Chapter Four: Of things gained
It didn't take them long to find the troll-hoard, but Gemma refused to go inside. The surrounding area smelled so awful that she was sure that she would pass out should she step inside the dank cave. Thorin and Gemma had yet to come to an agreement about the stone. She had put it in her duffel bag, Thorin giving her the stink-eye as she did so. He seemed to understand, that for now, the stone stayed with Gemma. No one could take it from her for long and Thorin quickly tired of Gemma's smug grin when the stone would find its way back into her hands every time she asked for it.
Currently, Gemma sat with Bilbo and four other dwarves, Ori, Dori, Oin, and Bombur. They'd introduced themselves, bowing—and in Ori's case blushing—offering her their service, as was their custom apparently. The rest of them went into the disgusting hole in search of treasure or whatever they hoped to find in that smelly place. Dwalin stood hovering inside the entrance, keeping one eye on Gemma, the other on the group submitting themselves to digging through the malodourous waste.
"So," said the small hobbit, primly sitting atop a boulder to her right, "if you're not from Middle Earth, where is your home?" At his question, the dwarves, most of them smoking from their pipes, focused on Gemma, waiting for her reply.
"Well, it is sort of difficult to explain. My world is also called Earth, but the, umm, territory in which I live is called Maine. It is a small state within the country called the United States of America. It is not like Middle Earth at all," she paused, "or at least it isn't anymore."
Bilbo seemed to contemplate her words. Ori took out a journal and was quickly scribbling away.
"United states? How many are there?" asked Dori.
"There are fifty," she told him and Dori's eyes widened. "Your country is very large then?"
Gemma nodded.
"Your king must be very powerful indeed to unite that many peoples," Dori said impressed and Gemma cringed, but didn't correct him. He stood up from his spot and then came to sit right next to Gemma. He pointed at her bag, "May I?" Gemma hesitated. After a moment, she pulled it off her shoulder and set it in his lap.
Dori held the bag close to his eyes. "You must have access to all sorts of trading markets. What sort of material is this?"
"Hmm, I think it is nylon, perhaps a thick cotton," she told him uncertainly.
"What is nylon? It is very sturdy, this."
"It's a type of plastic…and I bet you have no idea what that is either." Gemma sighed and took back her bag, unzipping the opening. She saw her flashlight on top and pulled it out to show him. The other dwarves had all scooted closer to look at her otherworldly items. Gemma held out the flashlight to Dori. "This is a flashlight. It's made out of plastic, a durable man-made material. I really have no idea how they make it though."
Dori held it as if it was incredibly fragile. Gemma chuckled at him, leaning over to push the button on the side. It was bright outside so it didn't have as much of an effect on them like she had hoped, but Bilbo was intrigued. Dori moved the light to the shadows on the ground between the grass and the rocks, their eyes following the path of the dim yellow spot. "It's like a small magic torch," Bilbo announced.
"Yes, precisely," agreed Gemma, happy that they did not ask her more about it. She was realizing how much she took for granted in her world. She had access to many wonderful things. They just worked or didn't; she never took the time to question why. She knew the basics of things like batteries and electricity, but trying to explain it to someone that basically lived in the dark ages seemed a daunting task. She promised herself that should any difficult questions come her way, she'd chalk it up to "magic" and hope for the best.
Dori handed the light back to her. She clicked it off, stuffing it back into her bag. Bilbo was interested in what else could be hiding in there, the Arkenstone, however, still played on his curiosity. "Will you tell us more about how you came to be here, Miss Gemma, about the stone?" Bilbo queried.
Before Gemma could say anything, Oin coughed. "A dwarf would know more about the Arkenstone than a human child, Master Baggins—,"
"While that is probably true, Bilbo did not ask about the Arkenstone. He asked me about the Ulunsuti," Gemma interrupted stubbornly. She refused to give up any small part of her world she had left by letting them give it a different name. Gemma did realize she was being childish, but didn't care at all. She had so little power in this world, she could not force herself to relinquish even a tiny bit of it. Oin simply took a long pull from his pipe, not continuing with his earlier statement.
Bilbo looked between Oin and Gemma, sensing the tension between the two. "Ahem," Bilbo awkwardly cleared his throat, "so the Allensitty is different from the Arkenstone, then?"
