Amelia's eyes fluttered gently, and she fought against the drowsiness that was threatening to overpower her. She felt light and at peace, and all her worries seemed to fade away. She couldn't even remember them.
She did, however, know that there was something she was upset about. What it was she didn't know, but there was a gnawing feeling in her gut that demanded her attention. As she tried to worm her way through it, to figure out what it addressed, she felt her drowsiness slowly slip away.
Oh yeah, she remembered. Attacked by orcs. Company of Thorin Oakenshield in my house. Got knocked out.
Which led Amelia to the question of where was she now?
"Hello child."
Amelia gasped and scrambled to her feet, her eyes raking around her. She stood in a great hall of carven stone, with high vaulted ceilings that bore intricate carvings. Sitting in a throne at the head of the room was a man with long brown hair and twinkling eyes. Clothed in carefully wrought armor, a blood red cape billowed from his shoulders, draping over the arm of his throne.
"Who-who are you?" stammered Amelia. Her voice was small and timid, a quality that seemed to amuse the man.
"I am known by many titles," he told her. "Aulë is my true name, but perhaps you may recognize the name Mahal."
Amelia's mouth all but fell open, and she was sure her eyes had widened to the size of dinner plates. "Oh my god," she murmured.
Mahal chuckled softly. "Sit," he commanded. Amelia followed the finger he pointed to see a stone table set up to the side, a large bowl of fruit ready to be eaten. "A gift from my wife," Mahal explained.
Amelia licked her lips. She never turned down free food, especially when it looked that good, but she didn't know what he would ask in return for the meal. Why was she here? Where was here? And, perhaps most importantly, what did he want from her? She highly doubted that she was here- wherever here was- for purely social reasons.
"Where am I?" she asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she cleared her throat. Summoning up her courage, she tried again. "Where am I?" she demanded.
Mahal smiled. "You are in Valinor," he told her.
Amelia gulped. "Why?" she asked. "What's going on?"
"You have been brought to me by Lórien," Mahal told her. Amelia nodded; Lórien was the master of dreams. Which meant she was dreaming.
Mahal hadn't finished speaking. "I have asked for you to be brought to me, for I have a request to make of you," he told her.
Amelia gulped. Here it was. The big question. What would happen if she refused his demand, whatever it was?
"What?" she asked.
Mahal tilted his head slightly, inspecting her. "Are you religious?" he asked.
Amelia bit her lip as she thought. She didn't want to answer such a personal question; no matter what the answer, someone was always bound to be offended.
"I'd rather not say," she said at last. Although Mahal didn't seem to like her refusal, he did at least seem pleased that she'd been honest in her answer.
"There are gods," he told her. "Not for all worlds, and there are different gods for each universe, but there are gods. In Middle Earth the Valar are what you would call gods."
Amelia nodded. "Are there gods in my universe?" she asked.
Mahal pursued his lips in a small smile. "That, my dear, is not for me to answer." He sighed, and when his eyes refocused on Amelia, the playfulness had gone from them. "The worlds are failing," he told her.
"Failing how?" Amelia had no idea what that meant, but whatever it was, it couldn't possibly be good. The growing worry on Mahal's face did nothing to quell her fears.
"A darkness is spreading," he told her. "Evil grows strong in the hearts of the universes, and it slowly takes over their inhabitants. The gods in each world are fading, the Valar included." He lifted a broad hand, and Amelia saw that, unlike the rest of him, it was growing wrinkled and feeble.
She gulped. Was this real? Surely it wasn't. What he was telling her was preposterous. Yet she had already decided that she needed to strongly reconsider what her opinion of the truth of things was. Still, her mind just couldn't quite grasp it.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.
Mahal sighed and stood, crossing with softly thumping steps to her. Amelia fought back a flinch as his weathered hand came to rest upon her shoulder.
"You will fight this," he told her. "You will travel from universe to universe, fighting the spreading evil."
"What- me?" Amelia backed away, holding her hands up. "How? Why me? Isn't that what the Istari are for?"
Sorrow filled Mahal's eyes as he took her in. This girl, barely out of her youth, who would have no chance to enjoy her life as she should.
"The Istari's duty is to Middle Earth, and Middle Earth only," Mahal told her. "They cannot be absent to wander different worlds. As to why you," he repeated. "I have chosen you because you possess a rare heart. A rare drive. I believe you will be resistant to the evils that spread. As to how," and now the Valar's eyes dimmed further, "we shall bless you with several gifts."
