I don't really think this chapter is the best one I've ever written, but it's longer than Wednesday's chapter.
I think.
Fuck it, I have followers to please. Here you go.
The company made good time, they made it to a cave in the side of a hill a few miles outside of the Old Forest. This is where Thorin decided to make camp.
Cheyanne slid off of Myrtle and helped Bilbo down before passing the pony off to Kili. The young dwarf grinned at her. "Some first day, hmm?"
She stretched her arms over her head. "I hope I'm not sore tomorrow," she told him.
Kili laughed and led Myrtle away. Cheyanne smiled and gazed around at the company. Dori and Nori were attempting to get a fire going while Bombur searched through packs for food to cook. Others were rolling out sleeping pads within the cave, and Fili and Kili were taking care of the horses just outside of it.
Thorin, Gandalf, and Balin were standing near the entrance of the cave, talking over Thorin's map. Cheyanne scooted closer so she could hear what they were saying.
"Thorin, we must go to someone who can find the secret in this map," Gandalf was encouraging quietly when she approached.
The dwarf sent a contemptuous glare in the wizard's direction. "We do not need help," he growled. "This is our quest, my map. I don't want anyone to find out what we aim to do."
"With all due respect, Gandalf, he is right," Balin said. "This map is Dwarven, and that means it's for us dwarves."
"You dwarves are getting nowhere with this map," Gandalf told them. "You need help."
"I can tell you what the secret is," Cheyanne spoke up before she could think about it. All three of them turned to look at her, and she sheepishly crossed one leg over the other. "If you want me too, of course."
Thorin was the first to say something in response. "You couldn't possibly know anything about this map."
Cheyanne fumed. "The reason you can't find anything is because you're not looking right," she muttered. She then turned and stalked off, angry.
"Cheyanne," Gandalf called after her, but she ignored the wizard, plunking down beside the fire the dwarves had managed to get started.
Dwalin sat down beside her and took a long drink from the wine skin he was holding. "You certainly don't look happy," he commented.
"I'm not," she mumbled. "Your king is rude."
Dwalin chuckled. "Yes, but so are you." He offered her the skin, but she shook her head. He took another drink for himself and gave her a friendly pat on the back. "Give him a bit; he'll warm up to ya after a time."
Cheyanne scoffed and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "I doubt it," she said softly, gazing into the flames.
"Miss Baggins." Cheyanne heard Balin, and she glanced in his direction for a brief moment.
"What?"
"I understand that Thorin may have sounded harsh," Balin said gently, "but it was only because the chances of you knowing anything about the map for sure are very slim. You understand that, yes?"
"Except I do know about the map," Cheyanne told him coolly. "Unfortunately, Thorin appears to think what I know is useless and untrustworthy, so I'm afraid I can't help you."
Balin sighed but didn't say anymore. She saw him walk off from the corner of her eye, and Dwalin watch him go before he looked at her.
"You really are angry, aren't you?"
"Of course I am!" Cheyanne exclaimed hotly. "I came on this journey to offer my help, and nobody wants it. Why am I here if the purpose I can serve is wasted on a company that doesn't want it?"
"So far, I've only seen Thorin say he didn't want your strange foretellings," Dwalin said. "Nobody else seems unappreciative."
Cheyanne lifted her head and looked around at the other dwarves. Dori was frowning and muttering something to Gloin, but Oin and a few of the others were counting the money they had made in the bet about her judgment on Bilbo's arrival. Oin felt her gaze and looked up. He grinned and waved a coin at her happily.
Dwalin glanced at her. "You see? You're already making friends."
Cheyanne allowed a small smile and bumped against Dwalin's shoulder with her own. "You're not too terrible," she told him.
He shrugged. "Never thought I was."
Bilbo sat down on her other side with a groan. She lifted an eyebrow at the noise. "Hurting?"
"All over the place," Bilbo confirmed. He huffed and stared into the fire for a long time before finally speaking again: "Cheyanne is a bit of an unusual name."
She snorted. "I had unusual parents," she told him. "Nothing would change their minds."
