AN: Writer's block sucks. Thanks to everyone who messaged me and stuck around. Hope you all are doing well!

So seeing as we're getting into the actual Hobbit timeline, I'm concerned that it'll get a bit boring despite it being from Em's POV. I'm trying to go easy on repeating the dialogue from the films and painfully re-describing scenes that we already know by heart, so bear with me and let me know if it reads okay. But don't worry, we're not on a clockwork schedule—I've a few surprises in store. ;]

Anon replies :]

Punky Warhammer: Glad you're liking Bilbo in this! Yeah, it's really interesting! As I'm world building for my novel, toilet alternatives were one of the first things I developed—because chamber pots are boring and gross. Oh, that's really cool! (pun intended) I'll def have to look into that—I've got a thing for the 40's lol. And on your second review last chapter—thanks for checking in! I was actually writing this chapter, trying to find inspiration and I got your notification! What timing! :]

Jo: Thank you! I always get hyped up whenever someone says they like Em or thinks she's cute! She'd totally be blushing if she heard that haha

Chapter XXII

The Ward of the Wizard

This is one of those times where I wish I'd done something less cringe-worthy and stupid but it wasn't. Not even close. And so I shouldn't pretend like I was a social butterfly, flitting around chatting up people, singing songs, and making small talk because I didn't. At all. I didn't even try. Instead, I… oh, hell. I stayed exactly where I'd been for the past forty minutes, sitting on the edge of Bilbo's tub, hiding in the bathroom. Like the whole fucking time.

It was pathetic.

Beyond pathetic!

At first it had been awkwardly quiet, with only a murmur or so between Bilbo and Dwalin, and then the bell chimed as Balin arrived and the brothers added a constant drone of conversation in the hole which assured me that they weren't going away any time soon.

Several times, Bilbo had knocked on the door to ask if I was alright and if I knew anything about Dwarves stopping by to which I both replied, "Uhh, I dunno. Be out soon." But 'soon' was over a half hour later.

By the high level of volume, and the amount of knocks, chimes, and new voices, I'd assumed mostly everyone had arrived. I groaned, planting my face in my palms, realizing that I had to come out eventually and face the music.

"Maybe it won't be that bad," I said aloud, testing my voice beforehand. "Maybe they'll have had a few drinks in them and be more welcoming…? Or they won't notice me if I sit in a corner..."

There was a burst of laughter outside, followed by some playful banging on a table, clangs of mugs and a high strangled noise that was probably from Bilbo. My lips twisted to the side. I should at least be out there for him. I'd imagine he needs someone other than Gandalf to rant to.

I perked up at the thought. Gandalf was probably here. Had that been his voice I'd heard earlier?

Dwalin had been too intimidating to have a one on one with, and Balin, I assumed, would be too inquisitive for my liking. But with Gandalf here too, it'd be okay. I could hide behind him, if all else failed. Right? I licked my lips, gathering my courage. If he were here, I'd be alright. No one would bother me too much if I stuck to the Wizard like glue.

My fingers played with Thrain's braid nervously.

I can do this.

"I can," I stated, trying to trick myself into confidence. "I will."

Alright.

"Alright."

It was only after the chatter dulled and Bilbo's visitors had moved to another area that I made my move and ventured out of the bathroom. The hall was empty but I could hear footsteps and voices nearby. I think the majority of the Dwarves were in the dining room. I didn't move, trying to prolong the moment of inescapable questions.

I inched closer to the noise, wanting to stay separate but not make it obvious that I was avoiding everyone. Crossing the entrance hall, I had to fight my instincts to bolt out the door. I groaned. C'mon, Em, you got this. It's not going to be bad.

I wasn't too keen on seeking Gandalf out right away. He'd clearly be the most stand-outish of the group and I'd be noticed that much sooner. For a bit, I'd foolishly hoped that I could blend into the crowd. Me, the blue-haired human girl blending in with the group of Dwarves who were all at least a foot shorter than me. What a plan.

Maybe I could just pick a spot in the parlor and sit there…? I peered around the archway to find it already occupied and quickly backed out. Urg. So much for that.

I think I'd gone a good half minute of being out of the bathroom before I was spotted. And, of course, it was by the sharp-eyed archer at the end of the hall.

"Miss Emily?!" Kili cried when he saw me, looking quite alarmed.

