They'd started singing by this point into the night.

Admittedly, I was actually quite impressed at how they all managed to stay so in tune, and know the words to a song that they'd probably never sung before. Or maybe they had. Either way, making a song up about blunting knives was, in itself, pretty creative. Even the banging of said knives against the table created a rhythm to the song.

I can still remember it today. Every word, ever beat, every voice joining together.

Blunt the knives and bend the forks!
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!
Chip the glasses and crack the plates!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates -

Cut the cloth and tread 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've finished, if any are whole,
Send them down the hall to roll!

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

At the time, I had found them quite insane. I mean, bursting out into song, and knowing every word on the spot? Seemed a little bit High School Musical to me. About halfway through the song, I'd managed to get the beat, and clapped merrily from my spot behind Gandalf, who was sitting at the head of the table in front of me.

I now wore beige breaches and my own black shirt, which I'd tucked into the trousers. The breaches, apparently, had belonged to Bilbo's father, and he had given them to me with an almost pained expression.

I felt almost guilty, but upon finding that I could walk, I forgot any guilt that I once felt. My hoody was far too big for me, so that was laying on the back of a chair, which (hot damn) Kili the Dwarf occupied.

The Dwarves seemed perfectly content with throwing comments my way, or simply ignoring me. It felt odd, intruding on this gathering of friends, who were all very obviously fond of each other. Gandalf, bless him, tried to make me feel more comfortable by offering me food and pointing out the names of each Dwarf. I very nearly knew most of them by sight.

When the plates began flying around the room, I stepped further away from Gandalf as one narrowly missed my head, only to be caught my Fili, who laughed heartily at my startled look.

I was almost certain that these Dwarves were going to be the death of me. And here I was, planning to go on a quest with them. To kill a dragon.

Well, slap me thrice and call me Daenerys.

A loud, echoing knock sounded at the door at that moment, and every single Dwarf in the room stopping singing, laughing, and throwing any plates. Bilbo looked a little relieved, yet a little scared at the same time.

'He's here,' said Gandalf quietly.

Well, according to their shit-scared expressions, Darth Vader has come for a visit.

They moved so quickly that I was near carried along with the company of Dwarves. Gandalf grabbed me by the shoulders and hurried me along into the hallway. 'Do not speak. Do not make eye contact. Just simply try to hide away until I am able to introduce you, Millie'.

I wrinkled my nose at him and stood obediently to the left of the door, behind three Dwarves who shuffled away to make space for me. 'Thanks,' I said dryly to Gandalf, but my comment was lost in the flurry of the door opening, and everyone's attention being focused on the male Dwarf who stood on the other side of it.

He was shorter than Gandalf, and despite the fact that he smiled at the wizard, I was instantly a little scared of Thorin Oakenshield. 'Gandalf,' he greeted, and stepped through the round doorway. The Dwarves each gave a little bow in turn. I gave a little spasm of a bow, completely baffled at what the hell I should do. 'I thought you said that this place would be easy to find,' said, who I had presumed, was Thorin. His voice was deep and scratchy. 'I lost my way - twice,' he informed us, ridding himself of his cloak.

He then mentioned the mark on the door, two which Bilbo took great offence, claiming that he had painted the door a week ago. To this day, I have never met anyone who was as house proud as Bilbo Baggins. He looked even more offended when Gandalf informed him that there was, indeed, a mark on the green, round door.

Gandalf then introduced Bilbo to Thorin, who stepped forward, studying the shorter man. 'So,' he said. 'This is the hobbit'. I let out a small squeak at that because, hey, I may not have been a fan, or seen the film, but it was the title of the film. You know, The Hobbit? Nifty.

I caught the eye of Kili, who stood opposite me, and ducked behind the Dwarf in front. Maybe I had squeaked a little louder than I realized.

The Dwarves all laughed at something Thorin said, and Bilbo looked mildly uncomfortable. Gandalf peered over the heads of the Dwarves, mid-laugh, and brightened even more once he caught my eyes. I began shaking my head at him, face a mask of horror, but he ignored my obvious message.

'And this,' he said, nodded at the Dwarves in front of me, who stepped aside and pushed me forward, 'is- what was it again, my dear?' I loathe you, stupid Tall-Old-Guy.

'Alexandria Millicent Fournier,' I said, avoiding eye contact with the powerful Dwarf in front of me, my cheeks heating up. Every eye was on me, and I was hyper aware of the fact that I looked like a farmer in my current attire.

'Who prefers to be called Lady Millie!' boomed Gloin.

I shook my head. 'Just Millie, thank you'. I looked up, putting on a brave face, and met the eyes of Thorin Oakenshield. 'Gandalf offered me a place on your quest,' I informed him nervously.

Thorin quirked a brow, then turned to Gandalf. 'A woman,' he stated blandly.

Anger flared up within me, and I ground my teeth, stepping forward once more. 'Evidently,' I ground out. 'And I am standing directly in front of you, so you could at least try to hide your displeasure'. Queen Millie the Sassy, at your service.