"I like it." Fili and Kili sat down nearby, and the older of the two smiled at her. "It's pretty."
His brother tugged on one of Fili's braids. "You mean like these things?"
Fili pulled his hair from Kili's fingers. "At least I try to look presentable," he said. "Meanwhile, you're sitting here with your hair out and tangled."
Kili self-consciously touched his hair. "It's not tangled!" He sent a look over at Cheyanne. "Is it?"
She shook her head. "You're fine."
Kili haughtily turned to his brother, but Fili was no longer paying attention. Cheyanne shrugged when he looked over at her, and the young dwarf rolled his eyes and rested his head on his arms.
Cheyanne leaned back on the sleeping mat, putting her weight on her elbows. One day with them and I'm already getting attached, she thought sadly. What am I going to do when my dreams stop, or when I have to say goodbye to them because the story has ended?
She shook her head to pull herself out of her thoughts. Bilbo was attempting to hand her a bowl, and she took it hesitantly. Gazing over the brim, she saw a thick brown stew looking back up at her.
She leaned across their mats to Bilbo. "I think my stew has a face," she whispered.
Bilbo snorted, and in turn started to choke on the swallow he had just taken. He coughed roughly, and Cheyanne took his bowl so he wouldn't spill, laughing. Bilbo coughed a few more times before he cleared his throat. Cheyanne lifted her arm up and wiped her teary eyes on her sleeve before handing the bowl back to Bilbo.
"Sorry," she apologized with a final giggle.
He shook his head and grinned. "It wasn't even that funny."
"I know; that's why I was laughing. My joke was so bad it almost killed you," responded Cheyanne.
On her other side, Dwalin let out a laugh of his own. "That one was funny," he told her.
Cheyanne grinned and took a small swallow of her own stew. It actually wasn't that bad. She took a longer drink and allowed herself to look at Thorin. The dwarf was leaning against the wall of the cave, his own sleeping mat pulled away from everyone else's. He stared out over the company with a steeled face, so she couldn't tell what he was thinking.
Cheyanne turned her eyes away before he caught her looking at him. That was the last thing she needed. She turned her gaze instead to Bilbo. The hobbit had set down his bowl, half empty, and was lying down on his sleeping mat, staring into the fire.
She leaned towards him again and whispered, "I would finish that. There's going to be a point in the future when you wish you had food."
Bilbo shifted his eyes to her, and she nodded. He sighed and sat up again, picking up the bowl once more. Cheyanne smiled as he took a sip, and she lifted her bowl to her own lips.
The dwarves finished their stew quickly, and many pulled out pipes to smoke. Gandalf wasn't left out; he was the only one that sent smoke rings out of the cave and into the air.
When everyone had finished eating, the company sat in a silence, comfortable. After a long time, however, Bofur turned to Cheyanne.
"So, when exactly did you get your powers?" he queried curiously.
The others all looked at her as well, and she felt her cheeks get warm. She glanced down at the ground with a nervous laugh. "Uhm, it was about three years ago," she replied, deciding to base it off of the movie release dates. "That's when I noticed it. It wasn't very..." She trailed off, searching for a word.
"Prominent?" offered Gandalf.
"There you go," she said gratefully, nodding at the wizard.
"What's it like?" Nori asked, even though his brother gave him a look of annoyance.
Cheyanne shifted her eyes to the fire. "It's like... Flashes of things. Sometimes they're crystal clear and other times they're fuzzy. If I'm lucky, I can get a grip on it and watch it for a longer time."
She was completely making this up, of course, but the dwarves murmured amongst themselves curiously. She felt a familiar feeling gaze on her, but she didn't turn to meet it.
"So," Ori said, interrupting the chatter, "you know if we kill the dragon, then?"
They all looked at her, and she shrugged. "Smaug dies. As for who kills him, I cannot say."
A ripple of excitement rose through the dwarves. "I bet it'll be Dwalin" someone called.
"I'll double that bet on one of Kili's arrows!" another answered.
"You both are wrong," a third said. "It'll be Thorin who takes down the beast, no doubt."
