Hi! How're y'all doing? Here am I, uploading chapter 1 of the DoS section of MIWGBA. Gosh, that's a long acronym. Is that even the right word?
Anyway, following this A/N is a recollection of what has happened previously. For convenience.
The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug (Maybe I Won't Go Back Again: Part 2)
Previously on Maybe I Won't Go Back Again:
Cheyanne Phillips, a young adult living in an unnamed small town in Texas begins to have dreams about the worldwide popular movie series The Hobbit, an adaptation of the book There And Back Again by J.R.R. Tolkien. In her dreams, Cheyanne travels alongside Gandalf, Bilbo, and the company of dwarves as they make their way towards the Lonely Mountain in order to reclaim the lost kingdom of Erebor.
At least, Cheyanne thinks they're only dreams until her best friend Jon Davenport points out that they might not be, and Cheyanne does a test to see if Jon is right. Turns out he is, and, unfortunately, Cheyanne doesn't know how to get out of these not-actually-dreams dreams. Her employer, Gary Hoffman, who own the bookstore Dreamer's Books and other Media, gives her some friendly advice that basically says she might belong in Middle-Earth.
A bit of a big deal, right?
Now Cheyanne has completed her first leg of the journey and has proven to the stubborn Thorin Oakenshield that her "foretellings" are actually real, and not just something she's making up. Because they're not. Because she knows what happens on the journey because of the movies. Of course, the company isn't allowed to know that; they would think she's crazy.
She might be crazy, of course. I mean, hell. She's living her dreams which aren't actually dreams.
As for the piece that makes it all so much better, she's beginning to think about Thorin in a way she shouldn't. Talk about drama.
Oh, Chey. What are you gonna do when the time of the Battle of the Five Armies arises? Well, I suppose that can be saved for the next part. After all, this is DoS, not BotFA.
Let's get back into it.
"Cheyanne?" She stirred at a voice, waving her hand sleepily to brush whoever it was away. She rolled over onto her side, half-asleep. "Chey."
"I'm trying to sleep, Bilbo," she muttered under her breath. "Go away."
"Cheyanne, its Jon!"
The voice registered in her mind to be the one that belonged to her real best friend, and not the hobbit that she had adopted as her cousin. She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the wall in her Texas apartment instead of some cave wall that Thorin Oakenshield's company had set up camp in for the night.
Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder and found Jon Davenport sitting on her other side, concern written all over his face. "You recognize me, don't you?" he asked her carefully.
"Of course I do!" exclaimed Cheyanne. She sat up, fully awake now, and stretched her arms over her head. She felt extremely stiff but loose at the same time. Shaking out her limbs, she grinned at him. "What's going on?"
"What's going on?" Jon shouted. He rose up off of her bed and gaped down at her. "You've been asleep for three days straight, Cheyanne!"
She blinked a few times as this settled. "Th-Three?" she whispered. "Good lord." She fell back against her pillows, licking at her dry lips. Her stomach rumbled and she suddenly had a very insistent need to pee, not to mention how grungy she felt and the nasty taste in her mouth.
She smacked her lips together, and they popped. Jon held out his hands, still staring down at her. "Are you going to speak, or am I just going to have to stand here and look at you like an idiot?" he asked in annoyance.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "Just let me get my bearings for a second, alright?" She gazed around the bedroom in her apartment. Her apartment was where she lived. Where she actually lived. Her friend Jon was standing beside her bed, her real, tangible friend Jon who was not a fictional character. She had a life, one that didn't involve Middle-Earth whatsoever except for the occasional movie watching and/or book reading. That was it.
She let out a breath and sat up fully again. "Okay, I need to brush my teeth and take a shower," she said slowly. "And then I will meet you at the Bean Machine."
"Are you sure you're going to meet me and not slip into another coma?" Jon queried. "Because I'm not leaving unless you're positive."
She smiled at him. "I'm sure. Go. I'll be there in like… thirty minutes or so, alright?"
Jon studied her for a long moment before he turned and walked out of her bedroom. She heard the front door of her apartment close, and she sat on her bed for a moment longer, gazing around the room. She was in Texas. She was in the real world. She wasn't in the world her mind had created based off of Middle-Earth.
She was awake, and it was time to go back to doing real life things.
The time she spent in the shower probably equaled half of whatever her water bill would be that month. It just seemed like, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't wash Middle-Earth out of her skin or her hair. She scrubbed and scrubbed, and yet, even when her skin gleamed pink from being washed too hard, she still felt a layer of dirt caking her entire body.
She changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top, tossing the dirty jeans and t shirt towards the laundry hamper. She glanced around her apartment again. She couldn't grasp the fact that she was actually there. She kept feeling rocks under her feet and a cool beginnings-of-autumn breeze on her face.
Cheyanne slowly sat down on the edge of her bed to breathe. She inhaled slowly, and exhaled even slower, closing her eyes. As soon as she did, however, she could see her company of dwarves, all of them chuckling and waving at her happily. She saw Gandalf with his staff and pointed hat grinning at her. She saw Bilbo standing near him, giving her a small smile of his own that was extremely similar to the way she grinned.
