Thorin, at that point into the night, had began telling a story. I can't really remember what it was about, other than Dwarves and caves, or something of the sort. Gloin joined in at odd points into the story, his voice gruff and proud, although once I had heard him utter something along the lines of, 'sodding Elves and their witchcraft'.

I was sat to the back of the sitting room, on a stool that was pushed up against the wall. My feet were tucked beneath me, still sore, but slowly beginning to heal, thanks to the absence of my evil, cursed converse shoes.

There was a round of agreement from the Dwarves who sat in front of the fire, and then Thorin began another story, this one, apparently, to do with Orcs. That actually rang a bell. Orcs were the gross, weird looking creatures from the Lord of the Ring films, I was sure of it.

Yeah, I hoped they weren't going to pop up anytime soon. The dragon would be quite enough.

Bilbo had long ago retreated to the safety of his bedroom, so that left the Dwarves, Gandalf and myself to amuse ourselves. Obviously, the Dwarves had chosen story telling, while Gandalf was pottering around somewhere in the Hobbit Hole. I half hoped that he was cleaning up, because, heck, we had made a mess in the kitchen. Couldn't he just do a Cillit Bang type thing, being a wizard and all? You know, Bang! And the dirt is gone!

Probably not.

'He's told us this story before,' said a voice quietly, and, of course, I had jumped quite violently, having had my eyes shut and my head leaning against the wall behind me.

'You scared me!' I half-whispered to Kili, who now sat on the armchair opposite me, away from the other Dwarves. His dark eyed stare was, I don't know, hard. I suppose that's the only way I can describe it, to this day. A lovely stare it was, though. One that had me shifting and blushing. 'How long have you been sitting there?' I asked suspiciously. I was pretty that I'd begun slipping down the wall behind me with my eyes closed, and my mouth slowly falling open.

How attractive. Ugh.

Kili seemed oblivious to my embarrassment, and shrugged. 'Not long,' he told me, leaning back into his seat and kicking his feet onto the small table between us. I blinked at him, wondering what he had wanted.

'Thorin is my Uncle, did you know that?'

Vaguely, I did. 'Gandalf mentioned it briefly,' I admitted. The words settled in, and so did realization. 'Gosh, I guess that makes you, like, royalty then, doesn't it?'

He seemed to find my dumbstruck expression amusing, because his mouth twitched into a boyish grin that resembled his brothers quite well. 'Does that intimidate you, Miss Millie? From what I gathered, you're not one to be bothered by the status of others. Royalty, especially'.

A reference as to how I had out-sassed his Uncle earlier. Touche, Kili. Touche.

His eyes traveled downward, and once again I found one of the Oakenshield brothers looking at my bare feet with an amused look. 'You are still not wearing any shoes,' he pointed out, quirking a brow. His eyes flashed up to mine, and his smile grew. 'You are an odd one, Miss Millie'.

I tucked my feet further underneath my butt. 'Find me some shoes, and they won't be bare anymore,' I replied blandly.

He paused, looked, then shrugged. Half turning in his seat, he shouted toward the gathering of now talking and laughing Dwarves. 'Mister Dwalin!' Oh, God no. 'I don't suppose you have a spare pair of leather boots in that knapsack of yours for Miss Millie here?' His voice was loud enough to silence most of the Dwarves, who all stared bemusedly at me from the other side of the room.

Then at my feet.

I tucked them so far beneath me that I nearly fell from my perch on the stool. 'Let the whole world know that I'm running around with bare feet, why don't you,' I'd hissed at Kili, who simply turned to laugh in my face, then back to Dwalin, easily catching the boots that the older Dwarf threw hazardously our way. Despite Kili's catch, I ducked and squeaked anyway.

'There you go!' said Kili, chucking the boots toward me. This time, I did not duck, which only resulted in me getting a face-full of dirty, leather boots.

'Thank you,' I muttered, pulling my feet from beneath myself to yank the boots onto them. They were quite loose around my calves. 'I'm going to have to tighten them with string or something,' I mused. Then, 'I'll do it later. I'm too tired now'. With that, I let the boots drop onto the floor, and leaned against the wall, my back aching with stiffness.

Then I looked back up to find Kili continuing to stare at me.

'What?'

'You've caught my interest,' he mused, crossing his legs on the table. 'As you have with many of us. You are unlike any woman that I have encountered. How old are you, if I may ask?'

Wow, change of subject much? 'I'm nineteen,' I'd told him. His eyebrows rose, and his mouth stretched into a wicked smile. 'Oh, what now? You don't look much older than me at all!'

'Brother!' shouted Kili, looking highly amused at my expense. 'Not only do we have a woman accompanying us on our quest, but a woman-child'. My mouth popped open, and I sat up in my stool, affronted. Fili glanced over, away from his conversation with Nori, looking almost excited to make fun of me once again. Of course he does, I could easily make fun of him. Who the hell braids their mustache?

'Do we now?' he asked loudly, capturing the attention of almost every single other Dwarf. I've known them for mere hours, yet I'm sure that they are hell bent on causing me as much pain as possible. 'And how many years is this woman-child you speak of?'

