Ohhh Sorry it took so long for this chapter to come out! It kind of kicked my butt and beat me with the Greatsword of Writer's Block. I just want to jump ahead to when things pick up and become so much more fun with the shenanigans that are ahead! Anyways, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, and favorited, and followed the story, and encouraged me to keep going. I'll promise you now, this story will NEVER EVER EVER be dropped xD I'll try to update on a some-what regular basis!

As for the request I received from one of my Guests, I am definitely going to take it on. It may be a while before I'll be able to get it up, and it will probs be a one-shot, but it's an interesting prompt I look forward to writing about.

Anyways, there is a story I am prolonging you from, so go on and enjoy! Oh! And I apologize if the scene with Thorin's speech and the dwarves talking about how to enter Erebor is a tad scrambled, I couldn't remember which parts came in what order, despite having seen the movie in theatres six times now –yes, I have a slight problem w- and I couldn't find any clips of that one scene. So yeah. x3

Chapter 3

Everyone had settled down around the crowded table, Thorin sitting at the head while Bilbo and I kept on our feet, the hobbit pacing between Gandalf and our company's leader while I leaned casually against the wall to Thorin's right. I only paid partial attention as the dwarves caught up on current events, Thorin informing the others of what occurred at the clans meet; my attention was more focused on the nervously fidgeting hobbit who continued to glance over at me, a look of uncertainty molding his face. It took him a bit, but he finally turned and faced me, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, I have yet to properly introduce myself: Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

Smiling, I extended my hand in a greeting-like gesture, Bilbo taking it with his small hand quickly. I thought I had large hands for a woman, but looking at the hobbit's completely encased in mine did nothing to make me feel any better about my more masculine appendages. It's not like I wanted frail, dainty hands, but come on, can they at least be a little feminine?! "It's a pleasure, Bilbo. I am Thyra Gray-Mane."

I watched as Bilbo's expression turned curious and he quickly looked me over, glancing from the table of dwarves and back to me. "You, uh, I never imagined dwarf women would be so…tall."

Laughing out loudly, I shook my head, dark brown/black curly locks flying through the air. "I am, most definitely, not a dwarf, Mr. Baggins."

It wasn't unexpected when Bilbo's brow jumped up into his hairline as he looked me over once again, no doubt thinking he knew what I was. "Ah, I thought you were Human, but it didn't seem to fit; a human travelling with a dwarf. Aren't dwarves supposed to be very distrustful of others?"

Snickering, I glanced over towards Thorin, checking to see if he was paying any attention to our conversation, which thankfully he wasn't or he'd probably scowl me into submission. "Oh yeah, they're very distrustful, that much's for sure, but no, I'm not Human either. Care to take another gander?" I asked, my amusement clearly showing.

A voice to my right interrupted Bilbo before he could say anything and the both of us turned to face Mr. Fu Manchu. "If you're not Human, what are you then? You sure look Human to me."

Apparently more people were listening to our conversation than I thought. "Are you an orc in disguise?!" A dwarf called out from down the table, his shaggy, dark hair hanging to his shoulders and his face lacking a majestic beard like every other dwarf I've had the pleasure of encountering.

"Kili, I don't think Orcs have women." The mustache-bearded blonde beside him said.

"…She could be a really strange Orc…" He grumbled, clearly put out by the statement from his comrade. Shaking my head, I worked to force away the amused smile that was trying to creep its way onto my face. Oh the little amount of knowledge they actually had… I wonder how they would react to finding out that Skyrim Orcs were nothing compared to those that live this far south. Actually, I don't think I've seen one of their orcs. Hmm, I wonder what they look like; they're obviously not what I'm used to imagining as an Orc.

"She's a nord, and an impatient one at that."

Heads turned to look to Thorin, and I gave him a teasing pout. "Aw, you were supposed to make them guess!" I laughed.

Shaking his head at my nonsense, I grinned and chuckled, but upon noticing Dwalin's stare, I stopped, watching him skeptically. "You're a nord?"

"Yes?" I replied uncertainly, wondering as to what the dwarf was thinking.

He continued to stare at me for a few moments longer before letting out a manly grunt and turning his attention back to Thorin. "What of the dwarves from the Iron Hills. Will they join us?"

Bilbo, not entirely interested in the new change in topic, began to wander about his house, looking over the rather well done clean up job the dwarves had performed, seemingly completely baffled. I decided to remain in my little corner, half listening in on Thorin telling everyone the details of what had occurred at the meet and half flipping through one of my favorite books that I had stashed in the pouch on my leg. It wasn't until Gandalf laid out a piece of parchement, flattening the folded paper to reveal a map of what I assumed was the Lonely Mountain, did I start to pay attention once again. So, this was Smaug's newest den.

"Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time!" The bushy-bearded ginger exclaimed.

"It was foretold that when the birds returned to Erebor, the reign of the great beast would end."

Silence settled as the near-deaf dwarf spoke of his prophecy.

"Beast? What beast?"

"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible: greatest calamity of our age.; airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, especially fond of precious metal."

"Yes yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo huffed, but attention turned to the youngest blonde dwarf as he jumped to his feet.

"I'm not afraid! I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of dwarvish metal right up his jacksey!"

I snorted at the leud comment as the company began all talking at once, in agreement with the young one. The dwarf next to the rambunctious young one pulled him down back into his seat, however –I think they were brothers- and everyone quickly quieted once again.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest." The old dwarf beside Bofur said.

Seriously, these dwarves got excited over the littlest of things. Every time someone spoke it seemed they all broke out into discussion. Not that I minded; it was quite entertaining listening to their babbling while my eyes flitted over the worn out parchment of my book. I even chuckled when one demanded if the old dwarf was calling him dim. It was the thump of a gauntleted fist against the table top that drew everyone's attention this time around, the young, blonde, braided dwarf speaking up.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters; all of us; to the last dwarf!"

"And do you forget that we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf would have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!" The beardless dwarf exclaimed excitedly.

Jeese, learning all of these names was going to be a bitch.

"O-o-oh, I wouldn't say-" Gandalf stuttered, obviously trying to figure out a way to correct the misinformed dwarf.

"How many then?"

"What?"

"How many dragons have you killed?"

For once it was completely silent, the grey wizard attempting to refrain from choking on his pipe smoke as he attempted to find the correct answer to give the company. My silvery-white eyes danced between Thorin and Gandalf, the expectant look the dwarf king held did not escape my notice. Haha, what a jerk Thorin was for leaving Gandalf to fend off the wolves!

"Go on, give us a number!"

So much for the lasting quiet.

Argument and shouts of disagreements began to fill the room, but with a mighty dwarven roar, Thorin called all attention to him. "And do you not think that if we have read these signs, then others would have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread; the dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look East to the mountain; assessing; wondering; weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people lies unprotected. Do we sit back and let others claim what is rightfully ours, or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor!"

The litany of roars and cheers that erupted from the dwarves had me forgetting about my book and instead smiling, Thorin's speech filling me with excitement and adrenaline as well as the king cried out dwarvish words I could not understand. Thorin continued to impress; his ability to inspire his kin so vigorously with such few words only attributed to his good character, to his affinity at being such a strong and respected leader among his people despite his coldness towards me. I could almost see the similarities between this dwarven king and the self-proclaimed High King, rebel leader of Skyrim.

"You forget the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain." The wise dwarf beside Bofur spoke out.

It became quiet, eerily so seeing as the boisterous presence of the dwarves had all but driven the silence out of this house.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Out of nowhere, Gandalf began to twirl a small, but heavy looking between his fingers, smiling in an annoying way showing that he knew something the rest of us were not aware of.

All eyes were on Thorin and the grey wizard as the leader of the company stared on in shocked at the object in Gandalf's head. "How came you by this?"

"It was given to me by your father, my friend; for safe keeping. It is yours now."

Thorin took the key from the wizard's grasp in an almost tender gesture before tightly wrapping his fingers around it, all the others simply watched in wonder. It was a blonde dwarf at the end of the table who spoke up next, breaking the quiet. "If there's a key, there must be a door."

At the blonde's words, Gandalf gave a curt nod, smiling knowingly. "These ruins speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls.

"That means there's another way into the mountain!" Mmm, kudos to the dwarf who thought I was an orc for pointing out the obvious. Silly little man~

"If we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer to finding it lies within this map, and I do not have the skills to find it, but there are others in Middle-Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar!'

There was no sense in my continuing to try and read. The current conversation was much too engaging and I had been reading the same sentence for the last ten minutes. Replacing my book back into its proper place, I frowned at the young one. A burglar? I didn't take dwarves as beings of stealth, and by how they were talking I couldn't imagine they were referring to one of them. Thorin had mentioned nothing of burglary to me, so who did they expect to take on the task?

Bilbo, who had been holding up a candle to provide better lighting and peering over Thorin's shoulder at the map, gave a nod, taking a step back. "Mm, and a good one too; an expert I'd imagine." It had been a long while since our host had spoken, the man simply watching the others like myself.

It was odd watching every single dwarf turn their head to look at Bilbo expectantly; even Thorin had turned his eyes onto the hobbit. The bushy gingered dwarf leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowing at the small lad. "And are you?"