And she saw him. Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the group she was now a part of, standing further away but still watching her with that damn blue gaze he saved especially for her. She swallowed thickly and forced herself to open her eyes again, grateful that when she did she was in her apartment.
She stood up quickly and hurried out of her apartment, not wanting to risk falling asleep again. She hustled down the street and into the Bean Machine. Jon was sitting at their usual table near a window, and she went over to him, sliding down carefully into the wicker chair across from his.
Jon watched her as she glanced around the coffee house and then down at the coffee and muffin he had ordered for her. She slowly picked up the muffin and bit into it. Her stomach resisted the rich chocolate taste, and she gagged, spitting the bite into a napkin.
"Cheyanne, you look awful," Jon told her.
"I was asleep for three days," Cheyanne responded shakily. "What do you want from me?"
She attempted to drink the coffee, but had to spit it back out as the taste sent a shudder through her whole body. Jon let out a breath and reached downwards into what she lovingly called his "Man-Purse". He pulled out a water bottle and undid the cap before pushing it towards her across the table.
Cheyanne took it and gingerly took a sip. The water flowed over her tongue, and she felt it reach her stomach. Greedily, she drank some more, until the whole bottle was gone. She set it down on the table, wanting more. Jon gazed at her all the while, eyebrows furrowed.
"Chey, are you alright?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know," she answered. "I-I don't think… No."
"Cheyanne, look at me." She met his worried blue gaze. "What happened?"
"I mean… I finished it. At least, the first part. We… We were left on the Carrock by the eagles, and the Lonely Mountain was in the distance, purple against the sky." She grinned at the memory. "It was beautiful, Jon. I wish you would have been able to see it."
"And so, do you think that's it, then?" Jon questioned gently.
Cheyanne frowned. Was it? She wasn't sure whether she wanted it to be, or if she was going crazy and didn't want it to be over. Perhaps a little of both. "I don't know, Jon," she said after a moment. "I… I don't think it is."
"You don't think it is, or you don't want it to be?" he asked her, reading the expression on her face.
She shook her head and looked at him. "I don't know. I mean, I think I want it to be over, but at the same time…" She trailed off and shifted her gaze to the table. "I'm starting to sound insane, aren't I? Three days ago, I was freaking out over the fact that this was real, and now I'm starting to realize that I was actually okay with it. What is going on with me?"
"Chey, relax," Jon said sternly. "You're only going to end up worse if you keep freaking out." Cheyanne took in a deep breath, and he nodded. "Good."
"I think we need to go see Gary," she told him after a moment had passed.
"And we will, but I need you to eat something first. You don't look good." Jon stood and walked towards the counter. Cheyanne absentmindedly played with the empty water bottle lid and stared out the window. She needed to go back. She needed to finish it.
Jon came back with a plain roll, unbuttered. He set it down in front of her, and frowned when he saw the look on her face. "What?"
She pulled a piece off of the roll and nibbled on it. "I have to go back," she told him.
"You what?" demanded Jon. People looked over at their table, and he lowered his voice, "You cannot do that to yourself again, Cheyanne."
"What if I don't have a choice?" she asked him.
"Then you don't!" Jon responded hotly. "But that'll be better than you actually wanting to keep doing this!"
"Will it? What if it kept happening and I didn't want it to?" she queried. "Isn't it better that I don't mind going back than dreading going to sleep every night?"
Jon let out a breath and shook his head. "You really need to think about what you're saying. You're telling me that you don't care if you go back to Middle-Earth? Fake, not-actually-there Middle-Earth?" She shrugged, and Jon covered his face with his hands. "I can't believe I'm hearing this."
"Well, you are. I can't say anything else other than that I don't… I don't mind if I have to go back. I need to help them get the mountain back." She reached forward and pulled Jon's hands away from his face. "I need to see this through."
"You already have. You've done your part," Jon told her. "You don't need to do anything more."
"There's no way of knowing that for sure, Jon," Cheyanne replied. "Not until I fall asleep again. And if I happen to get put back in Middle-Earth, then that's all there is too it, and I won't complain. If I don't, well, I'll probably be slightly disappointed."
"And that's the crazy part. It isn't real, Chey. How in the world could you have a mindset like that?" Jon asked.
She shook her head. "I can't explain it yet, but there's just… I feel like… I-" She cut off when she saw Gary Hoffman enter Dreamer's Books and other Media across the street from the Bean Machine. She stood and hurried out of the coffee house, abandoning her half-finished roll. She was aware of Jon following her slowly, as though reluctant.
She went into the bookstore and called Gary's name. The old man appeared from the backroom. He blinked and lifted his glasses. "Are you back already? It hasn't been a week, has it?" he questioned.
"Not yet, G," Cheyanne replied, "but I woke up."
"Well," Gary began, settling down on the stool behind the counter. "What happened?"
Cheyanne began to regale the events of her dream, being careful to leave out unnecessary information and information she didn't want to share, like the part about Thorin saving her more than once and him asking her if she was alright near the end. Gary didn't need to know about that.
