Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. This is Tolkien's world. I'm just living in it.

Through the Inferno

Chapter 2: Party Pooper

I was inside Bag End. I was inside Bag End. I was standing in the entrance hall of Bag End. I was in Bilbo Baggins house: Bag End. I was in Bag End. I was there, inside Bag End. I was standing in Bag End. Bag. End. I was inside Bag End. I stood there, in Bag End, in the entrance hall, of Bag End, absorbing the fact that I was really there, in Bag End.

I am standing in Bag End. I'm really here.

Bilbo stared at me as I stared at everything. I studied the stone tiles on the floor and the paneled walls. I memorized the furniture and decorations. I took in everything I could. I would have been satisfied to stand there longer, but Bilbo coughed and I blinked. I hadn't noticed the tears that were pooling in my eyes. I really was a complete Tolkien nut. Time hadn't erased my love for the story, the characters. I smiled at the Hobbit a little sadly before following him into the kitchen. As I moved, I heard a soft scratching noise and my smile widened. I glanced out the window and saw Gandalf peering through a window at me. He grinned back at me before continuing on his way.

"How long have you been without a home?" asked Bilbo awkwardly as he set out some tea and cake. I sat down and poked a little at the small piece of dessert before me.

"Define home," I sighed. Bilbo scoffed and I realized I sounded like Gandalf. "I'm not trying to be clever. Home can be used for different things. Sometimes it just means a place to stay, but some say, 'Home is where the heart is.'" Bilbo thought about it a moment before nodding.

"Alright," he said. "How long has it been since you've had a place to stay?" Of course, he politely avoided the more personal question.

"Just today," I said. "I was… well, that's a story for another day."

"And the other?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"How long is it since you had a real home?" I blinked and leaned back in the chair. I thought for a while and Bilbo let me sort out my mind.

"I guess… it's been about four years now," I said. "Give or take a few months." Bilbo's eyes filled with sympathy and he placed an extra plate of cakes on the table. I smiled and took one that looked like a cinnamon cake.

"How long have you been at Bag End?" I asked, turning the conversation away from myself.

"My whole life," came the answer I already knew. "It's… it's home for me." I smiled and nodded.

"It's amazing," I said. "It's so inviting and beautiful. I hope I can find a place like it some day." Bilbo smiled at my compliments. I grinned back and took a bite of the cinnamon cake.

"Just eat it," she said and stuck the forkful of food in my face.

"No!" I said stubbornly. "It's going to ruin my appetite! I need to save room for dinner!" I gritted my teeth as Emily tried to stab the fork into my mouth despite my protests.

"Screw your stupid healthy stuff!" she said. "Cinnabon is the food of the gods."

"No, it's not! Greek and Roman gods ate ambro-"

"I know what the gods ate," she scoffed and tried to shove the piece of dessert into my mouth again. "Just like you knew I was being facetious. Now EAT."

I glared at my best friend briefly before opening my mouth slowly. Em and I had been fighting for the better part of ten minutes over whether or not I would eat the cinnamon bun with her. She had worn down my resolve through nagging and carefully getting bits of icing inside of my mouth. The sweet taste had made my willpower crumble and I obediently ate the food she shoved in my mouth. Em watched me with a surprisingly evil smile. I savored the amazing taste. Emily was always getting me to try new things. She liked to, as she put it, help me stick my head out of my shell.

"This is amazing," I said after I swallowed down my bite of cake along with the lump in my throat. I sipped a little tea to calm myself. Bilbo looked at me with concern.

"Thank you," he said. "It's one of my mother's recipes." I smiled sadly and stared at the cake.

"It reminds me of… of my home," I explained. Bilbo nodded. I finished off the cake and moved onto the next piece. This cake wasn't as mouthwatering, but at least it didn't bring up memories of anyone. I finished it off and focused on my tea. I smiled into my cup, remembering the part in The Hobbit where someone asks Gandalf if he wants tea, and he asks for liquor. Then in The Fellowship he asks for, "Just tea, thank you." I sighed contentedly, engulfed in my favorite story. I was happy, genuinely happy, for the first time in a long time. My bubble burst when I remembered what would be coming soon.

"Oh, um, Mr. Baggins?" I said carefully. Bilbo looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes?" he said. He no doubt had caught my tone.

"Um," I tried to figure out the best way to word it. "I think we should prepare a lot of food for tonight." Bilbo blinked at me twice before cocking his head slightly.