Gandalf looked physically pained.

Thorin turned back to me, looking mildly bemused. 'A woman with spirit,' he concluded, tilting his head. 'I expect nothing less from a woman of my own kin. Where do you hail from?' he questioned. All sass left me, and I stood, stumped at what to say.

'Er-'

Gandalf, slouching, stepped into my view. In that moment, I liked him once again. 'Millie is from a far away place, and is therefore unused to any of the customs of Middle Earth, and the Dwarven race. She has, though, offered to aid you on your quest to the Lonely Mountain'.

Thorin looked at me, hummed, and then turned away.

Well, alright then.

The next hour was filled with information, and Bilbo Baggins fainting from shock. I'd forgotten that he knew nearly nothing about the quest (and the dragon), so understandably he had been a little surprised.

On the other hand, I had no idea that I would be inheriting some of the gold that we would stumble upon - if we did. Or that Thorin was, in actual fact, a king. It seemed that Gandalf had failed to tell me quite a bit about the journey ahead.

Gandalf supported my case, once it was revealed that Bilbo was the 'burglar'. Something about him being the smallest and the quietest. According to Gandalf, I was a 'very experienced clothes maker' and 'I would make a great addition to the quest'. The Dwarves who saw my baffled look laughed into their pipes and ales.

'We have a wizard in our company!' said Kili, among the arguing of whether we would actually be able to defeat the dragon, Smaug. 'Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!'

I sent Gandalf a bemusedly interested look, to which he simply stumbled over his words. 'Uh, I- well, I wouldn't say that-'

They argued, Thorin had a bitch fit, I rubbed my forehead, the Dwarves looked ashamed. It was all very awkward, and I could not have felt more home sick. I miss my mother, my cat, my father, and my bed.

Plus, I still had not replaced my shoes, and my feet ached.

Gandalf then revealed a key, after Thorin gave a speech about 'reclaiming what was theirs' and the 'wealth of the Dwarves'. Honestly, I'd had nearly no idea what he was talking about, nor why everyone was cheering so much.

As Thorin held the key and looked a little bit like he was going to burst into tears, Fili said, quite dramatically, 'If there is a key...there must be a door'.

I was so tired and absentminded at that time, that I'd scoffed and muttered, 'why thank you, Master Obvious'. Dwarves stared, and I shrunk back. '...Sorry'.

'You will both sign the contract,' said Thorin, handing it to Bilbo. 'Meaning I will allow you to join us on this quest, Miss Fournier'. He was, possibly, the only person to have ever pronounced my surname correctly. 'I will not take any responsibility for any injuries you may acquire, or your fate. The same goes for you, Mister Baggins. You will both share the treasure that would have only been our burglars'.

I stood from my place, pushing past Gandalf, and stood next to Bilbo, who unfolded the long contract. I half-turned to see Thorin whispering to Gandalf, who looked mildly grim.

'-Lacerations,' said the Hobbit, louder than his other mutterings. I snorted grimly. '...Incineration?' he read.

He turned to look past me, to the dining table, where the Dwarves and Gandalf looked back. 'Incineration?' he said again, face a mask of displeasure. I put my hands behind my back, and rocked on the heels of my feet. Big mistake, it hurt. 'That's reassuring,' I said lightly. I was ignored.

'Oh, aye,' said Bofur. 'They'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye'.

'Oh, lovely,' I'd piped in.

Bilbo opened his mouth and looked at me. I shrugged. He struggled for words and put his hands on his hips, leaning back and breathing out hard.

'Think furnace,' said Bofur, standing from his chair. 'With wings'.

I sent him a stale look and exclaimed, 'worst attempt at reassurance, ever'. He shrugged helplessly and peered back at the Hobbit, who I'm sure by this point was having some kind of fit. Even I'd handled the whole 'transportation into a fictional world' better than this. Bofur continued to talk about searing pain, and a peaceful end, while Bilbo straightened up, sighed...

...And then promptly fainted.

'That,' I pointed out. 'Was your fault'.

'I was trying to make him feel better!' defended Bofur, ignoring the laughing Dwarves behind him. Poor Bilbo continued to lie on the floor, unconscious, while Gandalf lent over him.

'Badly,' I reminded him, to which he simply paused, and then shrugged.

Bilbo, in the end, chose not to join us on our journey. I was a little put out. Selfishly, I had wanted someone who was as coddled and useless as I was to go on this rough and dangerous quest. I foresaw images of me, sweating, panting and injured. Not very attractive.

I had sat in the hallway, my shoes pulled off and my back pressed against the curved wall behind me. I thought of my home, and whether time had simply stopped there, or whether I had disappeared from existence. If so, my mum was probably scared and crying, and my dad had most likely been called home from work. I wondered if I would see them again.

It was odd though. Part of me didn't want to leave just yet.