Wait… They couldn't seriously consider Bilbo, could they?

Mr. Baggins seemed to not be able to follow the train of thought seeing as he glanced over his shoulder, as if the stout man had been speaking to someone behind him, "Am I what?"

"You hear that, he said he's an expert!" The dwarf with a hearing horn tucked into his ear laughed out in excitement, others chuckling at his mistake. I would have palmed my face at the miscommunication myself, but I was a bit preoccupied by the fact that Gandalf thought it smart to bring along our sheltered hobbit host.

It took a moment for Bilbo to realize everyone's attention was focused on him, and upon so, he looked very surprised. "What? Me? No, no no no! I'm not a burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"Then I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Balin said. His lips formed into a grimace.

Bilbo, on the other hand seemed rather content with the words spoken.

"Aye, the world is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." The large, tattooed dwarf spoke.

Bilbo only nodded in agreement, seeming relieved that others of the company seemed to be agreeing with him. The dwarves, however, grew rowdy at the realization that Bilbo was indeed not a burglar, and the noise only continued to grow until alas Gandalf would take no more of it. Standing tall, a shroud of darkness began to seep from the wizard, shaking the inside of this small home, the wizard's voice booming.

"Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!" All stared at Gandalf, startled and shrinking back into their chairs; even I was taken aback by the sudden display of anger. Damn, I wish I had that sort of magic! I'd be as intimidating as a Daedric prince! Slowly Gandalf settled back into his seat, gathering his composure as the dwarves recollected themselves awkwardly, "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the scent of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him; giving us a distinct advantage." Glancing to Bilbo for a moment, the grey wizard turned to address the leader of this company, his expression serious. "You asked me to find the fourteenth member for your expedition, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There is a lot more to him than appearances suggest and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself."

It was silent as Thorin mulled over his choices, and I eyed Bilbo wearily.

"You must trust me on this." Gandalf said.

Would he really be up for the task? I had stealth, albeit being an acquired skill instead of the hobbit's natural ability, and Smaug would no doubt recognize the scent of a nord, but it would at least prevent an ill-experienced warrior from charging into danger. The leader had reached a decision; however, "Very well, we will do it your way. Give him the contract."

Well, at least we were finally going to be off. I had had enough of just sitting around. It seemed as if I wasn't the only one eager to be off seeing as the table of dwarves began to fidget anxiously, and Balin reached into his pocket and retrieved the contract, leaning over to hand it to Bilbo. I smirked in amusement as Thorin grabbed it from his companion and roughly shoved it into the hobbit's hands, startling the poor man. Wait… Funeral arrangements? Bilbo apparently had the same concern as me and began reading off the contents, and listening to the list continuing to grow, I walked up to Thorin's side, my hand resting on the back of his chair as I leaned forward over his shoulder. "It's rather strange Thorin, you never mentioned anything about a contract to me."

Not bothering to turn and face me as he spoke, Thorin's reply was gruff and straight to the point. "You don't get one."

"And why is that?"

Finally deciding to look at me, his stern expression was serious and a bit bothered. "Did you not say you had no interest in the treasure? That you were only looking to slay Smaug?"

"Well, if you're freely going to give it out, I won't say no." I retorted light heartedly despite my frown. "But what about the funeral arrangements? You wouldn't really throw my dead carcass out to the crows, would you?"

The slight hesitance before his response did not amuse me in the slightest, but his reply at least seemed to be sincere. "No, I would not. You would be buried respectably if given the chance."

Okay, yes, I was thankful for his consideration of the matter, but I didn't particularly care what happened to my body, I preferred to be cremated, but hey, who can be picky these days? What I did care for, though, was if I did die, I would like my family to know at least what had happened. "What, don't I get to have a letter sent home of my sorrowful demise?"

My quip was met with a glower, "No. If Smaug was slain and Erebor retaken, I would not have the time nor the patience to track down whatever family you may have in a country I know nothing of."

Standing straight, my lips pursed into an irritated scowl. "Right, glad to know my death will be mourned so passionately." I retorted sarcastically, turning my attention to Bilbo to ensure I kept myself civilized. It wasn't like I didn't know Thorin didn't like me all that much, but by the almighty Divine, did he have to be such a cranky ass!?

"I-Incineration?!"

"Oh, aye, he'll melt flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bofur casually called out, resting the hand with the pipe on the table.

"You alright there, laddie?" The older dwarf asked, seemingly honestly concerned for the hobbit, leaning forward to get a better glance at him.