Kili practically cackled. 'Nineteen years, my brother!'

Nori laughed, 'but a babe!'

I look around at the snorting, amused faces. 'I don't get it!' I whined. 'I'm an adult'. More laughs. 'I am!' My voice, as it always did when I became distressed, went horribly high pitched by this point into my defensive speech. 'How old are you then?'

Kili laughed out a, 'I am seventy-seven, Miss Millie'.

Oh, hot damn.

I remember being both shocked and hysterically amused at the same time. 'You're joking,' I gasped out. 'You've gotta be joking. My Granddad isn't even that old, man! How long do you Dwarves live for?'

I almost expected Kili to drop onto the floor and start complaining about hip problems and bad pensions.

The Dwarves were shaking their heads, half amused and half baffled at my lack of knowledge. Gandalf's voice then sounded behind me, 'I informed you of Millie's complete and utter ignorance to her own kin, did I not?' he said, his voice full of humor. He stood in the doorway, stooping away from the low ceiling. Low for him, anyway.

'I did know how honest you were being, Gandalf,' replied Thorin. Even he was kind of laughing at me. Grumpy the Dwarf was laughing at me, of all people. 'And in reply to your earlier question, it is common for Dwarves to usually live to be two-hundred and fifty years old, Miss Fournier. Give or take a few years'. That earned a few more hearty chuckles.

My mouth was still gaping at the realization of how old the young-looking, attractive Kili was. 'Holy Hell, if you're seventy-seven, then I don't even want to know how old Balin is,' I uttered, referring to the heavily grey-haired Dwarf.

Word vomit strikes again.

The thirteen Dwarves boomed with laughter at my innocent statement, slapping the chuckling Balin on the back.

The now sobered Kili turned back to me, while Gandalf approached Thorin, who sat in front of the burning fire. Honestly, those two were always gossiping about something. 'I think that Fili may have a spare cloak you could borrow for the journey ahead,' he informed me, halfway more serious than he had been before. 'You will need something other than what you are wearing, for when the weather grows cold,' he said, in reply to my confused look.

The guy could change subjects in the blink of an eye.

'Oh,' I said. 'Thanks'. A brief pause was followed, which was surprisingly comfortable. The tiredness that I had been feeling before slowly begun to creep up on me again, taking a toll on the strength of my already drooping eyelids. That, and the warmth of the room had made me very sleepy indeed.

'I'm gonna have to conk out- er, go to sleep in a minute,' I told Kili through a yawn, who snapped out of whatever daydream he had been having. His sharp eyes were on me in a second, all serious all of a sudden. He stood from his place on the armchair.

'You cannot sleep on that stool, Miss Millie, you'll bend your back in all the wrong directions. Take the armchair before one of the other Dwarves does,' he explained, referring to the chair that he had just vacated himself from.

For a moment, I was surprised. One moment he would be laughing outright at me, and then the next he was being, well, like this. I half smiled at him, then snorted in a very unladylike manner. 'How gallant of you, Kili'. With that, I stepped across the coffee table, out of my seat, and into the comfy, warm armchair. I sunk deeply into it, curly my legs to my side and resting my head on one of the arms. I cracked open an eye, glaring up at the Dwarf. 'And quit calling me Miss Millie, I've told you'.

He grinned down at me. 'As you wish, Millie'.

I closed my eyes once again. 'Thank you. Now, I don't normally tell people this - not that you'll have any idea what I'm on about - but back home I'd usually play an Audio CD of Winnie the Pooh Adventures to help me get to sleep. Obviously, I do not have access to such things here. How'd you feel about talking me to sleep, Kili old pal?'

A pause, then the sound of the stool opposite me scraping lightly across the floor. 'Would you like a tale of the Dwarves?' he asked, his voice gruff, with that accent that sounded a little like home. I hummed a yes, and a 'go on then,' to which Kili replied with, 'as you wish, my Lady. Now, some say that the Dwarves were created by Aulë, though we refer to him as Mahal, which just means 'maker'. He wanted to teach his craftsmanship to someone, so he made the first Dwarves-'

By that point, I was fast asleep, dreaming of dragons, country roads, and beards.

The morning of the departure, I actually acted with common sense for once. I found upon a sewing kit in my bag and sewed said bag so that it reached the correct length for my new height. As well as this, I emptied out the Uni book that I would, obviously, no longer be needing. I kept the various sewing needles and threads, a pen, a small notepad, a pack of gum and a pot of Vaseline, though. The out of battery phone found itself on top of a desk, along with my book.

And, may I say, this was before anyone else had even awoken.

I, myself, had woken up with a cloak over my shoulders (I had a feeling it was the one that Kili had told me about), and a crick in my neck from sleeping in a bent position. Then again, if I had slept on the stool, I would have been in much more pain. On top of that, I had dribbled onto Bilbo's armchair. Let's hope Kili had decided to go to bed before witnessing that.