At that moment, two pairs of feet had appeared in front of me. Attached to those feet were, in fact, Kili and Fili. I'd stared up at them, aware of my bare feet, my messy hair and my complete inability to talk to people normally.

'Hello,' said Fili, smiling down at me. Dude had one funky mustache. I wondered whether he styled it every morning. I could never be bothered with doing anything with my dark hair. 'I am Fili'.

My eyes wandered to Kili, who introduced himself immediately after his brother. 'Kili,' he said brightly. Swoon.

And then, word vomit. 'Your parents had one funny sense of humor'.

Thankfully, these Dwarves had the same sense of humor as me, for they both laughed heartily. Fili offered me his hand, and I took it gratefully, standing. 'We decided that since you will be accompanying us on this quest, then we may well introduce ourselves properly,' he explained, while I tried to hide my bare feet. He glanced down. 'You are not wearing any shoes,' he pointed out.

'Er, no-'

'Haven't you heard the lass complaining about her aching feet to that poor wizard?' called Balin from down the hall. He was sat opposite Thorin, who'd looked intently at me with his, er, intense blue eyes.

I looked back at them and shrugged, unable to fault what Balin had said.

'You're a rather odd looking she-dwarf,' said Kili. Such a charmer, he was. I had frowned heavily at him and crossed my arms. 'It's just...not all, but quite a few Dwarven women have beards, and deep voices'. He'd paused. 'You're actually quite fair looking for a female of our kin'.

I had gaped at them. 'You're joking. Beards?'

Fili laughed outright at my expression of utter horror. 'We're a very hairy race, Miss Millie. Well, most of us are,' he said, eyes darting to his brother. I had noticed Kili's lack of beard and mustache. Instead, he had dark stubble and long hair. Kili glared at his brother, who hid a smile behind a cough.

Yum.

'I'm not going to start growing a beard, am I?' I asked, quite honestly very panicked. I rubbed my smooth, beardless cheeks, the thought of having thick hair there nearly bringing me to tears. 'Gandalf never told me that-'

Fili and Kili ignored my obvious distress, and jumped to a series of questions that they had obviously been itching to ask me.

'How much do you know about your own race?'

'Haven't you ever met other Dwarves before?'

'When did you meet Gandalf exactly?'

'Why were you wearing such odd clothes, before?'

I held my hands, shooing away their flow of questions. Despite their eagerness, I liked these two. They weren't overly serious, and it was easy to talk to them without feeling like I was being made fun of. Well, kind of. I'm pretty sure that they had said the beard comment to frighten me. 'Dudes,' I said. 'Calm'.

Kili blinked. 'What is a 'dudes', Miss Millie?'

For some reason, hearing him say the word brought an amused grin to my face. 'It's a term that you use for...I don't know, a friend, I guess'. With that, Fili placed a hand on my shoulder, smiled, and said,

'I am glad that you think we are 'dudes' then, Miss Millie'.

Do. Not. Laugh.

'Same,' I chocked out, having a laugh trapped in my throat. 'Now, what were those earlier questions?'

And so, I answered as many questions as I could. Let me tell you, Kili and Fili were a curious pair, and they didn't look much older than I did. Perhaps in their mid-twenties. I couldn't tell. Oh, how wrong I had been.

I told them that I had never met a Dwarf before, until now. The story I made up was pretty impressive, actually. Vague, but impressive. I told them that I had met Gandalf recently, and that the clothes I wore were considered quite normal from where I was from. I also told them that I did not speak Dwarven, and that I had zero combat abilities.

'You can't really do much, can you?' stated Kili, to which is brother whacked him around the shoulder. They'd stopped referring to me as Miss Millie, as I had told them to either call me Millie, or nothing at all. Miss Millie made me sound like a Disney cartoon character.

Kili looked up suddenly, as did Fili. I realized what they were so interested in, as I heard humming coming from the other room. Kili smiled at me, looking childishly excited, and said, 'you're going to want to hear this, Millie. If you are to join us on this quest, you must know this song'.

'For once,' said Fili, leading us through to the dimly lit sitting room. 'He is right'.

They were right, in fact. The room was filled with the Dwarves, dimly lit by the fire and the few candles that were littered around the room. It seemed almost eerie in there, despite how lovely the Hobbit Hole was. Thorin stared into the fire, leaning against the wall, smoke drifting from his mouth, and dispersing softly in front of him.

Then he began to sing, as did the others. I sometimes think that it was this song that made me want to go on the quest. I wanted to save the Lonely Mountain, and to reclaim the home of these Dwarves. The song was so sad, so full of want. Their voices were deep and melodic, soothing any previous boisterous excitement.

Far over the misty mountains cold.
To dungeons deep, and caverns old.
The pines were roaring on the height.
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread.
The trees like torches blazed with light.

I realized then, as I stood in the orange lit room, that tomorrow I would be going on an adventure with these men, who I scarcely knew. I would be going into the unknown and I was terrified.

Rightly so, it would seem.

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