"We? Gifts?" Amelia dumbly repeated his words. She didn't like the way he was looking at her, and highly doubted the term gifts was accurate.
Mahal nodded. "The Valar," he stated. "We shall preserve you throughout time, as well as transfer you to where you must be."
Amelia frowned. "Hold on," she said. "You're talking immortality. And- and traveling between universes. Is that how the company got to my world?"
Mahal nodded. "Yes," he said. "And I am sorry." Again he stepped forward to clasp her shoulder in his hand, and this time, Amelia didn't move away.
"What about my family?" Amelia asked. Her mind filled with horror at the thought of what Mahal was asking of her, causing her voice to come out as barely even a scratchy whisper. "I can't leave them. I won't. No! Pick someone else."
Her legs began to shake even as her voice rose in desperation, and Mahal led her to the stone table and sat her gently down. Amelia clasped her hands together, fighting her labored breathing and the tears that were pushing at her eyes.
"I cannot," he stated. "You have been chosen; there is no going back."
Amelia's breath shuddered in and out of her throat. She knew the implications of what Mahal was saying. She would have to leave her family. She would travel from place to place, without a home, without anyone or anything to call her own. She would live for centuries, millennium perhaps. A long life plagued with loneliness and what she could only assume was a great deal of fighting.
"I- I can't," she stammered. She gave up on holding back her tears, and Mahal patted her back gently, seeming unsure what to do about the sobbing girl in his halls.
"You can," he pressed. "It has been seen." Still Amelia sobbed, and he sighed. "You defended your brother," he reminded her. "Now you shall defend the worlds."
Amelia sniffled. "I killed them," she whispered. Suddenly the full realization of the orcs she had killed flooded down upon her, and she looked down at her hands, half expecting to see them stained in the black blood still. "I killed them!"
"They did not deserve to live," Mahal told her.
Amelia glared at him. "Who are you to make that decision?" she spat. "You're no better than they were."
She stood and moved away, and Mahal made no move to follow her. He took in her narrowed eyes, the way her hands were clenched into fists at her side, half raised in readiness to fight.
"There is your fire," he murmured. He smiled softly, and Amelia's eyes widened as she took in his words.
"I can't," she persisted. Even as she defended herself she felt the weakness of her excuses. She could feel her denial of her situation slipping away, little by little. "I'm not- I'm not a warrior. I'm just some kid."
Mahal laughed. Loud and booming, it reverberated through the halls. "You are far more than you believe," he promised her. "In time you shall see."
Amelia gulped. "I really don't have a choice, do I?" she whispered. As Mahal shook his head she felt her energy drain from her, and she hurriedly sat again before her knees could buckle.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. He came to sit beside her again, bringing the bowl of fruit with him, and for lack of anything better to do Amelia picked up a pear and bit into it. It was sweet and ripe, and the familiar taste helped to soothe her. As her nerves began to calm at an unnatural rate Amelia wondered if someone had put something in the food. Even that worry was swept away, and Amelia was left feeling oddly placid. With that placidity came an acceptance of her fate. She wasn't happy about it, not in the slightest, but she resigned herself to the fact that there was nothing she could do about the fact.
"Can I ask you something?" she started. She had been sitting in a comfortable silence with Mahal for several minutes, the two of them picking at the bowl of fruit together.
"Of course," he rumbled. Amelia wiped a bit of berry juice off her fingers, using her pants for lack of a better napkin.
"Why are you the only one here with me?" she asked. "I would think the other Valar would want to be here too. Or the gods from the other worlds."
"We cannot traverse to worlds where we hold no domain, even in dreams," Mahal told her. "The same is true of the other gods. While you are in their universes, they shall act as a link between us and you, allowing you to retain your immortality, but they cannot breach the walls of the universes. Neither can the Istari," he added. "You shall be a new race, the only one who can travel between the worlds."
Amelia felt like she should feel special, but all she felt was heavy with the weight of the task being forced upon her. She was to be completely alone, in all respects. "But I don't live in your universe," she objected. "So how are you speaking to me?"
Mahal grinned. "The mind is a fragile thing," he told her, "especially when unconscious. The Istari you know as Gandalf the Grey was instructed by us to open your mind to outside touches. From there, the gods of the worlds banded together to bring your subconscious to Valinor."
"If I'm the only one who can jump between universes, how did the company get to my universe?"
"An exception was made," Mahal told her. "For this occasion their world could spare them for a small time, but it cannot happen again. Their fates directly influence that of Middle Earth, and they cannot be lost in other worlds."