I watched in interest as Bilbo leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees and holding up his weight, as the hobbit seemed to grow increasingly pale. Was he feeling nauseous after simply hearing a vague description of the dangers of a dragon's flame? "Ah, yeah, I feel a bit feint."

For whatever reason, Bofur got to his feet, leaning across me and over the threshold as he began to explain further of what a dragon was. "Think furnace, with wings!"

"I-I I need air."

"Flash of light, searing pain, then 'poof', you're nothin' more than a pile of ash!"

All eyes watched Bilbo carefully, me leaning forward on the table and peeking around Bofur, waiting to see what would happen as he swayed, attempting to collect himself. For a moment there, it looked as if he would be fine…

"Nope."

The moment Bilbo hit the floor, I roared in laughter, clasping Bofur's shoulder to try and keep myself steady on my feet. Gandalf sighed and shook his head in bemusement as he stood up and moved to gather the poor hobbit, Thorin sighing along and shooting my newly dubbed favorite fu manchued dwarf a dark glower. "Was that truly necessary?"

Turning to his majestic leader, Bofur gave the greying dwarf an innocent look. "What? I was only trying to give the lad an accurate image of what we're goin' after!"

Thorin remained silent, his expression stern, but we watched as his eyes slowly turned to gaze in the direction where Gandalf was tending to Bilbo, trying to wake him. "It's probably for the better. Like Dwalin said, gentle folk don't belong where we're off to. I mean, it would have been nice not to be the only non-dwarf on our escapade, but he isn't quite fit for, well, you know, dragon slaying an' all that." I pointed out, my lips curved into a sad frown. We came all the way here, intruded into the guy's house, ate all his food, all for him to decide not to go with us. Poor bastard must hate our guts.

It was Bofur who turned his dark eyes to me, a sharp, smart twinkle alight in his optics. "I don' know about that, lass; if Gandalf chose him to join us, he must know something about the lad that we don't, don' cha think?"

At that, I shrugged in uncertainty, seeing the truth in the dwarf's words.

"I trust in Gandalf's wisdom; it is his judgment I question. The hobbit knows nothing of the world outside his Hobbit hole; he knows nothing of war." Thorin spoke, his stern, grumpy exterior making its appearance once again. I was honestly beginning to wonder where it had gone off to. It seemed that every time we were in the company of his kin and friends, Thorin was actually somewhat pleasant to be around. Was I honestly that much of a nuisance to the damn midget that me being within a ten foot radius of him had the man in a poor mood?

"I agree; it is obvious he lacks in experience with violence of any kind, but maybe you shouldn't be so quick to judge. Bofur could be right; Bilbo may have some hidden potential we're unaware of." I admitted, shrugging nonchalantly while glancing to Bofur with a smirk.

Thorin glared at me in distaste while Bofur looked upon in confusion. "Were you not just saying how the Hobbit is unfit to go and slay a dragon? You are Dragonborn; shouldn't you know what it takes to take down such a beast, and who can surmount to the task?" Thorin challenged, his temper flaring as he stood to his feet, trying to reach my eye level.

Sadly his attempt at intimidation did not work over quite so well and I slumped back against the wall unimpressed. "At the moment Bilbo would have better luck fighting off a wild skeever and winning than going against a dragon, yes, but unlike you, I don't overlook the fact that there is yet still time to learn. And besides, it's not as if he would be going against Smaug by himself. Was it not Gandalf that said having a hobbit would be beneficial to us with their natural affinity for stealth and Smaug's unknowingness of a hobbit's presence? How else would we lure the beast out to our advantage?"

Grunting with a flare of his nose, Thorin turned and –with an obviously forced calm to his movements- left the kitchen, removing himself from my presence to no-doubt keep himself from inflicting bodily harm upon me. Okay, maybe it is understandable for Thorin to not want to deal with me, but come on, the man's stubborn to a fault; can I really be blamed for wanting to poke and prod at him for it?

Right, don't answer that.

My attention was turned away from my inner thoughts, however, as Bofur looked up to me with a curious look. "If ya don' mind me asking, what exactly is a 'skeever'?"

Smiling, I pushed back off of the wall and instead sat myself on the corner of the table beside Bofur, my torso turned towards him. "A skeever is a giant rat that infests Skyrim wilds. They're a common nuisance, but they're manageable and relatively easy to kill. Not to mention they make a nice snack once roasted over a fire." I explained with a wicked smirk.

The wide eyes and grossed out expression made me laugh, Bofur staring at me in suspicious disbelief. "No one in their right mind would cook and eat a rat, giant or not!"

