bofur agreed. "It'll melt the flesh off of your bones in the blink of an eye." Bilbo now closed the small flap, putting his hands on his legs and crouching slightly.

"Y'alright laddie?" Balin questioned.

"Yeah." Bilbo agreed, leaning over and breathing out before straightening back up. "Feel a bit faint."

"Think 'furnace, with wings'." Bofur advised and I gave him a skeptical look from underneath my hood. "Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!" He exclaimed in a cheery face, and I couldn't help but stare at him.

Bilbo took a deep breath, holding it in. Shifting his feet, he released it and took another breath as he tried to calm himself…or imagine what Bofur had suggested. "No." He stated simply before falling over much like how a pulled tree would. I blinked at this new development before I looked at Bofur with a raised eyebrow.

"Goodness, Bofur!" Gandalf admonished him, standing. I watched as the Wizard quickly picked up the Hobbit, taking him into the den which I had hidden in not long ago. Looking back at the Dwarfs, I saw that they were all dispersing. What now? I wondered idly before I heard a small cough behind me. Turning around, I was surprised to find myself face-to-face with Kili and the Dwarf he had previously been sitting next to.

"I don't believe we've properly met, my Lady." The nameless Dwarf informed me. All I could do was nod. "I am Fili, Kili's older brother – don't mind him though." He chuckled, putting a hand on Kili's shoulder.

"And as you already know," Kili shot a look towards his older brother. "I am Kili. Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Charna." He greeted me.

"Just Charna is fine." I told them, feeling relaxed in some sort of strange predatory way. I was expecting to be cornered by a few members of the Company later – it would be expected now that they know of what I really am… Or what I used to be.

They exchanged a glance before nodding. "All right! Charna it is!" Kili smiled largely before the duo walked off. I stared after them, unsure of what had just transpired. Jumping slightly at a tap on my shoulder, I spun around again to see another Dwarf that I didn't know the name of yet.

Sighing as I relaxed onto the chair, I settled for pulling out one of my daggers to examine how sharp it is. Noticing little imperfections here and there, I quickly retrieved the whetstone from a pocket on the same belt that I had retrieved my dagger from, which was looped around my waist. I began to sharpen it to my liking. All of the Dwarfs that hadn't greeted me before had felt a need to introduce themselves to me after the meeting, and I had just finished the small session. Most of them are still doubtful that I'm telling the truth. I dryly thought. Not to mention the general distrust they now hold because of my family line…

Sliding the stone along the length of my dagger, I let myself semi-relax as I listened to the noises around me. I was sitting in one of the back bedrooms, having escaped to it once I had been unable to relax even a little in the other's presences. People were quietly talking – it wouldn't be long now before they all lied down to rest for the quest, which would officially start tomorrow.

Hypnotized by my own thoughts as I watched the whetstone slide along my blade, I was surprised when a shadow appeared in front of me. I jumped and my eyes immediately shot up to stare into Thorin Oakenshield's.

They immediately narrowed.

He gazed at me steely, and I had the feeling that I had the most to prove to this man.

Realizing that he was offering something to me, I took it. Looking at the parchment, my eyes widened once more when I realized I had misplaced my contract. Sighing, I immediately stood up from the bed and silently made my way over to the desk in the corner of the room, sitting in it. Taking a quill pen and dabbing it in ink, I scraped some of the excess off before I neatly wrote my name on the document as the candle light flickered on the edge of the desk.

Charna

Going to stand up, I was surprised when a strong hand on my shoulder prevented me from doing so. I looked up in shock only for my emerald eyes to meet Thorin's cold and unforgiving ones. "If I ever," I unconsciously shivered at his icy and threatening tone. "Even think that you're betraying us," His eyes pierced mine, and I instantly started to glare back at him not with hate, but guarded eyes. His presence and manner of speak were frightening to me – I was acutely aware that he would be able to beat me if we were to fight. However, I was still unable to let myself show weakness. I had to prove myself somehow, and this most definitely could and will be a start. "Then I will kill you." He threatened quietly, and we stared at each other.

Thorin grabbed the contract off of the desk, loudly walking out of the room. He left the door open.

I stared after him, still lost in thought. I feel as though it's a puzzle. I suddenly registered. A dragon – Smaug's sister of all people, I was aware of the small smile that had wound itself onto my face. Helping him… Kill the dragon that stole his home…

I stood up, walking to the door and closing it. I leaned my back against it, my head tipped up as a full smile graced my face.

The idea is laughable.

Author's Note: So… The first official chapter! xD Got you on the first one, didn't I? I hope I did…but not in a bad way! I'm curious as to what you guys think about my character – good? Bad? Any kind of opinion in general? They're all welcomed. :3 This story will hopefully be updated every Wednesday, but I can't make any promises due to the chapter sizes that I want – until then, avoir!

Also, depending on the review content and number of reviews I receive, I may or may not continue this. I am unsure as I have suddenly been slapped upside the head with an idea for another story in the Sherlock BBC fandom. :3

Chapter updated on 12/2/13 (I made it more realistic – altered hair, skin complexion, and attitude along with catching previously missed grammatical/spelling errors :3)