Amelia snorted. "So you picked me because I'm expendable?" she asked. A tinge of annoyance rose within her, but it was quickly swept away.
Mahal didn't answer, but he did hurry to grab an apple from the bowl, busying himself with inspecting it for blemishes.
"You seem to be breaking a lot of rules for me," she stated.
Mahal's brown eyes met Amelia's piercing through her as though reading her soul. "The fate of all things rests on your shoulders," he reminded her. "If some rules must be broken to prepare you for your task, then so be it."
Amelia gulped, quickly averting her eyes. An uncomfortable silence settled over the halls, and Amelia wracked her mind for something to break it.
"Why Valinor?" she asked. "Why didn't you gods bring me somewhere else?"
Mahal shrugged. "The gods of the other universes decided that since your role in the fates of the worlds was our idea, we should be the ones to contact you."
Amelia snorted in amusement. "So you gods are basically a bunch of squabbling children?" she joked. "Fighting over who has to do the chores?"
She blinked in surprise a moment later; she was more comfortable with Mahal than she should be. Again she wondered if there was something in the fruit, but as soon as the worry entered her mind it was again swept away.
Mahal threw back his head and laughed at her question. "Yes," he admitted. "Yes, I suppose we are." Then his mouth dipped into a frown. "The task of communicating with you from a different world," he cautioned, "is not an easy one. It takes much effort to hold the link now; we will not be able to do so again."
Amelia nodded, storing the information in the back of her mind. "And why aren't the other Valar here?" she asked.
Mahal shrugged. "We felt that all of us at once would be overwhelming for you," he stated. Amelia shot him a glare, and he chuckled. Perhaps his definition of overwhelming needed work.
"So why were you the one to come?" she asked. "Isn't Manwë the head of the Valar?"
Mahal nodded. "For that answer," he told her, "you have but to think over who fought the orcs in your house. My children hold a special liking for you, and I thought I should meet you in person."
Amelia's eyebrow quirked up at this, but the Valar's mention of the dwarves in her home brought upon her another thought.
"They're going to die," she murmured.
Mahal shrugged. "Everyone dies," he reminded her.
"You don't," she retorted. "I won't," she added a moment later, and her voice was heavy with sadness.
Mahal sighed. "The future you have read in your books is but a possibility. Think of it as bits and pieces of the events of Middle Earth leaking through the walls to your world. It was absorbed by writers and scribes, who added to it and made it their own."
Amelia turned startled hazel eyes to him. "So they don't die?" she asked. "In the Battle of Five Armies, and at Moria, they won't die?"
Mahal pursed his lips. "That," he declared, "is for you to decide. You are in a unique position. You know parts of the future, and have the power to change that which you know." Now he turned hooded brown eyes on her. "You must do so wisely, if you choose to," he cautioned. "For if you stray amiss, all shall fall to the darkness."
Amelia gulped. Should she chance it? She had all but fallen in love with the company and fellowship while reading their stories, and wanted to spare them their fates. But would it be worth it? What might her actions change; what good things in the world would never live as a result?
Mahal stood, crossing the room to the throne he had earlier vacated. Amelia stood and watched him settle into the stone seat.
"You have much to think over," he told her. "And it is time you woke. I bid you farewell, for now. When this is over, as it shall one day be, we will meet again."
Amelia blinked, confused. Then the throne room she stood in began to fade, the strong grey of the stone fading and turning paler and paler. As everything turned white she closed her eyes.
"Why hasn't she woken yet?"
Oin sighed and all but shoved Kili back as he started forward again. The dwarf's eyes were fixed on a small bed pushed against the wall of the house they were in. Curled up in the bed, unresponsive to the world, was Amelia.
"I do not know," he admitted. The orc attack had left her with two broken ribs, and though she had showed no sign of internal bleeding, Oin was beginning to worry. He masked it though, again pushing Kili back. "Do we ever really know with her? Give her time."
Kili ground his teeth, but as Fili and Thorin stepped forward to draw him away he allowed them to do so. Bombur sat at the fireplace hewn into the wall, cooking a pot of stew over the flames flickering there. As Kili was shoved into a seat the round dwarf thrust a bowl into Kili's hands, and obediently he began to eat.