"Why?" he asked. I gnawed on the inside of my cheek.

"Well, Gandalf is… Gandalf. He's forced one person on you for tonight, and I think he might have interpreted that as an open invitation for… I just think it'd be best to cook up a lot of good food."

"Do you know something?" he asked warily.

"I know Gandalf," I said.

"But you only met this morning."

"He only heard of me this morning. He, however, has a bit of a reputation." Bilbo groaned and rested his head in his hands. I felt bad for him, but I knew that as soon as the first Dwarf started eating I would be laughing my head off. Laughing… well, being in Middle Earth was like therapy; for free, if you didn't count dying and immense pain as a payment.

"Well, how many people do you think Gandalf will be bringing?" he asked from his hands. I thought about that for a moment. Hobbits ate a lot. Dwarves ate a lot. If I simply told Bilbo to expect around thirteen people, would he cook enough? Then again, these Dwarves would be feasting.

"Maybe… sixteen?" I decided. Bilbo lifted his head out of his hands. His eyes were wide and his mouth was opening and closing like a fish.

"Sixteen?" he gasped. I shrugged sheepishly. "I can't fit that many people in my kitchen!"

"We could rearrange the furniture," I suggested.

"No!" Bilbo silenced me with the harshness of his voice.

"It's just a possibility," I said quietly and stared at the table.

Why are you backing down like this guy has authority over you? He's just a Hobbit! Yeah, but this is his home, and it's Bilbo Baggins. I want to be polite to this guy.

My inner conversation with myself was interrupted by Bilbo sighing. I looked up at him as he rubbed a hand over his face.

"Thank you for the warning," he said. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"It's alright," I said. "I can't blame you for not wanting any more visitors." He smiled a little and made a sound of agreement. He stood and tugged on his suspenders. A grin spread over my face. Bilbo looked like such a Baggins.

"Well, food for sixteen will take a while to make," he said.

"I could help," I suggested. I was pretty good a making amazingly greasy dishes, especially if bacon was involved.

"Oh, I couldn't ask that of you!" he protested. I stood and held a hand up, silencing him.

"Trust me, if I don't help, the others will. And you do not want them in your kitchen." Bilbo looked a little worried, probably because I had used Gandalf's ominous description from earlier: the others. He was right to be concerned. So far, things were following the movie pretty closely. I loved watching the Dwarves throw food and chug ale, but Bilbo would be sick at the sight of them.

"Oh, alright," he said. "What kind of meal do you think they'll want?"

"Can you prepare a feast?" Bilbo gave me a look as if to ask if I had seriously just asked him that question.

"I'm a Hobbit," he answered. I grinned at him and he responded with a proud smirk.

Exhausted, Bilbo and I sank into two armchairs in his living room. We had cooked enough food to cover two tables. Even then, the plates were crammed together and overlapping. We had each taken a small piece of food and nibbled at it as we gave our sore legs a rest.

"Hobbits sure can feast," I said breathlessly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bilbo smirk as he chuckled.

"That would probably feed two of my cousins and me," he said. "After all that work, I think I could eat all of it."

"I know what you mean," I agreed.

"You made some dishes I've never seen or heard of before," Bilbo mused. I quirked and eyebrow and turned to him.

"Such as?"

"Well, I've never coated pork in bacon."

"Then you have not lived, my friend." Bilbo smiled and finished off the roll he was eating. I bit into the flesh of the apple in my hand, not nearly as fast an eater as the Hobbit. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Bilbo looked at me with wide eyes. I had suspected he didn't fully believe that he would have uninvited visitors. He had probably agreed to cook all the food because he was, after all, a Hobbit. Bilbo stood and walked quickly to the door. I stood and followed him. They had begun to arrive.

Bilbo opened the door and was greeted by a sour looking Dwarf. I grinned at the sight of the bald warrior. He was strong and tall… oh, great, a Dwarf was taller than I was. I had always been short, but that moment was a new all-time low. Dwalin looked from me to Bilbo before bowing.

"Dwalin," he said, "at your service." Bilbo made a little squeaking noise, almost like a hysterical chuckle.

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours," he responded. Dwalin straightened up and looked at me expectantly.

"Oh! Um," I said and bowed awkwardly. "Blair Yoon, at your service." Dwalin grunted and entered the house. He tossed his cloak and weapons into my arms before heading down the hall. I stood there with a stupid look on my face, trying to understand what had just happened. Carefully, I hung up Dwalin's cloak and set down his axe before following Bilbo and him to the kitchen.