Damn. I knew I was too close to the kitchen! I tensed at being found but tried to look not so freaked. I'm not hiding anything. I'm totally innocent. "Yo," I said with a wave, forcing a smile.

Fili, who'd been laughing beside him, whipped around to see me, and I noticed with a certain sadness that the smile quickly died on his lips. Maybe I should've stayed in the bathroom…

The brunet, now over the shock of seeing me, took my gaze from his brother as he spoke, thankfully. "I did not know you would be here! We thought our farewell had been the last," he said, rushing over, Fili following slowly.

I chuckled nervously. I couldn't help but notice that neither seemed excited to see me- surprised, yes, but not pleasantly.

Fili's stare was unnerving. I tried not looking directly at him for fear of letting him see the guilt in my eyes. Although, I considered us friends, and was glad to see him, I had a feeling that he ultimately saw me as a threat to the Quest. And he didn't even know the half of it. I sort of am a threat, I guess, an unwelcomed burden. Or will be. This wasn't all fun and games anymore. This was business.

"Heh. Can't get rid of me that easily," I said after a beat.

"It seems not," Fili replied carefully. "I suppose you'll be joining us for supper, then?"

"Yeah," I said awkwardly. And a bit more after supper too.

"And here I thought our first parting was uncomfortable enough," Kili frowned. "I did not expect to have to repeat it."

I smiled nervously. Good thing, you won't have to… I cleared my throat.

Okay. Fili looked too damn alert for my liking, probably picking up on the fact that I hadn't confirmed parting again. And that I wouldn't look at him for more than a second. Can you stop being so Ravenclaw right now, Fili! Uh, distraction!

"So, uh… Were those cumulonimbus clouds I saw earlier…? Should've brought a rain coat, am I right?" I laughed, about to delve into the weather, regardless of their obvious confusion, but was oh so thankfully interrupted by a behatted Dwarf.

"Miss Emily!" Bofur called, waltzing right through the princes—Kili gave him an offended look. "Or was it "Miss Justemily?" He winked and I broke into a smile. "Wonderful to see you again! Trust you've grabbed something to eat?"

"Um. Er, no, not really?"

"Oh! Well, you must, before my brother eats it all, that is. Come! Sit with us, won't you?"

"I… sure," I nodded, giving a smile to the Durin brothers who, I noticed, immediately started talking in hushed tones.

Brilliant. They know something's up. I don't need everyone knowing that I'm tagging along before Thorin does. Oh, god, don't think of him.

"See we've taken your advice!" Bofur said, leading me to the table, his hand on my back. "Now, I wasn't so sure about all of this adventuring business—no point in aimless wandering, right? Done enough of that already, to be truthful. But then, we hear word of a quest, and not just any—the quest to end all quests! Well, unless you count the quest after this—the one to get ourselves a permanent residence with our spoils of said quest." He paused to laugh. "Quite nice here, it is, in the Shire. Who'd know a Dwarf to enjoy the open air? Would almost consider settling, if they'd have us. Never thought open fields were something to look at, but I am quite enjoying the flowers. Oh, look—there's Bombur! Haven't met him yet, have you? He didn't believe you were real at first—what with your description, that is."

I smiled. Bofur was undeniably long-winded at times, but his cheerful rambling put me at ease. I was glad that I wasn't expected to respond much; I could just listen and finally breathe. God knows I won't be able to later when the questions start flying.

Bombur was seated at the end of the dining table, already working on a plethora of food.

"Brother! Look who I've found here of all places!" Bofur let me sit at the end, and took a seat beside me.

"Hi, I'm Emily," I said with a crooked smile, watching Bombur's small eyes widen as he looked me up and down.

"By my beard," the ginger exclaimed, leaping to his feet to greet me properly. His stomach bumped the table, causing all of the platters to slide down an inch or so. "Bombur, son of Brimur, at your service!"

I grinned, now that I wasn't afraid of him not liking me. "Nice to meet you."

"Have you seen Bifur?" Bofur asked his brother. "He'd want to see Miss Emily for sure."

Bombur's mouth was already full. Instead of a verbal answer and risking lose an ounce of food, he simply pointed towards the pantry across the atrium.

"Excuse me," said Bofur to me, then to himself, "Now what has he gotten into?"

