Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the character Devina. Everything else belongs to far luckier people than myself. To name a few would be

The Tolkien Estate, and Peter Jackson. Anything else you may recognise is either a coincidence or owned by someone else than myself.

Lament

Chapter II

Business Matters

Warmth enveloped her, she noticed when she slowly opened her eyes. That was strange. She had been running though the forest leading away from the road and it had been pouring rain. Vision coming into focus, she realized to was laying in an unfamiliar bed on her side, facing a fire in the hearth in the wall.

Startled, she sat up quickly and instantly regretted it. Throbbing pain coursed through her, leading from her bandaged hands and her head. Reaching up she discovered a bandage wound tightly around her head as well. Thats when she remembered how she'd come to hurt herself: she'd fallen over the edge of a steep drop off, down a cliff when the tree behind her had exploded. I should be dead, she thought to herself, amazed that she had somehow survived. Someone must have found her and brought her here.

That's when she heard a commotion on the other side of the door. What sounded like rattling of some kind, muffled laughter, and talking before loud singing began. She assumed her rescuer was watching television with the volume turned very high. Somehow the words were familiar to her, though she could not place from where.

Devina decided it would be better for her to get up and let her rescuer know she was awake and to thank them. Perhaps they would be willing to take her to town or call a cab. Standing on shaky feet, she made her way to the door and pulled it open quietly. She couldn't believe her eyes; the singing she originally thought to be coming for a loud television set was in fact coming from a large group of strangely dressed men. Their attire was nothing compared to the hair on most of them: nearly all had thick beards and intricate braids. Scratch that, two had no elaborate braids and one was was completely strangest part of the sight before her was that many were throwing dishes, glasses, knifes and forks throughout the hall. Out one room, down the hall, and into another. She was completely amazed that none were dropped or crashed against the floor and walls.

She stood quietly, her back against the now closed bedroom door. She was beginning to remember where she'd heard the song before, or rather, read the words right when the last line was shouted more than sung: "THATS WHAT BILBO BAGGINS HATES!" all the men with beards cried out and laughed. Their roaring laughter shook them all over. I have got to be dreaming, she thought when two of the men noticed her. The first to approach her was so tall his head nearly hit any low hanging lights from the ceiling when he didn't duck down far enough. He wore long worn grey robes and had a tall staff of gnarled wood. His silvery grey beard long enough to reach his belt. Though he wore no hat, she knew instantly who he represented in her dream.

Glancing to the right and behind him, one of the shorter men, or if she were correct, the tall dwarf, also approached her. His wardrobe consisted of a deep blue tunic with silver threading which was underneath the most interesting leatherwork she'd ever seen. Black pants tucked into metal and fur cover black boots. His hair was long like the other man's...wizard's. But where the wizard was all grey tones this dwarf was all blacks, blues, and silver. He had the blackest hair she'd ever seen. The only inconsistency with his hair was the silver streaks running through a few strands at the top of his head along with a thin braid on either side of his face with beautiful metal clasps at the ends. They where so simple compared to what she'd seen of the others and they were frequently hidden from view with his movements. He also wore a thick beard, but it was neatly trimmed close to his face. She was going mad. She was referring to these men as dwarves and wizards. Dream or no dream, she was going mad.

"Ah, my dear girl, it is a great relief to see that you are well and on your feet. I believe you gave my companion here a bit of a fright!" the tall wizard said in a soft, gentle voice, laughter tinting his tone. She couldn't do it. She simply could not put a name to any of them, though she knew exactly who they were. She refused. Devina continued to stand there dumbly, only staring wide eyed at the men in front of her.

"Why don't we come into the sitting room and speak for a moment," he smiled warmly at her. Placing his had on her shoulder, he didn't exactly give Devina an option. "We are both rather curious as to what happened to you before my friend here found you," he continued, as he propelled her past the now quiet and staring group of dwarves. She sat heavily down into the cushioned armchair the wizard lead her to while the dark dwarf leaned against the mantle of a beautifully masoned fireplace. The wizard, on the other hand, sat in the chair next to her.

"Allow me to introduce myself and my friend here. I am Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey, and your hero here is-" but Devina had found her voice at that moment. She would not believe what she was hearing and she refused to believe this was anything but a dream, one which she desperately wanted to come to an end.

"Dont! Dont sit there and try tell me that he is Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, because he is not, and you're not Gandalf the Grey. And there is no way they-" she pointed hysterically at the group of dwarves and one hobbit all peeking into the sitting room, "are Bilbo, Dwalin, Balin, Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Nori, Dori, Ori, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur!" she rattled off their names, surprising them all by both the fact she knew of them, and that she got them all correct. "There just isn't because they are all characters in a book!" she finished, sounding panicky. She didn't know where the hysteria was coming from, it was only a dream after all. But there was an uneasiness in her stomach that made her doubt that conviction. With her elbows on her knees, she buried her face in her hands and gave a shuddering breath. "This is just a dream. Just a dream," she began to quietly chant to herself. She completely missed the look of surprise on Gandalf's face or the one of suspicion on Thorin's.