"Is it down here?" he called.

"Is what down where?" asked Bilbo.

"Ah, I see that it is." Bilbo looked at me incredulously as the Dwarf proceeded to settle down at the table and stuff his face noisily. I shrugged and found I couldn't keep a smile from appearing on my face. Bilbo looked disgusted at the noises coming from Dwalin. I heard a crunch and wondered if he had bitten a fish's head off like he had in the movie. Judging by Bilbo's expression, he had.

"Drink," grumbled Dwalin in my direction. I looked at him and then at Bilbo.

Does he think I'm a servant? I mouthed. Bilbo shrugged and walked away to get Dwalin a mug of ale from the keg we had brought out earlier. Dwalin looked at me with raised brows as he shoved a biscuit in his mouth.

"Are you the lady of the house then?" he asked. I shook my head. "Servant?"

"No," I sighed.

"What are you then?"

"A female," I replied sarcastically. Then I explained, "Gandalf wanted me here." Dwalin looked like he was about to say something, but Bilbo chose that moment to place the ale in front of his guest. Dwalin forgot his words and gulped the drink loudly. Bilbo looked at me with disbelief and I smiled again.

It's about to get a lot worse, I silently warned him. The door bell rang and the Hobbit's eyes bulged. I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing.

"That'll be the door," announced Dwalin. Bilbo scurried off to let the next Dwarf in. I smiled fondly. I knew it was Balin.

"Oh!" said a new voice followed by a laugh. Balin strode into the room and towards Dwalin, who stood at the sound of his brother's voice. "Evening, brother!"

"By my beard!" exclaimed Dwalin with a chuckle. "You're shorter and wider than last we met!"

"Wider, not shorter," corrected the older Dwarf. "Sharp enough for both of us." He winked at his brother before they laughed together. I mentally prepared myself for what was going to happen. I could do this. I could keep it together. They grabbed each other and head-butted just in time for Bilbo to see. I could hear him sputtering beside me as I held in my laughter. I should have received an award for keeping myself under control.

"Ah, excuse me," said Bilbo, "sorry, I hate to interrupt, ah, but the thing is… I'm not entirely sure… you're in the r-right house." Balin and Dwalin proceeded to ignore everything their host said, instead focusing on the food and alcohol. I leaned against a wall and watched with great amusement as Bilbo followed them around, offering explanations and apologies. Just as Balin accepted an apology, the door rang.

"I'll get it," I told Bilbo. I tried to remember who came next as I approached the door. For the life of me, I couldn't figure it out. I opened the small green door and it revealed two young Dwarves.

Are you kidding me? Are they all going to be this tall? They're not supposed to be tall, I thought as I took in the sight of Fili and Kili.

"Good evening, miss," said Fili as he stepped forward. He took hold of my hand and kissed it lightly. I raised my eyebrows.

"Evening," I said. He entered the house with a cheeky grin on his face. What a charmer.

"Fili, at your service," he continued before following the smell of food. Another hand wrapped itself around mine and I turned to see Kili kissing my hand.

"Kili, at your service, miss," he said with a wink. I smiled mischievously at the legendary "sexy dwarf".

"Blair, at yours," I replied before we both headed towards the food. We reached Bilbo and Fili just as the blonde Dwarf told Bilbo to be careful with his weapons.

"It's nice," said Kili as he examined Bag End, "this place. Did you do it yourself?"

"Er, eh, no, it's been in the family for years," stammered Bilbo. His tone changed completely when he saw Kili wiping the mud off of his boots and onto an old chest. "That's my mother's glory box! Can you please not do that?"

"Is this your wife?" asked Fili as he pointed at me.

"No," Bilbo and I answered at once. "Gandalf wanted me here," I continued. The brothers looked as if they were going to ask a flood of questions, but Dwalin thumped into the hall.

"Fili, Kili," he said and grabbed a hold of the younger Dwarf. "Come on, help us start this feast."

"Mr. Dwalin," said Kili, with a kind of reverence. I almost smiled, but I was getting out of my comfort zone. Despite living in New York, I was rarely around crowds. I didn't lead a double life like in comic books. I spent all my spare time training to fight, to stay alive. The rest of it was spent in the shadows. I was never very outgoing, but after four years of very little interaction with groups other than fighting them, I wasn't going to be the life of the party. I stood off to the side and watched as the four Dwarves appraised the meal before them. I noticed how Balin and Kili seemed set on the bacon-covered pork. I felt a little smug as I heard the doorbell ring for the last time that night. Bilbo looked at me with despair and I tried to smile reassuringly at him.