"Yes, but like Oin said, I'm no expert on the Arkenstone. My father told me the story about the U-lun-sut-i," she gave Bilbo a meaningful look, "many times." Gemma looked towards the troll-hoard, but Dwalin was still standing in the entrance so she guessed that the others were still rooting around in there. Ori saw his chance, "Will you tell us the story of your stone?" Bilbo and Bombur nodded eagerly, but Oin gave Ori a fierce glare when Ori said 'your stone'.
"Alright, but I'm not a very good storyteller," Gemma took a deep breath and crossed her legs, getting settled. "My father was Cherokee and therefore I am as well. The Cherokee are a native group that lived in the land long before the people who formed my country came to claim it. The story of the Ulunsuti comes from our people, for we're the ones who found it. It is said that the stone gave the Uhktena its powers—"
"Uhktena?" Bilbo asked.
"Oh, it's a dragon," she told Bilbo and the four dwarves. Gemma had forgotten for a moment who she was talking to. "So the Ulunsuti gave the dragon its powers, of which it had many. They could travel from my world to the underworld—which is umm, where the gods live—through caves They were able to see the past and the future, and would lure people to them with the light that shone from the stone. The Uhktena and the Tlanuhwa, which are giant hawks, hated each other and had fought since the beginning of the earth. One day, the Tlanuhwa started to swoop down from the sky, snatching children from a Cherokee village. This was strange because the Tlanuhwa had a peaceful relationship with the Cherokee; the two had always been allies against the conniving Uhktena. The men of the village went to the top of a mountain were the Tlanuhwa lived, waiting until the birds left their nest to look for their stolen children. When the Tlanuhwa left the mountain, the men invaded their nests and found their children, but the birds came back before they could escape. To distract them, the men threw down the Tlanuhwa's eggs into a cave where the Uhktena came up and swallowed the eggs whole! The Tlanuhwa then gave up the children to try to save their own young, diving towards the Uhktena. The giant birds defeated the Uhktena and flew off into the sun, severing their connection with the Cherokee and the earth forever. One Uhktena survived, however, and he was still angry from the battle. He attacked the men on the mountain and after a long clash of talons and spears, one man killed the Uhktena, the Ulunsuti falling out of the dragon's forehead. The Cherokee then cut him into four pieces and sent them to the four corners of the earth. The man who killed the dragon kept the stone in his family for generations because he believed the Ulunsuti was the balance between the light and the dark. Many people tried to use the stone for evil. It cursed them so it is kept hidden and safe underground, until, of course it decided to take me for a joy ride to Middle Earth."
Ori had written down everything he could of Gemma's tale, the scratch of his utensil on the parchment a comforting background noise for her tale. "Your world does not sound so different from ours," said Bombur very quietly. Gemma found herself agreeing. It was strange how much the two worlds had in common, with dragons, giant birds, and stones, but her father's stories were just that. Stories. Fiction. Or they had been until now.
"None of what my father told me is supposed to be true, but I'm finding the connection between what I thought was fiction and what I'm now seeing as fact very disconcerting. I miss expecting normal things and normal things happening. I am so far from what I know to be true," Gemma told them, rubbing the crease in her forehead as she frowned.
Bilbo patted her hand with empathy. I, too, am far from home, he thought, comforted by the shared misery between the two of them. His stomach gave a loud grumble and he flushed. They hadn't eaten anything since the stew last night, foregoing breakfast with the thought of possible treasure to be found. It was past noon already. Bilbo was still not used to eating only three times a day. Some days they only had two meals! It was torment for the poor hobbit and he thought if they must wait in this putrid place, they might as well eat something. "Are you hungry, Miss Gemma?"
Her stomach gave an answering gurgle. The dwarves chuckled, Oin getting up to start a fire. Gemma had not given much thought to food yet. Her appetite had not really been a problem after the vertigo and smell leftover from the trolls, but it had been an awfully long while since she'd eaten anything. However, she had a hunch her stomach would not readily agree with the available options. To her surprise, Dori did offer some tea that smelled fruity and tasted a little like bitter blackberries. It was much more familiar to her than the dried venison and hard bread they offered her next. She accepted both as kindly as she could, much taken aback by their generosity. They'd known her less than a day, but they had been friendly and courteous, despite the glares from Dwalin and Thorin.