Oin moved to Amelia to check over her once more, then made his way to where her family sat. During the day they had interacted with the company, Amelia's father prying them for details of their quest the way a young dwarf begged his father for stories of great battles, but as time had passed and a forlorn mood had settled over the group waiting for Amelia to wake, the three had retired to a corner of the room. Huddled together not far away from Amelia, they scanned around them occasionally, as though they still couldn't quite believe what was happening. Jack, Amelia's brother, sat between his parents, and as Oin approached the youth watched him with wide brown eyes.
"How's your arm lass?" he asked. He knelt down beside Amelia's mother, resisting a groan as his old joints creaked, and took her bandaged arm in his hands. He unwrapped the bindings, inspecting the injury carefully, then applied a fresh salve and rewrapped the slash.
"How is it?" she asked. Though her hazel eyes were wary, her voice small, Oin had seen the way she had charged the orcs in her house. Desperate to defend her children, she hadn't even bothered with seeking out a weapon. Oin had recognized the same fire within her that permeated the Phoenix.
"It will heal," he promised. The woman nodded, and her eyes flickered over to where her daughter slept.
"How's Mia?" asked her father.
Oin pursed his lips, unsure of what he should say. The Phoenix would keep the seriousness of her condition to a minimum, not wanting to worry others, but the girl curled up in the bed, Oin reminded himself, was not the Phoenix. Not yet. As of now she was still a child, and her parents had the right to know what was wrong with her.
"Her injuries aren't severe," he told them. "But she hasn't woken yet. I don't know why."
"Can I see her?" asked Jack. Oin bit back a smile as Jack's eyes went to his older sister, love clear as day in them. Oin reached over to ruffle the boy's hair, and was rewarded with a scowl that was half playful.
"Let her rest," he commanded. "When she wakes and has eaten something you can see her."
The family nodded, and Oin hauled himself to his feet and went to join the rest of the company. He had been keeping everyone away from Amelia while she slept, not wanting them to disturb her. The only one allowed near her, with the exception of himself, was Gandalf. The wizard in question sat near the door now, surveying the inhabitants of the house with brooding eyes.
Bofur stood to bring the trio at the back of the room some stew, and Oin accepted a bowl from Bilbo, who sat leaning against Thorin. They ate in silence, their eyes continuously moving to the still form of Amelia. Still she slept on, oblivious to the world around her.
Several hours passed. At last the company began to bed down, exhausted from their battle earlier and lack of sleep. Only Kili remained awake, volunteering to take first watch. He wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway.
With everyone asleep, there was no one to keep him from approaching Amelia. He examined her in the darkness of the house. He could see her arms poking out from the blankets draped over her, and found himself running his eyes over the smooth skin. Skin unmarred by scars.
Her face was also different. Not quite as hard as Kili knew it; especially in sleep, she looked so innocent. So peaceful. The notion brought tears to his eyes, and he hurriedly wiped them away.
He settled down in front of the bed, leaning against the cot as he glared at the door, bow in his lap. It wasn't the best place for the watchman to sit, but it was the only place he wanted to be.
He twisted as the bed creaked behind him, and a moment later a pained whimper reached his ears. He turned to see Amelia clutching at her chest, fighting back waves of agony. The sight of her in pain and surrendering to it so easily brought fresh tears to Kili's eyes.
"It's alright," he murmured. He reached out to take her hand, and her hazel eyes snapped to meet his.
"Kili," she breathed.
Kili gulped. The sound of his name on her voice after so long was like music to his ears. He forced back the flood of emotions that were running through him. This wasn't his Amelia. This Amelia didn't know him.
"Hello," he whispered. He shifted so that he was sitting more comfortably, happily noting how her fingers curled around his.
"Where are we?" she asked. "Where's my family?" She started to push herself up and whimpered in pain, falling back into the bed. When she tried again Kili sighed and helped her to sit, and she slipped to the floor to sit beside him.
"Some abandoned house not far from yours," he answered. "Your family is fine. They're sleeping." Amelia nodded, following Kili's gaze to where her brother was curled up in between her parents. Kili sighed. "I'll get you something to eat."
He stood and moved away before she could respond, dishing out the leftover stew into a bowl. The company had made sure to save some for her, and though it was now cold, Kili knew it would be better than nothing.
Amelia ate silently, leaning slightly away from him. Kili sensed that although she knew who he was and trusted him, she was uncomfortable around him. Shy. The idea made him bite back a quick laugh.
"How do you feel?" he asked. Amelia simply shrugged, giving a wince of pain at the motion, and he sighed. She was so stubborn. At least that was familiar.
"How long have I been asleep?" she asked.