"That should be the last of them," I said. He groaned and headed off to open the door. A small smile spread over my face as I heard the Dwarves yelling and falling into Bag End. The rowdy bunch poured into the kitchen, followed by a rather happy Gandalf and a sour Bilbo. The Dwarves all started yelling and fighting to get at the food before sitting down. They didn't try to be any quieter. I sat on the right at the end of the table and watched everyone interact. They were all close friends, catching up after the years. Slowly, I felt the high of being in Bag End leave me. It was hard seeing everyone else so happy, so familiar. My lonely thoughts were interrupted by Kili walking across the table with mugs of ale in his hands. The Dwarves laughed and threw a few things at him before he reached his seat and hid from their attacks. He passed the mugs to his brother and Bomber.

"Bottoms up, lads!" someone called, and they proceeded to chug their drinks. It was at that moment, a moment that had me giggling in the theater, that I felt completely alone. Just watching them drink at once… it was like they were all united, all bound by their friendship and loyalty. And there I was, hunched over an empty plate while I sipped at some water. I felt utterly empty. Gandalf, who was sitting close by, noticed me. I willed him to be distracted. I didn't want to hear him asking me if I was alright. I saw him open his mouth, and whatever he had planned to say was cut off by a chorus of burps. Gandalf looked a little taken aback by the noises, but his eyes looked like they would fall out of his head as Ori let out the loudest belch I had heard in ages. I couldn't help but smirk a little, but the void inside me quickly consumed my amusement. I hated getting like this. It always happened when I was still for too long. I had to keep myself busy, training or fighting. If my mind wasn't occupied, it became very dark. The Dwarves laughed heartily and it made the emptiness even more painful than before.

I noticed the Dwarves getting up and gathering up their plates. I watched Gandalf and Bilbo argue as Ori approached the Hobbit with his plate. I sighed and pulled my hood up. I wasn't in the mood for their inevitable song. I watched as plates flew around and listened to their cheerful singing. I smirked. If I had been in a better mood, I would have joined in. Em and I had always loved to sing. Of course, I had to go and think of her. She would have been singing at the top of her lungs and laughing at Bilbo's face. Instead, I was there, silently watching everyone.

Then, a sound echoed through Bag End. Someone was knocking heavily on the door. Everyone fell silent. Gandalf stood.

"He's here," he said.

A/N: Aw poor Blair. Guess every vigilante has to start somewhere, and the traditional beginning is to loose everything you love. Maybe you'll find out the whole story later... But slow build going on here, guys. Patience.

New POV next chapter! I wonder who's eyes we'll see through next? (I'm about as subtle as a firework in your face wow.)

To my new follows/favorites: I am so happy to see you here. I am so thankful for all of you.

ShannonTheAwesomeOne: You truly are awesome oh my goodness you beautiful person. I cannot thank you enough for your lovely reviews. I hope this newest chapter is to your liking!

PassiveResistance: If my OC seems capable of standing alone in the story with no romance at all... I have done my job. Thank you so much. I haven't seen Kick Ass, but hey, if the hero is like Blair maybe I should check that out. Wouldn't it be interesting if Blair got stuck in Middle Earth with... well, no use in giving away everything, am I right? All shall be revealed eventually.

xSiriuslyPadfoot: When I first came up with the idea of Blair, I was trying to figure out how a girl from our world could hold her own in Middle Earth. I figured she'd have to be a Tolkien fan, maybe to the extreme. And then I thought about all the OCs I had read about and I realized that most of them look the same: you know, the pretty long hair and intense colorful eyes and all that. So I was like, "Well, I have an opportunity here to do something different." And thus I decided that she should be an Asian American Tolkien fan who was able to fight so darn well because she spend four years of her life being a vigilante in New York. I literally was trying very hard to break the mold with this girl, so I'm really really happy that you see that in her!

RozaLove: Thank you so much! Hey, would you look at that, your wait is over! You'll definitely be seeing more of dorky Blair! Pretty much every time they end up in a new place, she gets her dork on.

Just to give you a visual on Blair, I found out that Miss Korea 2000, Kim Sa-rang, is pretty much exactly how I pictured her. She's almost always cute and smiley, but this one picture I just needed to have a moment because I was like, "This is it. This is Blair."

Please, keep reviewing! Feedback is most appreciated!