She finally completed her tale, and Gary gazed at her in silence for a minute. Cheyanne glanced at Jon, who was also hearing the full story for the first time. Her friend met her eyes briefly and then turned away, looking towards the bookshelves.
After a moment, Gary hummed to himself. "Sounds like you had quite the adventure, Miss Phillips," he mused.
"I did," confirmed Cheyanne.
"Tell him what you told me, Chey," Jon said quietly. Cheyanne looked towards him, and he crossed his arms. "Do it."
Cheyanne sighed and turned back to Gary, who was watching her carefully. She shifted her eyes to the floor. "I want to see the rest of the journey through."
"Well, that's not surprising at all," Gary answered immediately. She looked up in surprise, and he nodded in understanding. "You've started the journey, and now you want to finish it. You were always a finisher, Cheyanne."
She smiled slightly at his acceptance, but Jon was flabbergasted. "No! Gary, you were supposed to tell her she's nuts! Now she's going to go back into a coma and never wake up again!" He slapped his hand against his forehead. "Why did you do that?"
"Jonathan, there is no guarantee Cheyanne will even be able to return to Middle-Earth," Gary told him calmly. "Her dreams may be over."
Hearing this, Cheyanne frowned. She didn't want them to be over. As soon as the thought entered her mind, she understood why Jon believed she was crazy. She wanted to return to a fake place via a dream.
Maybe Jon was right. Maybe she was crazy.
Crazy or not, she knew that she wanted to finish what she had begun. If she couldn't she would be very upset.
This must have shown on her face, and Gary lifted an eyebrow. "I wouldn't count on her dreams being over, however. It's unlikely they could have just ended there."
Jon huffed in contempt. He leaned against the wall beside the door of the store and hung his head for a long moment. After a time, he looked up and let out a breath. "If you're dead set on going back, then I'm not going to say anything other than that you're insane. I hope you realize it."
"I do," Cheyanne assured, "and the problem is that I don't care. I need to see the journey completed, and if that means going back to sleep for a month, then I will."
Jon shook his head. "I'll never understand you, Cheyanne Phillips," he told her solemnly. "And in a way, I'm sort of glad." He leaned away from the wall and put his hand on the door handle. "I still have the key to your apartment. If you don't appear in a week, I'm coming to check on you."
Cheyanne smiled at how much he cared. "Thank you, Jon. I'll see you soon, alright?"
"Yeah, sure." The bell over the door jingled, and Jon left. Cheyanne watched him walk down the street through the big bay window before she turned to Gary.
The bookstore owner was already gazing at her. "Are you positive?" he asked her. "I don't know when you'll wake up again if you're not."
"How do you know so much about this, Gary?" she asked him curiously, avoiding the question.
Gary merely smiled and tapped the side of his head. "Need to know, Miss Phillips."
Cheyanne frowned, not understanding, but she didn't push it. Whatever secrets the old man had were his to keep. She wasn't going to try and get it. She'd been trying to do that for a long time, and nothing ever seemed to click.
Rather than question him further, she dipped her head. "I guess I'd best go home and go back to sleep."
Gary eyed her. "Don't you want to eat something first? You look a little pale," he said gently.
"I already tried eating. I didn't go very well. And besides, I'm not hungry. In fact, what I want more than anything right now is to go back to bed," Cheyanne realized. She shook her head. "I don't get it, G."
"You probably never will. At this point, you can only go back to sleep and finish what you've started," replied Gary.
"Then that's what I'm going to do!" Cheyanne said in determination. "I'll see you, Gary, though I'm not entirely sure when."
"Me either, kiddo," he answered, "but it'll happen."
"Thanks, G," Cheyanne said. She ducked out of the store and went back up the street to her apartment building. She gazed up at the building, letting out a breath. "Please, take me back," she said quietly.
When she reached her apartment, she put on different clothing before going into the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment. Her eyes shifted to the laundry hamper, and she turned to it. Reaching into the pocket of the pants she'd worn before, she lets out a noise of surprise when her fingers touch something cold.
She pulls out the crystal Fili had given her. It sparkled in the lights of the bathroom, and, when she stepped out, shutting them off, it glowed in the daylight coming from the window.
"I can't believe I still have it," she whispered to herself.
Shaking her head, she slides the crystal into her pocket. She paused however, realizing it was possible she would lose it if she did manage to go to Middle-Earth. She glanced at the bookshelf in the corner of her bedroom and bit her lip. Should she leave it behind?
After a moment of deliberation, she decided against it. She would just have to keep it safe.
She gazed around her bedroom one last time. There was no reason to check if anything unnecessary was plugged in because she hadn't changed a thing from before. She was ready to try and continue the journey.
Cheyanne laid down on the bed and flipped over. It was almost obnoxious how quickly she fell asleep once her head hit the cold side of the pillow. As soon as she felt a cold breeze on her face, she opened her eyes and found herself gazing out over a plain from somewhere high up.
She grinned to herself. She was back.