Thorin moved forward and started to demand to know what she meant and how she knew them all, the protection of his kin and company at the forefront of his mind. He was about to grab the girl's arm when a stern look from Gandalf stopped him cold. Clenching his fists, he stepped back to his earlier position by the fire. He glowered at her while she stared wide-eyed after him but soon became self-conscious and stared down at her hands.

"My dear girl, I have no idea what it is you believe is actually happening here, but I can assure you that we are real and not, in fact, a dream or a figment of your imagination," the wizard spoke softly, though he still looked visibly concerned by what the girl had said. "Why don't you take a deep breath and tell us what happened to you; what you remember." he asked her again.

Thorin watched intently as she looked up, her eyes meeting with his. She studied him, her grey blue eyes filled with disbelief and even a little fear. "Okay," she said before tearing away her gaze to face Gandalf again. And all the while they listened to her tell her story, Thorin was sure of one thing: she was either lying and a danger to them all; or impossibly, this girl came through from another world by some sort of magic and knew something significant about them, and was a danger.

When the girl, Devina she had called herself, finished recounting everything she could remember there was silence. The other members of his company along with the hobbit had made their way into the room, curiosity bringing them to listen with rapt attention. Some had brought chairs from the dining room, while others simply sat on the floor.

She had made no mention again of this book they were all in or why she claimed they didn't exist, for which he was grateful, he did not need thoughts of a predestined journey to cloud their minds, whatever the outcome.

Thorin found himself pitying the girl as he watched her stare helplessly at her hands, lost in her own thoughts. He listened silently while Gandalf continued to speak with her, reassuring her that she wasn't dreaming, and that she would be safe there. That the man who had been chasing her through the woods, her betrothed though Thorin couldn't recall what she called him, could not harm her here. Nor would anyone present allow it even if he did find his way there.

There were suddenly shouts of agreement from the gathered dwarves which startled her from her wandering thoughts. She gave a small smile as they all continued amongst themselves about the respect due to women, and of cowards who would raise a hand against them, among a multitude of things that should befall those men.

"Thats enough!" he spoke loudly, and everyone quieted down. "As fascinating as this all is, we have business to discuss. Gandalf, when you have finished with Lady Devina, join us in the dining room" Gandalf simply gave him a small nod before turning back to the girl. He waited as the others, except the hobbit, filed back to the table in the other room. "Your presence is also required in this meeting Master Baggins," he added, watching as Bilbo nervously scrambled to his feet.

He was following the hobbit out of the sitting room when they both heard Gandalf ask her about the book, something Thorin was greatly interested in having explained more. Stopping they both turned around. Devina was watching Thorin with apprehension as she considered the wizard's question. Her gaze returned to Gandalf for a long moment before finding its way to the hobbit. It turned soft and sad, and then she returned her sight to him. He didn't understand why she looked so sad and forlorn as she sat there silent, watching him. It bothered him, making him feel a twinge of fear in his gut, and he began to bristle. Blaming her for making him feel like that.

"This is really happening to me, isn't it? This is all real?" she asked out loud. Though it wasn't particularly directed at any one person, Thorin found himself answering her. "Yes."

She only nodded and became serious, a determined look he couldn't explain taking place of any confusion, fear, or sadness that he'd seen moments before.

He had asked her about the book. She forgot that she'd stupidly shouted at them, claiming they weren't real, only characters in a book. Only she was beginning to believe Gandalf, she wasn't dreaming.

Devina stared at Gandalf, remembered how he always showed up in time, how he always got his friends out of trouble before hope of survival was lost. Except in the case of the dwarf standing in the room with her, or his nephews. Then she looked at Bilbo Baggins and she felt her heart warm instantly for the unlikely hero in this story. Reluctantly thrust into an adventure he has no real understanding of. She felt sad for the hardships he would face, but knew in the end that he'd treasure those memories and would do it again.

Lastly she looked at the heir of Erebor and grew full of sorrow and regret. While Tolkien's The Hobbit was perhaps her favourite book, she always felt a horrible ache at the end. The fate of the Durins' was tragic and cruel. The suffering of losing their home, wandering aimlessly while they tried to find their place in the world once more, their allies turning from them in their hour of need. To go on a quest that challenged them at every turn, to succeed in taking back their kingdom only to be struck down in battle. Knowing all this, what was the point of it all?

"This is really happening to me, isn't it? This is all real?" she asked to the silent room.