While the six of them were munching quietly, except for Bombur who seemed to take to his snack with an unmatched ferocity, Gemma tried to focus on what she knew concerning The Hobbit. She was certain Gandalf was taking them to Rivendell. That happened next in the storyline and who else but the elves would know more about magic than Gandalf? Ok, so they'd go to Rivendell, meet some elves, figure out to send Gemma home then voila! she'd be back in the field behind her childhood home and she could forget this whole thing had ever happened. She would bury the stupid rock, go back to Maine, and take a nice long bath. She'd call up a friend and tell them about her crazy dream. She would go back to her job and see the cute guy that worked in the office across from hers, maybe she would even invite him out for drinks. If she could survive trolls, she definitely could ask someone out on a date. Yes. That was her plan; it sounded so nice, so easy, so simple.
The clink of metal on metal drew Gemma out of her daydream. Thorin marched towards her and the dwarves with the rest of the company following behind him. Gandalf now carried a sword and a small knife, headed in Bilbo's direction. She smiled, knowing the wizard would give the blade, later called 'Sting', to Bilbo to defend himself. The very stinky, now even dirtier, dwarves carried a few pieces of gleaming treasure and/or various weapons to show the ones that had remained outside of the cave. More meat and bread was passed around to everyone, including Bombur. Gandalf sat next to Gemma after he finished with Bilbo.
"I have a feeling that you know where we're headed," he said lowly, trying to not draw attention to the two of them.
Gemma nodded, "I do."
"Will we reach the Hidden Valley safely?"
"I—I'm not sure," she wavered, "I don't remember anything of significance happening between the trolls and Rivendell, but…"
Gandalf paused, as if sensing the air around them. "Do you feel as if something will deter our way?"
Gemma did have a strange feeling rattling around in her gut. She felt nervous suddenly when Gandalf questioned her about the short journey to see the elves, as if dark ominous butterflies were flying from her stomach to her heart in increasing velocity. She also felt wary of telling Gandalf how he felt. It was something about that knowing gaze that he gave her; it made her uneasy.
"You should trust your instincts, my dear," he stopped, trying to decide on something. He made up his mind and nodded once, "Pull out the Stone, Gemma Halvard."
His tone left no argument, but really Gemma did not want to argue with his demand anyways. She felt an itch start in her palm that slowly started to creep up her arm. Would Gandalf tell her something about the magic that she did not know? Would she get a clue as to how to go home? The itch turned into a burn, one that Gemma recognized. The burn continued up her arm into her shoulder then turned towards her heart. An almost frantic urge took over Gemma. She wanted nothing in the world more than she wanted to hold the stone. She needed to touch it. Everything in Gemma depended on that infernal rock and, even as she cursed it, she was drawing it out of her duffel. As always, when she grasped it, the stone glowed the blue purple she knew it would. Her heart felt full and it beat rapidly. The burn did not stop this time though. She needed something else, but she didn't know what.
"How do I stop it, Gandalf? I don't know what it needs," she whispered.
"I think it needs a release, perhaps a siphoning of power," he told her. She was still sitting on the rock with the rest of the group who had taken little notice of the change occurring beside them. The wind continued to blow softly around them and a few dwarves hummed some mountain song while others continued to eat. Gemma and Gandalf were the only ones who felt the air start to prickle slightly, or so the wizard hoped. Such hopes were destroyed by Bilbo who had yet to move very far from Gemma's side. He was very observant, but most had a tendency to forget that.
"All magic is different and the items containing such power even more so. The magic wants something, is asking for something from you. You must answer, in this you have no choice, but the answer you give it lies with you and you alone." The wizard instructed.
All Gemma could do was nod.
"What will you tell the stone?"
"How can I know that answer if I don't know the question?" she asked, frustrated with his endless riddles.
"Start with something that holds its own kind of magic in your heart. A phrase or memory that holds powerful emotion."
Gemma tried to think of a magical phrase and picked the first that popped into her head, "Abracadabra!" Nothing changed, not that Gemma really expected that to work. The stone still glowed and the burn still festered in her heart. Magic, magic, what phrase contains magic? What meant something to her? "We've all got both light and dark inside us," she started, "What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are." Gemma waited, but only felt the slightest twinge of relief in her fingertips. She glared at the stone.
"It must be more than that," Gandalf told her.
Gemma huffed, "You can't get more magical than Harry freaking Potter."
Gandalf furrowed his brow, "Miss Halvard, it must come from your soul. Tell the stone something from the very depths of your emotions."