On top of sorting out my bag, I'd found a length of string that I'd cut and used to tie around the top of the leather boots that Dwalin had kindly given me (and by kindly, I mean thrown in my general direction). This took all of fifteen minutes, so I had stood in the middle of Bilbo's Hobbit Hole (oh my God), with my now - vaguely - fitted boots, and my bag hanging from a coat hanger.

Well.

You know those moments in someones story, when they do something that's so random, yet it's one of those iconic moments that's just known within the story. Bilbo has one of those, from the same tale as mine, but I will not tell you what.

I don't want to ruin the ending.

Anyway, one of mine was when I decided to quietly step though the Hobbit Hole doorway, leaving behind the snoring Dwarves, who were scattered around the sitting room, and the various other rooms in the house. From where I had woken up, I had seen Dwalin, Balin, Oin and Gloin all snoring heavily from their places on the sofa, and on the floor.

What I saw, from stepping through the door, was that The Shire was beautiful.

The hills rolled out in all directions, with the sun peaking over the green. Hobbit Holes were dotted about all of the hills, and fields were seen in the near distance. The air smelled of farm, grass and wheat.

It reminded me of home. Of the English countryside.

I'd found myself sitting on a bench in Bilbo's small front garden, staring out into the distance and struggling not to fall asleep yet again. The cloak that I had woken up in was fastened around me, although the air was quite cool and without chill.

'My nephews have been looking for you'.

My meaningful, dramatic stare into the distance was broken quite suddenly, and I turned accusingly to face the dark Thorin Oakenshield. He'd stood in the open doorway, his gaze fixed on the rising sun. He wore all of the gear that he had taken off the night previously. Upon finding my stare on him, he continued,

'All of my company seem to think that although you will not be a worthy addition to our group-'

To put it lightly.

'They made it known that they approve of you'.

I realized then, that he wanted me to say something. 'Well,' I said. 'Gee. Thanks'. It came out much more wooden sounding than I had anticipated. 'What about you?' I asked boldly. Or stupidly. Same thing.

Thorin studied me with his blue eyes, and then said, honestly, 'I think that you have much to prove. Although admittedly, like Mr Baggins, you have worth'. He turned away from me, and faced the doorway. 'Come. Bombur has prepared a meal before the journey ahead, and you will want to eat much before we leave. I suppose that you have a pack ready?'

'Yep'.

'Good. You will take turns in riding with my nephews. Firstly, because they have sturdier ponies, and secondly - as I have said - they have taken a liking to you and have offered to help with the fact that we are one pony short'. The 'I honestly can't see why' rung in the air behind his words, and I hid an eye roll and an amused smile. Part of me was sure that Thorin had a pretty sturdy pony that he just didn't want to share.

I just reread that, and oh, dear Lord.

'I'm just a likable person, I guess,' I muttered, following Thorin into the Hobbit's home. Unlike when I had left, the Hole was alive with the sound of plates clattering, and the smell of bacon cooking. 'Ah, food. My love, my life,' I breathed, walking into the kitchen and sitting heavily onto one of the wooden chairs. Thorin sat at the polar end, far from me.

'Hear, hear,' replied Bofur, sliding a plate across the table and in my general direction. 'Bombur, the little lass would like some of your morning cooking,' he called through the clatter of awaking Dwarves, yawning and the starting flow of chatter.

Finally, people who understood the true passion that I held for food.

'What about that pony?' I has asked, referring to the free pony that hung around the back of the others. Everyone else was saddled and ready outside of Bilbo's home, and all were waiting for me.

'That one is for Bilbo,' said Gandalf.

I quirked my head to the side, brightening up. 'Is he coming now?'

Gandalf, in all is wise glory, said rather mysteriously. 'He does not yet know that he is coming, but he will, do not fret. We will save the pony for when he catches up with us, Millie. Therefore, you will ride with Kili. Now, mount the pony'.

That could not sound more kinky, yet foreboding at the same time.

Admittedly, the whole company had been waiting for me to climb behind Kili and onto the pony. I just didn't really know how. 'You're gonna have to yank me up,' I informed Kili, who grinned down at me. Fili sat on the pony beside him, and watched with both interest and amusement. 'Don't laugh, man. I've never ridden any kind of animal before'.

'The girl has never ridden a pony before,' said Dwalin, stating the obvious. 'I sometimes fail to see her importance on this quest'.

I turned to face him, full of ready to fire sass. Heck, the finger of 'oh, no you didn't' was already raised and pointing in his direction. All I could sass out, though, was, 'firstly, mate-'

Before I could finish my well-prepared speech, Kili's horse promptly gave a large sneeze, scaring the heck out of me. I turned, arms in the air (ready to fight, obviously), and faced a hysterically laughing Kili. Several of the Dwarves, who had been talking among themselves, boomed out laughs. Thorin and Dwalin sighed and rubbed their foreheads.

Red in the face (from both the laughing, and the annoyed expressions), I hurriedly climbed atop Fili's horse, rather than Kili's. The latter seemed even more amused at my bitterness toward him laughing at me. To be fair, I would have laughed, had it been someone else.

You don't laugh at me and get away with it.

You guuuuuuys!

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