Kili thought for a moment. "A while," he said at last. "It's been a whole day since the attack."
Amelia's eyes widened a fraction at that, and Kili could see her mentally berating herself for having slept so long. He bit back a chuckle as he watched her, ignoring the painful squeeze of his heart.
"You were very cute," he offered. "I think you drooled a bit."
"What?" Amelia's voice became unnaturally shrill, and Kili had to clamp a hand over his mouth to quiet his guffaws. Amelia's eyes narrowed as she realized he was joking, and she overcame her bashfulness just long enough to give him a playful shove.
"Kili?" The two turned to look at Fili as the dwarf lifted his head. In the dark Fili couldn't quite make out his brother, and he turned his head from side to side, uncertain as to where the younger dwarf was. "Kili, who're you talking to?"
Kili bit his lip. He knew his brother was worried about Amelia; everyone was. Yet he could see the panicked look in her eyes, and knew that the last thing she wanted at that moment was the entire company swarming around her.
"Myself," he called. From across the room Fili sighed.
"Try and get some sleep," he called. "I'll take over watch."
"No," Kili said abruptly. He winced and forced his voice into a calmer tone. "It's fine; I'm not tired."
Again Fili sighed. "You really should sleep," he murmured tiredly.
Kili didn't respond, and soon Fili's snores filled the air.
"Thank you," whispered Amelia. Kili nodded without looking at her. He would never regret his feelings, but the knowledge that she didn't know him, even if it wasn't her fault, tore at his heart.
Amelia frowned. Something was off about Kili. She knew he and his brother were the pranksters of the company, Kili especially so, yet the young dwarf was being uncharacteristically serious. He seemed so sad. Amelia couldn't help but think it had to do with the way he'd looked at her in her house.
She pushed it to the back of her mind though. She needed to sort through her dream of Mahal, and all that she had learned. She wrapped her arms around herself, thinking back over what she had been told.
"What do you know about me?" she asked at last. Kili glanced over, surprised, but after taking a moment to think answered her.
"I think it would be best if you told me what you know," he said. The Phoenix had always stressed that those who knew the future tried to change it, and it had only been after she had departed from the company that he learned that she had been referring to herself. He didn't know how this version of Amelia, so young, would take the news of her future. He didn't want to risk telling her something he shouldn't.
Amelia gulped. "I had a dream," she whispered. "A dream of Mahal." She ignored the way Kili's eyes widened, pressing on. "He told me I have to travel between universes; that I have to save them."
Kili nodded. "That is most of my knowledge of who you are," he told her. "You never spoke of your life much, though you told me a few things."
Amelia's eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply. "You've met me before?" she asked. "Future me?"
Kili nodded. "I don't think I should say how; I think that's something you would yell at me for, but I will tell you one thing. When I first met you, you travelled under the name Phoenix."
Amelia's eyebrows drew together. "Phoenix," she repeated. Why that name? She supposed that she would need to choose something else to call herself in order to hide who she really was, but why hadn't she picked something more normal? And if she were to pick the name of a mystical creature, she would pick a dragon. Dragons had always been her favorite.
But she was talking to a dwarf. A dwarf who she knew had grown up hearing tales of the dragon who had stolen his home. Who had then joined with the group curled up throughout the room to slay said dragon. Amelia could see why dragon would be a bit of a touchy name to pick.
"Where are you in your timeline?" she asked. When Kili looked at her in confusion she elaborated. "I assume you've started for Erebor by now, but how close to the mountain are you?"
Kili bit his lip again. "I don't think I should say," he told her. His voice was sorry, but it did little to quell the frustration rising within Amelia.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
This, Kili could explain. "We were brought here," he told her. "By the same force that allows you to travel between the worlds. Somehow the orcs discovered your origins, and they came to kill you before you can become the Phoenix. We were sent to keep you safe."
Amelia nodded, keeping her face blank as she mulled over the words. Did that mean Azog was in her world? The thought of the pale orc running through the streets sent a shiver up her spine, and thinking she was cold, Kili draped a blanket from the bed over her shoulders.
"Are you ok?" he asked. Amelia gulped, but didn't answer. How was she supposed to answer that? Kili seemed to realize the absurdity of his question, because instead of pressing her for more answers, he simply scooted closer to her. Amelia was shocked as his arm came to wrap around her, but found that its weight on her shoulders was rather comforting. She didn't pull away, but leaned against him in the dark. She allowed herself to sink into her broodings of her future, letting Kili's presence anchor her in place.