"To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world. You are surrounded by adventure. You have no idea of what is in store for you, but you will, if you are wise and know the art of travel, let yourself go on the stream of the unknown and accept whatever comes in the spirit in which the gods may offer it." Freya Stark
"Becca?" A hand was in my shoulder, shaking it roughly. I moaned softly in my sleep. "Becca!" My shoulder shook with the effort of the person jiggling it. There was a pause, then a sigh. "Rebecca Evangeline Green, wake up right now!"
I bolted awake and into a sitting position, staring over at Faye, who smiled at the fact that she'd successfully roused me from my unconsciousness. And then everything came back at me in a rush- the lights shutting off, the noises, the wind, and then me blacking out. I groaned and my sister pulled me to my feet, her hazel eyes filled with worry. We were standing on the top of a grassy hill, with a few trees at our backs and a small dip right in front of us.
"Becca?" she questioned, confused. "What happened? Where are we?" She paused, biting her lip and glancing down at us. "What are we wearing?" My lips lowered into a frown as I looked down, taking in my appearance.
The plain grey t-shirt and loose black sweatpants I had been wearing had vanished, replaced by medieval-style clothes- brown wool leggings, a brown leather best over a pale blue blouse, and a pair of knee-high brown leather boots. There was a large leather pack lying on the ground near my feet, bulging slightly as if it was stuffed full, and when I picked it up and slung it over my shoulder it was heavy. My hair had been changed as well, in a long copper braid down my back instead of its usual messy bun.
Faye had also changed clothing, almost exactly the same as me. Brown leggings, a brown leather vest- jerkin- and a blouse, though hers was forest green instead. Her feet were in black leather boots that reached her mid-calf. There was a leather pack already on her back, and her long light brown hair- courtesy of our father- was in a high ponytail. I bit my bottom lip in thought, looking down at our changed appearances.
While I was doing that, Faye had moved to look over the edge of the little hill we were standing on. I followed her and gasped. Before us lay a strange little town, each house a small hill with a round wooden door and a small garden in front. My eyes widened at the picturesque beauty of the place, and I could tell Faye was equally amazed. "We should totally go there," I whispered, almost afraid to be too loud lest it turn out to be a dream.
"It all seems familiar," Faye muttered, closing her eyes and sighing when she apparently couldn't remember why she felt as though she knew the place.
"Maybe exploring will jog your memory," I announced, wanting to explore, and began walking down the hill. She followed right after me as we walked down gravel roads and past a bunch of little people- even for my 5'4" and Faye's 5'3"- going about their days. There was an overall country vibe, entirely different from the one we got from our home in Kansas. The whole place seemed way more old-fashioned, and I couldn't figure it out.
We wandered for what seemed like hours, until the sun dipped low on the horizon, not realizing we weren't paying attention to where we were going until we bumped into someone. I fell backward, barely catching myself before I could land on the ground. The back of my neck grew hot in embarrassment as I looked up at the person we had crashed into. "We are so sorry..."
The man was old, with a long silver beard, gray robes, a pointy gray hat, and a large walking stick. He seemed incredibly familiar, and I could feel Faye's fingers digging into my arm. It hit me a second later, and I mentally smacked myself for not realizing it sooner, we had been wandering around the freaking Shire!
"It's quite alright, my dears," the man- who I realized was the wizard from the posters- replied. He eyed us curiously. "Might I ask what two young females of Men are doing in these parts, at this hour?"
I frowned at the unfamiliar wording, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "We just woke up here," Faye explained, probably deciding that the best course of action was to tell the truth. After all, maybe he would know something about why we were there, or how we arrived in the first place. If my limited knowledge of the universe was correct, he was a wizard. "We're from," she paused. "This is going to sound crazy. We're from another world."
He stared at us for a long moment, his face betraying nothing, before he nodded- as if deciding something- and held out his hand. "I'm Gandalf the Gray," he introduced. "And now I seem to be at a disadvantage. For you now know my name, but I haven't an inkling as to yours."
"Rebecca Green," I replied, shaking his hand with a surprised smile on my lips. "But I prefer Becca," I added.
"And I'm Faye," said Faye, also completing the handshake.
He nodded, leaning on his staff. "Well, Miss Rebecca and Miss Faye," we both visited at the titles, but didn't correct him, "I am going to a meeting of old friends, to try to talk one of them into going on an adventure. Would you like to come along?" I curiously turned to Faye, who smiled excitedly. The wizard nodded to himself. "Splendid." And then he took off walking, the two of us close behind.