"Yes." It was Thorin Oakenshiel who answered her. Which surprised her, he'd hardly spoken apart from shouting at the others and dismissing themselves to discuss the journey ahead, and to hire on their burglar. This was all taking place now. They would head out at first light, for hundreds of miles, to the death of the Durins'.

Nodding her head, Devina sat up straighter. Not if she had a damned thing to say about it. For years she wished the ending would change. It was the same whenever she watched the Titanic and the crew waited on baited breathe, praying that they'd turned just enough to miss the iceberg. Every single time she prayed with them that history and the writers of that film just changed. That the senseless tragedy had been avoided. If she was really here, magically in the story, then she was going to do everything in her power to see them through to the end. Alive.

Turning to Gandalf, she took a deep breath. Thorin was going to be infuriated with her, but she was positive his stubbornness would disregard anything she said, and just to prove to her and the world that he made his own future, charge right into the ending and to his death.

"I'll tell you everything I know, Gandalf. But only you," She turned her head to the dwarf king, and knew she'd been right. He had a face like thunder. Before he could challenge her, she gave him an imploring look. "I promise, anything that is said is because I truly believe you can't know. But if Gandalf believes I should tell you, I will. Without hesitation."

She bit her lower lip and prayed he'd accept her promise. His face did not soften though. He glared at her and made a step towards her. Gandalf always the one to intervene, however, stood up and placed himself squarely between the two. "That, my dear, sounds perfectly reasonable. Besides," he continued, looking down at Thorin. "it is growing late and the others are waiting for you. Allow us to discuss one matter while you handle the other." Thorin gave a small growl in his throat before nodding and turning to go to the dining room. Bilbo hesitated before following after him.

"Gandalf, you will need to be in there. He wont allow Bilbo to take part in their journey without your insistence." Devina urged. They would fail without Bilbo, and it is Gandalf who gets him there. Gandalf regarded her for a moment.

"Perhaps it would be best if you told me only the important parts for now, and anything concerning our present situation. But lets step outside first. I could use a bit of fresh air" he motioned for her to follow him out of the sitting room, and she followed him. She waited to speak as they passed the dwarves, receiving a sour look from Thorin as they made their way down the hall and out the green door.

She was struck by the beauty of the garden, and the surrounding tree-covered hills. Everything even in the dark of night, looked so full of life and green. Tolkien had described hobbits as being gentle, loving gardens and farms, and comfort, but this world was so much more that she could have imagined.

Gandalf, clearing his throat, brought her back to the present. She looked up at him in awe, "it's just so much more than i could have imagined," she explained. She turned away from the beauty of Hobbiton to give him her full attention.

Wasting no time she blurted out, "They are going to die!" and instantly regretted it. "Not all of them," she quickly recovered. Gandalf just stood there, stone-still, with a look of fear on his old features, and she hated herself for it.

"Fili, Kili, and Thorin are going to die," she clarified flatly. "They will reclaim Erebor, but they will not live to see it restored." He grew thoughtful, his mouth making a chewing motion as he processed this.

"How?" he asked simply. Though he still looked grave, he did look visibly relieved. She could only guess that the majority of his fear came from a failed mission to stop evil from taking hold of the mountain; from Smaug possibly joining forces with that evil, and for Bilbo. She debated just how much she should reveal. She could very well change events that happened in their future; when Sauron came back, and not for the better.

"There is a battle, almost immediately after Smaug is defeated. They die during this fight. It becomes known as the Battle of Five Armies," she explained cautiously. "Men, Elves, Dwarves, and two armies at the behest of an old enemy. That evil doesn't win though. They are beaten." She could almost laugh at how absurd she sounded; like some omnipotent heroine out of a fantasy novel. Then again, she was in the world of one of those fantasy novels, wasn't she? "There are other things, little things that happen along the way, that play an important part in events that take place many years after. Oh Gandalf, allow me to come with you all! They cannot die; there simply has to be a way to change the ending of the book! Their very futures!" she pleaded, not giving the wizard a chance to say anything.

She was surprised to hear him chuckling. "My dear Devina, I think if would be unwise to leave you behind. If what you say holds true, you may be Thorin's only hope for reclaiming his home, and surviving this quest. Yes, I agree: you should come as well. As far as telling the others, I do not think it would be prudent to tell them the ending." Pulling a long clay pipe from within his sleeve, Gandalf set about cleaning it out. "No, I cannot see that ending well at all. For all their virtues, dwarves are rather stubborn, and Thorin is the most stubborn of the lot." He paused again to fill the pipe with his pipe weed and light it. He stood there for a long moment, puffing on the end. Little furls of smoke escaping the sides of his mouth. "Better to keep this business between ourselves for the time being," was all he said before he gave her another kind smile.

"Let us go back inside and join the others. Thorin will also need convincing that you are needed on this journey and I fear it will be very late indeed before that can be achieved." Nodding her agreement she followed Gandalf the Grey back inside the house. She could hear low voices talking, most noticeable being Thorin's, though she couldn't see them from behind Gandalf's tall stature.