"Ok, sappy, got it." Gemma thought about what made her emotional, her father's death certainly, but that felt too raw so she thought of her mother. Gemma closed her eyes, thinking of her mother's soft brown hair that matched Gemma's own perfectly. Gemma would twist it around her small fingers as her mother read to her. She could almost feel the cotton of her bedsheets beneath her, could almost smell her mother's perfume that lingered in the room after she left. Her mother had told her the most boring of bedtime stories, but Gemma adored the way the poetry would slide of her mother's tongue with the ease that came from reading it countless times. Pieces of The Poetic Edda, of its Voluspa, slid into Gemma's thoughts like a warm embrace. She thought of wizards and magic and of chance meetings as she parted her lips, saying, "Alone I sat, when the Old One sought me, The terror of gods, and gazed in mine eyes: 'What hast thou to ask? Why comest thou hither? Othin, I know, where thine eye is hidden.'"
The burning sensation fled Gemma's chest and she let out a whoosh of air, but her eyes quickly took on the same feeling. They burned and she was sure she would have screamed if she had not been bombarded with a string of violent images flashing through her head. They stopped almost as suddenly as they had come and Gemma fell forward off the rock she'd been sitting on. Tears of pain filled her eyes, but as she laid in the muddy grass, glowing stone still in her palm, the pain receded in a matter of moments.
She sat up slowly, the surrounding group of men too stunned to help her. She had just gasped and then seemingly feinted before they could do anything about it. "Women," Dwalin muttered.
"What the actual fuck," Gemma moaned. "That was seriously unpleasant."
"Are you alright, Miss Gemma?" asked Ori so politely.
"No, not at all," she rubbed her eyes roughly. "We need to leave soon, very soon."
Gandalf asked her quickly, "What did the stone tell you? Did you see something?"
Gemma got to her feet slowly, muttering about wizards and their assumptions. "We're in danger here. Some weird wolf thing is coming." She pointed towards the trees behind Kili and Fili on the other side of the circle the dwarves positioned themselves in, "One through there," She turned towards where Thorin and Dwalin were watching her and pointed behind the pair, "Another from there. They're big, huge, gross." She tried to emphasize with her arms their massive size, "I've never seen anything like it before."
All of the dwarves had risen to their feet, uneasy at the mention of possible danger. "How do you know this?" Thorin asked her roughly.
"How did I enter this fucked up fairy tale?" Gemma held up the still glowing stone, her purple eyes staring at him as if mocking his stupid question. "The stone apparently wanted to let me know shits about to go down."
"How can we be sure she's telling the truth?" Nori asked the dwarves around him.
"For the sake of all that's good and chocolate! Why would I lie?! Some random dude is about to pop out of the bushes with his bunnies, then some slimy Rottweiler's are going to try to eat you. I say we skip all that junk and run!"
The dwarves slowly started to pack up their food and new-found troll-treasure, just in case her loud warnings weren't just the ramblings of a madwoman. Gemma let out an agitated moan, "Ya'll are about to be puppy chow if you don't hurry up! Someone point me in the direction of Rivendell if you don't believe me. I'm not stupid enough to stay here."
Bilbo, all ready to go, perked up at the thought of elves, but before the dwarves could so much as spit at the same thought, a rumbling sound came from the east and they quickly drew their weapons. Gemma pushed past the armed dwarves to where she knew the weirdo would come out of the woodworks.
"Something's coming!" Thorin shouted.
Yea, no shit, Sherlock, Gemma thought angrily.
A sled pulled by large rabbits bursts from the bushes, just as Gemma knew it would, and a tall man with a demented look in his eye shouted "Thieves! Fire! Murder!"
"Radagast!" Gandalf said sounding relieved, much to Gemma's annoyance and growing fear. The dwarves relaxed at Gandalf's ease.
"Yes, Radagast the brown! We need to go, Gandalf!" Gemma told him urgently. The new comer, one Radagast the brown, tilted his head and blinked at her. He looked at the glowing gem in her hand and he let out a quiet, "Ooo," and whispered, "That's interesting."
Gemma tucked the stone into the bottom of her bag, hiding it underneath its contents, but forgetting to zip it closed. Just what she needed, another nosy wizard.
"Look," Gemma pointed at the wizard, his hair standing every which way, "The thought you're about to swallow is actually a bug. Spit it out."