After a moment Gandalf stopped at a house Faye immediately recognized as Bag End- and told me so in an excited whisper- knocking on the round, green door. It wasn't long before we heard a voice shout "Go Away!" from inside, but the door still opened, revealing a very annoyed ma- hobbit. It was definitely the hobbit from the poster- Bill, or Billo, or something. He glared up at us, though his gaze softened slightly when he spotted the wizard. "Gandalf," he breathed, sounding relieved. Then he saw me and Faye, and his brow furrowed. "And who is this?"
"These young ladies are Miss Rebecca and Miss Faye Green," Gandalf introduced. "This is Mr. Bilbo Baggins, our host." Ah, Bilbo.
The hobbit nodded in understanding, gesturing inside. "Make yourselves comfortable," he offered. We nodded as one, depositing our heavy backpacks on the door and walking inside, heading towards a loud cacophony of noises from somewhere else in the house. We stepped into a kitchen, and froze.
It was a complete mess.
Food was spread out in the table, a round which twelve men- no, dwarves; I was pretty sure they were called dwarves- were seated. I guessed by the empty pantry just down the hall that the ever-disappearing food was all that our host had- a point which he protested of several times- though it appeared as though they couldn't have cared less. They stuffed themselves, eating and eating and eating. Some food was even thrown across the table, mostly to a large dwarf with a thick circular braided beard that rested on his stomach.
"Dwalin," andalf muttered to us, pointing out a heavily-muscled bald dwarf with many tattoos. "Balin," an older dwarf with a large white beard. "Fili," a younger dwarf with blonde hair, who I totally recognized. "Kili," a raven-haired dwarf I knew was his brother. "Bifur," both Faye and I hid a gasp as Gandalf gestured to a black-and-grey haired dwarf with an axe sticking out of his head. "Bofur," a dwarf with a strange hat. "Bombur," the large ginger-haired dwarf. "Oin," an older-looking dwarf with an ear trumpet. "Gloin," a red-haired dwarf. "Ori," a dwarf who had to be the youngest. "Dori," a dwarf with intricate braids in his white hair. "And Nori," a dwarf with his hair shaped into a star, who I noticed pocket the silverware in front of him.
"And who are you?" Dwalin grunted, glaring, as all of them seemed to notice our presence. My eyes narrowed into a glare of my own, and Faye gripped my arm to keep me from going up and smacking him upside the head. I was born with a temper as fiery as my hair.
"Rebecca," I said, not very kindly, shifting my weight backwards so that I was leaning against the wall.
"Faye," my sister added, waving slightly.
The wizard nodded, opening his mouth to speak, but then Bilbo grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Faye winked at me and started walking towards them, far enough that we wouldn't be spotted eavesdropping, but close enough that we could see the hobbit waving his arms angrily, spouting off something about the dwarves in his house. He was getting pretty worked up when Nori, no Ori, walked up to them. "Excuse me," the young dwarf began, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?" Bilbo looked confused for a moment and then Fili walked over. I could practically feel Faye melt beside me.
"Here you go, Ori, give it to me," he said before throwing the plate at his brother, who caught it expertly and threw it into the kitchen, into the waiting hands of Bifur at the sink.
I swore Bilbo was going to have a heart attack as he chased after the plate. "Excuse me, that's my mother's Westfarthing pottery. It's over a hundred years old!" The dwarves at the table began to drum out a tune with the silverware, and I found myself tapping my foot to the beat. "And can you not do that? You'll blunt them," he shouted again.
"Oh, do you hear that lads? He says we'll blunt the knives," Bofur joked, sounding amused.
"Blunt the knives, bend the forks," Kili began singing, gesturing for his brother to throw more dishes at him.
"Smash the bottles and burn the corks," Fili responded, bouncing a plate on his elbows before sending it on its way.
"Chip the glasses and crack the plates," more joined in.
"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" Everyone shouted in unison and the song began.
We watched in amusement and amazement as the dwarves went along with their dish washing, ducking at the odd bowl or plate that got too close.
"Cut the cloth, tread on the fat,
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat
Pour the milk on the pantry floor,
Splash the wine on every door!
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl
Pound them up with a thumping pole
And when you're finished if any are whole,
Send them down the hall to roll!"
Faye giggled as they stacked dishes in Ori's hands, creating a tower taller than himself, then winced as Dwalin head-butted a wooden mug with his head to Nori, who then kicked it with his foot to Bifur. I smiled as Oin used Bilbo's teapot as a flute, not understanding how he could. It seemed impossible, but then again, I was in Middle Earth.
"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"
The song ended as Bilbo ran into his kitchen, expecting broken dishes but finding all of them washed, dried, and stacked. Everyone laughed at the look on his face, and Faye and I had to join in- her hysterical giggles and my almost silent ones. The merriment was cut short, however, by three loud raps on the door. The house grew silent as everyone turned in the direction of the front door. Gandalf also turned, an unreadable expression on his face.
"He is here."