Pausing and thinking for a moment, I actually gave Bofur an agreeing nod. "You do make a point. The amount of insanity within Skyrim is completely ridiculous. I'll have to tell you the story about the time I got challenged to a drinking contest. What happened that night is nothing compared to what others do, even when sober. Hmm, good thing I eat venison and horker meat more than anything else." I mused.

Once again his expression turned to one of questioning and he was no doubt wondering what in the dark Void a horker was, but we were interrupted as a small –well, smaller- dwarf approached from the main hall, his white hair and beard loose and unbraided and ornamented, his beard curled off to the sides at the end. This dwarf stood in the doorway, his small, sharp eyes looking me over and taking in my presence, hands on his hips. "It has been quite a while since I have seen Thorin so thoroughly worked up."

"Aye! And never by a woman!" Exclaimed a bushy-bearded ginger of a dwarf, who was passing through the kitchen to get to the pantry in search of more ale.

Deadpanning at the comment, I quickly recovered, fixing myself with a neutral expression. Why was it that the thing people pointed out the most about me was the fact that I was a woman? I mean seriously, it's almost like they haven't ever seen one! Is it truly that difficult to realize that a woman is just as capable, if not more so, as a man is?! Lifting my shoulders in a shrug, I decided lingering on sexism that seemed to be running rampant was not worth it at the moment and I gave the dwarf before me a sheepish smile, "What can I say; I apparently have that effect on dwarves."

"Ah, yes, I must apologize for my dear brother's behavior. It seems that I alone inherited the family's wits and manners. I am Balin, at your service." The teasing smile and quaint bow were a surprising, but a pleasant turn of events, my smile growing more relaxed and natural.

Taking a stand myself, I gave a casual bow in return. "It's a pleasure to meet you Balin."

"You shouldn't let Thorin's demeanor get to you, lass. He finds it hard to trust, especially when he's trusting in the unknown. But I for one am glad you're with us; it's rather comforting to have a dragon slayer amongst us."

"Aye, at least not as many of us will die a horrible fiery death." Bofur commented casually, pulling a bag of his weed out of his pocket as stuffing more of it into his pipe as he did so.

Snorting in amusement, I refocused on Balin, his kind smile turned to me. Maybe things wouldn't be so awkward on the journey. At least some of the dwarves were nice and pretended to enjoy my company. "It's kind of you to be concerned, but Thorin's grumpiness is tolerable. Once he realizes I'm not going to slowly kill you all one-by-one so as by the time we reach Erebor I'll have the key and your mountain of treasure all to myself, I'm sure he'll come around." I joked, the upturned corners of my lips revealing as much.

Chuckling, Balin nodded, "I hope you are right, lass. I truly do." The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor caught our attention, and watching as a small number of the Company dragged chairs over towards the room with the hearth, Balin turned and gave me another bow. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll join the others."

Giving a nod, the small dwarf left the room and turned the corner, Bofur standing and following after, his chair in arm. Inhaling softly as I found myself alone, I looked down towards the other end of the room through the darkness that had set upon the house. The roaring laughter and talk that had previously filled the house had died down to quiet murmurs, the lateness of the night becoming more evident as the house and its occupants seemed to be settling down. With Bilbo having left to lock himself in his bedroom and the dwarves gathered together, I figured finding a comfortable place to sleep would be my best option. What else was there to do?

Quietly placing my full weight onto my feet, I deftly moved around the table, intending to exit through the other door, figuring my chances of finding a more comfortable 'bed' would be higher going this way; however, the soft quiet that had fallen over the room was broken as my name was called. Turning back, I met Bofur's sincere gaze and soft smile with an innocently curious look, his head peeking out from around the corner of the door. "Are ya comin'?"

It took me a moment to realize I was being invited to join their little dwarven pow-wow of kinship. It was surprising, I had figured the dwarves would keep to themselves and try to have only minimal contact with me. Relief and happiness had my heart feeling light in my chest, and I think Bofur noticed my relieved smile as I nodded and followed him into the den.

It seemed that maybe dwarves weren't as strange and cold as the stones they lived in and mined.

I really should have read this over before posting it, but writing this chapter just drained all rational thought for my brain and I wanted to get this out as quickly as possible. So yeah, I'll come back when I've gathered my wits and re-edit it. If anyone seems something I messed up, leave a review and I'll fix it! Despite the errors no doubtfully present, I hoped you enjoyed the chapter and the next installment should be out in a week and a half or so.

EDIT: YAY! I finally got this edited and more accurate xD Alright, now that I've got that done and I've streamed the Hobbit about twice [and counting] already since I found it last night, the next chapter will be up soon, PROMISE! No later than a week! So keep an eye out for it.

~Kago