The man opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. Bilbo turned green and the dwarves all stepped back a few paces in revulsion. On the wizards tongue lay a green stick insect and he took it out of his mouth, setting it gently on a leaf attached to a nearby tree. At least this one listens well, she thought acridly. His hair was very Einstein-esque, but that might have only been from the frantic bunny sleigh ride. The rest of him was well-kempt enough; he wore a simple brown robe, similar to Gandalf's grey one, and carried a long wooden staff.
"Gandalf, he's about to tell you about the spiders, spawn of Ungoliant from Dol Guldur taking over the Greenwood. And no, that place is not abandoned. Some Necromancer dude is there. He's bad news bears. Now give the poor man some weed, he's distraught," she commanded with confidence. She was surprised when the grey wizard actually followed her directions. The insane look in Radagast's eyes left him as he took a pull from Gandalf's pipe.
"Now," said Gandalf, "A Necromancer. Are you sure?"
Radagast nodded quickly, picking up where Gemma left off, "Quite sure." He handed Gandalf a long object wrapped in boiled leather, "This is not from the land of the living." Gandalf looked at Gemma as if asking for confirmation. "He's right," she told him.
Suddenly, they all heard a loud howl and Gemma shuddered.
"Is that the wolf thing you were talking about," Bilbo asked Gemma nervously.
"Wolf," the dwarf in the funny hat answered for her, "No, that is not a wolf."
"There!" Gemma shouted and pointed at the group of trees where a massive dog-shaped beast emerged, almost pouncing on Kili. Thorin ran at it and struck it down with his new blade.
Gemma didn't have time to warn them as another drooling beast jumped out from the other side and Kili shot it with his bow before it took a bite out of Thorin. Dwalin grabbed a massive axe from the white-bearded dwarf's hands and swung it into the furry thing's neck, cutting off its head.
"Warg-scouts!" Thorin shouted.
"Orc pack!" Squeaked Gemma, who was now trembling. She wanted to bolt, but which way?! Why weren't they running away yet?!
"Orc pack?!" Bilbo squeaked, mimicking Gemma.
"We're being hunted!" She tried to tell them all.
For once, Dwalin seemed to trust her words, "We need to get out of here!"
"The ponies have bolted!" Ori informed them anxiously.
"Radagast will draw them away!" yelled Gemma and the brown wizard hopped onto his sleigh, not even questioning Gemma's keen knowledge of all his future actions.
Gandalf protested, "Those are Gundabad Wargs; they will outrun you."
"These are Rhosgobel Rabbits: I'd like to see them try," Radagast replied with a smirk. He snapped the reins and he and his rabbits were off in a flash.
"Ugh, finally! We needed to have been gone like yesterday!"
And though everyone heeded Gemma's words instantly, she was too terrified of being eaten or killed by orcs, to appreciate gaining the dwarves' hard-earned trust.
A/N: I have finals on Monday that I should be studying for instead of writing this, so I'm blaming Tolkien if I fail. I seriously butchered the legend of the Uhktena and the Tlanuhwa so you should google it and read the real thing if that's something that interests you. This chapter has only been read and edited by myself before submitting so I apologize for any and all mistakes.
To lostfeather1, I was totally channeling Dumbledore when I wrote that! It makes me deliriously happy that you drew that connection. I think they are extremely manipulative, but I have more tolerance for Gandalf. He doesn't use children for his dirty work and I think, for the most part, he's more opportunistic than manipulative. Like, the dwarves would have probably still gone to Erebor (the portents!) even if Gandalf hadn't supported them so if he happens to stop Sauron from taking the mountain as a seat of power all the better, right? But yes, here he is manipulating Gemma a tad, although he truly doesn't know how to make the stone take Gemma home. I am SO glad you like the story so far, you and Gemma are in for a wild ride ;) Feel free to throw rants my way anytime. We can bond over our mutual frustration for manipulative old wizards that we love/hate.
To evilspoofauthor1Sven, thank you for understanding my humor. I am constantly cracking myself up, but then I read it to my friends and they don't think it's that great and I'm just like, you guys, I'm hilarious. What don't you understand? I'm very humbled that you said it put you in a better mood. You have no idea how happy that makes me.
To the two anonymous reviewers, X Blue Eyed Demon, and Porpisha, thank you so much, SO INSANELY MUCH, for taking the time to review. It means the world to me. And an extra special thanks to Laura en eryn for being the first to review! I'm sorry that I did not say anything last chapter, I will be better at showing my appreciation.
To everyone who follow or favorited or both (EEK!), thank you thank you. You are all beautiful cherry pies that deserve every happiness in the world.