Arguments rose as they began to take bets on who they thought would kill Smaug. Ori, who was designated bet-keeper, was struggling to keep all the sacks of coins thrown at him in order. Dwalin glanced sideways at Cheyanne. "You entertain them, if nothing else," he said.
"'Suppose I do," she answered. "But I don't think any of them are correct."
Dwalin frowned. "You don't?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "Just a feeling," she admitted.
Dwalin hmphed and rose. "I think I'll place my own bet, then," he said, heading towards Ori.
Cheyanne lay back on her mat, gazing up at the roof of the cave. Fire reflected on the stone, turning it orange. She let out a breath and closed her eyes in exhaustion. It had been a long day of traveling.
As soon as she fell asleep in Middle-Earth, however, she woke up in Texas to the sound of her alarm clock, buzzing two hours before it normally did. She had set it early so she would be able to write out her dream before she had to get ready for work.
Cheyanne groaned and rolled over, hitting the button. The last thing she wanted to do was get up. She was still sleepy, which didn't make sense whatsoever. She had gone to bed at a formidable time; there was no reason why she shouldn't feel more awake.
Moaning, she went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth before wandering back into her bedroom and plunking down in front of the computer. She struggled to keep her fingers on the keyboard, and it took her longer than it should have to write out the important parts of last night's dream. When she finally finished and was printing it out, she only had thirty minutes to get ready.
She quickly pushed the writing into her bag and scurried to get dressed. She had to go to work so she could talk to Gary about the dreams.
Within minutes, she was scurrying down the street of her small town, bag slung over her shoulder. She made it to Dreamer's with two minutes to spare, and she stopped as soon as she entered, resting her hands on her knees and taking several deep breaths.
Gary was standing behind the counter, and he gave her an honest look of concern. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I don't know," responded Cheyanne between breaths. "I think so." She straightened up and held out her bag.
Gary took it hesitantly. "Is there something in here I should be afraid of?"
"Not unless you're afraid of my writing," Cheyanne told him. "Two new installments ready to be read."
Gary shook his head and pulled the loose papers from her bag and turned to go into the back room to read it. Cheyanne hesitated a moment.
"G." He paused and looked at her. "I'm gonna need to talk to you when you're done."
Gary frowned, but nodded once. "Man the counter until I come back."
He disappeared through the door, and Cheyanne walks around to the other side of the counter to take her place behind the register. The bell over the door chimed, and Cheyanne looked up, expecting a customer, but it was only Jon.
He grinned at her and walked over to the counter. "Is he reading it?" he queried, nodding to the door.
"Yeah," Chey replied.
"And have you brought up the possibility of your dream being real?" Cheyanne gave him a look, and Jon huffed. "No. I should've guessed."
"I want him to read it first, so he can judge it for himself," Cheyanne mumbled, casting a glance over her shoulder. She turned back to Jon and gnawed on her lip. "I did a bit of a test, to see if you were right."
"And?" Jon asked enthusiastically.
"I wore jeans to bed, and I put a tissue in the pocket before I feel asleep." He nodded, and she let out a breath. "When I got to Middle-Earth, it was still in there."
"Oh my God," Jon breathed. "This is insane, Chey."
"I know!" she exclaimed. "I don't know whether to be freaked out or amazed. Right about now, I'm a little bit of both."
Jon leaned turned around and leaned back against the counter. "I- I don't know what to say," he said at last. "I'm terrified."
"Okay, can we not talk about it until Gary is done reading?" she asked him as a costumer came into the store. "I don't want people thinking I'm crazy."
"I already do, so, I guess that's enough for now," Jon agreed. He joined her behind the counter, and together, they took care of the shop for the forty-five minutes Gary was gone. When he finally emerged, Cheyanne was standing near a bookshelf and Jon was playing with the little table top bell on the counter.
The sound of the door shutting drew Cheyanne's attention, and she looked up. Gary was shaking his head, holding the papers in one hand. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as Chey hurried over to the counter.
She leaned across it. "Well?"