"You're... going on a quest?" came the nervous voice of Bilbo. Stepping aside, Gandalf placed a hand on the hobbit's shoulder.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light, and another chair for Lady Devina," he said, taking his place at the table. Once seated he took out a map from his pocket, but waited for Bilbo and Devina.

"Right, quite right!" he remarked, hurrying to the sitting room and bringing back a chair for her before rushing off to the kitchen to retrieve a candle. Once the candle was on the table and Devina was settled with Bilbo standing beside her, Gandalf began to speak again. What he was unfolding was a map: a map of the Lonely Mountain and the lands surrounding it.

"Far to the east, over ranges and rivers," he began, as he straightened out the creases. "Beyond woodlands, and wastelands," he laid the map on the table and pointed to a sketch of a single mountain, with the figure of a red dragon flying overhead, "Lies a single, solitary peak" he finished.

Devina could feel Bilbo leaning over her shoulder to get a better look. "The Lonely Mountain," he read to himself. She couldn't help herself, it was a fascinating moment. The map looked so old but the writing and pictures drawn on it looked as fresh as the day they were made.

"Erebor," she heard herself saying, not really paying attention until she felt a pair of eyes burning holes into her. She could guess who it was without looking, and wasn't disappointed when she met the hard glare of Thorin. She wanted to say something, anything, but Gloin spoke up loudly before she had a chance.

"Oin has read the portents, and the portents say.." several of the dwarves were rolling their eyes or grumbling, while the others listened to Gloin intently. "..and the portents say it is time!" Many murmured their agreement and excitement over the news.

At mention of his name, Oin chimed in, "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold!" he said with conviction and began reciting the prophecy: "When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the Beast will end" he said dramatically.

Devina thought to herself that this would be as good a time as any to say something.

"He is right: It is time to retake your home. Others will be looking towards the mountain, if you do not take it back, someone else will," she started quietly at first, but as everyone else quieted and stared at her, she tried to speak louder and with more authority. She never was one for public speaking; she always grew shaky and her voice quaked when she was on the spot.

"And what would you know of it?" Thorin spoke, a low dangerous edge to his voice. Yep, he really was furious at her for being told he was not to know what her book said.

"A great deal more than you or I do, that is for certain, Master dwarf. And you will do well to listen to her," Gandalf chimed in. Before Thorin could argue, however, Bilbo spoke up.

"W-what beast?"

"That would be in reference to Smaug the Terrible," Bofur explained casually, completely missing the looks from Gandalf and Devina that clearly told him to not continue. "Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." he continued, clueless to the look of growing concern on Bilbo's face. "Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks…" Before he could say more Devina spoke up again, feeling pity for how scared Bilbo looked.

"Thank you, I think we all have a pretty thorough image of what a dragon is," she cut him off by saying. He only smiled at her brightly and continued to smoke his pipe that he had been waving for emphasis during his description. Bilbo smiled at her for her attempt to make the teasing stop.

"Yes I do know what a dragon is," he agreed. Suddenly, a very young and homely dwarf with a pudding-bowl hair cut jumped up, shouting, "I'm not afraid! I'll give him a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!" Many laughed right along with Devina - his bravado was charming. The dwarf next to him pulled him back down by his sweater and told him to sit down and hush.

They went on like this for several minutes: half arguing for the adventure, half not. Until a particularly handsome dwarf in the back spoke up enthusiastically. "And you forget, we have a wizard in our midst! Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!" Then they all started in on Gandalf, wanting to know how many dragons he'd slain. Devina couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips and she tried to smother another with her bandaged hand, earning a peculiar look for Thorin. The ruckus grew louder until Thorin shouted for them all to stop.

"If we have read these signs, then the girl is right, others will have also and be looking to the mountain. The dragon has not been seen for sixty years, and rumours are spreading. Will we wait here like others, weighing the risks, while the wealth of our people lays unprotected?" She had to give him credit: he had an impressive presence and his speech was even rallying, but she had to stop him - they had to know for sure what they faced.

"It is not." she began, cutting him off before he could finish. "While you are right, that you need to act, it is not unprotected. I can tell you beyond any doubt that Smaug is still alive, and still in the mountain; he is sleeping."

The silence broke as every dwarf in the room broke out into shouts - some claiming she was a liar, some demanding to know how she knew, others doubting her all together. But it was their leader she watched. He glanced at his men and stared back at her. He did not need to shout this time; when he spoke they all went silent again.

"And what would you have us do?" he asked mockingly, though she could sense that he truly wanted to know what he needed to do.

"You need a burglar, as Gandalf has told you. You need Bilbo Baggins. And you need me," she said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

UPDATED

This chapter has been edited and cleaned up as of 10/30/16