"It seems it's starting out slow," Gary told her, "but that's to be expected."
Cheyanne and Jon exchanged a glance. "What do you mean?" she asked the old man.
"I mean that with the direction you seem to be going, it's good to ease into the story," he replied. "This isn't some random piece of writing you have here, Cheyanne; this is Tolkien."
Cheyanne swallowed. "You're right, I guess," she said quietly. Jon shot her a look, and she shifted her eyes back to Gary. "Uh, G? Can we talk about that thing?"
He looked around the store to make sure there were no waiting customers before he nodded. "Quickly."
Cheyanne let out a breath. "I… I don't think it's just dreams I'm having, Mr. Hoffman," she mumbled. "I think they're real."
Gary's eyebrows furrowed. He glanced around the shop once more before he gestured to the door. "We're closed," he said to Jon. "Go flip the sign and lock the door." He went to do just that, and Gary leaned across the counter towards Cheyanne. "What are you talking about?" he asked her as Jon came back.
"Well, Jon noticed that I was being rude to Thorin, and I said that it wasn't me, it was dream me. Jon came up with this insane idea that maybe I was actually controlling what I did in my dreams. I thought it was crap at first, but I decided to test his theory last night." Gary continued to stare at her. "I went to sleep in jeans, and in the jean pocket I put-"
"The tissue," Gary finished. Cheyanne nodded slowly, and the bookstore owner shook his head. "I don't know what to think of this," he said under his breath.
"You think you're confused?" Cheyanne cried. "I'm the one having the dreams, G! I'm scared for my life!"
"Calm down, Cheyanne," soothed Jon as he put an arm around her shoulders. "Nothing can happen to you in your dreams."
"Isn't it apparent by now that they aren't dreams?" Chey demanded. Her shoulders shook, and she sucked back tears that had decided to appear from nowhere. "I don't... What do I do?"
"Cheyanne," Gary said. She looked at him, and saw that he was playing with the papers. "I think you need to finish this out," he told her.
"What?" She was shell-shocked; from Jon, this was expected, but from Gary? He was the most down to Earth person she knew, and yet he was telling her she should let whatever was happening in her mind run its course?
He nodded. "I know, I sound crazy, but I'm being serious. I don't think you have any other choice. Besides, these... Occurrences might mean something."
"They mean I watch The Hobbit too damn much," she muttered.
"Could be that," agreed Gary, "but it could also be something else."
"What do you mean?" Jon asked him.
"Dreams hold a person's deepest thoughts and wishes, Mr. Davenport," Gary replied. He looked at Cheyanne. "They often reveal what a person wants or needs the most."
Cheyanne narrowed her eyes. "You think I want to be a part of all that?"
"Perhaps," Mr. Hoffman said. "Or perhaps you need to be a part of it."
That dropped a stone into her stomach. "You don't really think-?"
Gary held up his hand. "I don't know what to think, Miss. Phillips," he sighed. "I do know one thing, though, and that is that you need to take a week or so off and just... Sleep."
Jon glanced at her. "Maybe if you finish the plot line for the first movie, you'll stop having them," he suggested.
Gary didn't look like he agreed, but he nodded all the same. Cheyanne let out a tired groan and covered her face with her hands for a brief moment.
She was going to have to try, she decided. What other choice did she have? She needed to get to the end, and then the dreams would stop, and she could go back to feeling awake even when she slept for eight hours.
She lowered her hands and nodded. "Alright," she said determinedly. "I guess I'm off to Erebor."
Jon grinned. "You're going on an adventure," he said jokingly.
Cheyanne didn't return the smile.
Well. That was... Quick. What chapter is this, even? Four?
Ah, well, you know what they say. When you're uploading a FanFiction for three different sections of one movie, you gotta move it along. I still have two more FanFictions after we finish An Unexpected Journey, so by the end, Maybe I Won't Go Back Again might have like... Fourty chapters or something.
Thank you to everyone who's been hoping on this gravy train with me. I really appreciate it.
Let's see how the remainder of Chey's journey goes, eh?