I smiled, watching him scurry off.

"They've said much about you, Miss Emily." Bombur's gentle voice gained my attention. "More than I thought true at first."

"Hopefully only good stuff," I laughed.

"Of course! Not an ill word to your name!"

"I was just joking… And it's—you can call me Emily."

Bombur hummed, his mouth full again. The silence wasn't really awkward as he chewed but I could feel eyes from the other end of the table and I just wanted to look like I belonged so I tried to keep the conversation going.

"So!"

Bombur raised his brows.

"Uh… how's Bifur been since you've left Ered Luin?"

His hands rested on the table, giving me his full attention rather than the hunk of cheese he'd been reaching for. "Bifur has taken very well to our travels."

"Really?"

He nodded, "He's much calmer… and seems almost at peace and content to stay still…"

"That's great! I'm totally happy that it's working for him! And you guys as well?"

Bombur made a disgruntled noise. "I won't complain much if it's helping my family… but all this walking."

I grinned, "I hear ya, but you guys are getting ponies so, that'll be a relief, right?"

The ginger looked surprised. "Ponies? Where did you hear that?"

There was a swish of clothing and a wooden staff came to stand at my side. I tilted my head back to look up at the Wizard behind me, and he gazed down with a knowing smile. "Ah, here you are, Emily. Good. I was beginning to worry."

I grinned at him, "That I got into trouble?"

"That you were causing it."

I continued to grin. "Nope! Not me!"

"Khagholel!"

My eyes whipped to the entrance to see Bifur, arms spread in excitement.

"Bifur!" I cried, jumping up as he bounded over.

Gandalf stepped back, chucking softly, to let him wrap me in a hug. Then, to my surprise, he lifted me up over his head in a Lion King kind of way and swung me in a circle.

"Oh, what are you doing?!"

"Bifur, put her down!"

Bofur and Bombur spoke at once, coming to my aid but I was laughing when their cousin set me on my feet, and I waved away their apologies. "It's cool. No harm done. He just surprised me, is all."

"If you're sure," Bofur said, looking relieved.

"I am."

"Khaz meliku suz yenetu," said Bifur fondly. "Gamut sanu yenet!"

I smiled at him despite being clueless, and looked to Bofur for a translation. "Er, what did he…?"

"Oh, he says he's glad your path crossed ours again."

"Me too," I told them. "Who'd have known?" I laughed, playing it off like I hadn't known.

My gaze locked with Bilbo's from across the room, and my laugh died in my throat. I saw concern, confusion, and finally, disbelief cross his features as his eyes flickered between me and the Dwarves.

Crap.

He made a b-line for me, skillfully dodging Dori chasing Ori with a napkin. I tried to hold my own when he stopped in front of me, looking more intimidating than I thought a Hobbit could appear. Or maybe it was just the smidgen of mistrust in his eyes that brought my tail between my legs. I tried to smile but he wasn't having it, frantically motioning between me and the Dwarves.

"Emily. Can I have a word?" he asked briskly, all but tapping his foot.

"Uh, sure."

Bilbo paused. "Alone."

My smile cracked. "Right! Okay," turning towards the trio. "Uh, excuse us. We'll have to talk later?"

"We'll be sure of it, lass!"

"Tak xenu!"

"Mmfmpph!" (Bombur's mouth was full)

Bilbo led me into a deserted hell, my stomach flipping. I held my breath, preparing for the worst… I thought about running but figured I, at least, owed him the truth after he'd been so nice to me. I mentally groaned. Why does everything have to go awkward with me…?

"Emily… " His tone was that of a teacher, trying to remain professional and not curse out a student. "You—you know these-? Are these the friends you were waiting for?" Bilbo stammered, looking at me with wide eyes.

"Th-they might be… Uh, well, I don't know them all…"

He gaped at me, "Did you tell them to come here?"

"I—no, well. I didn't arrange anything! It was all Gandalf's—"

"You knew about the Wizard?"

"Uh…Umm. Alright, yes!" I cried, ducking my head.

"You knew about the Wizard?!"

"I'm sorry! I should have told you, but Gandalf said I wasn't allowed to say anything and—"

He scoffed. "A little warning would have been nice!" he said, his voice going high. "At the very least, I could have hidden my—" Bilbo stopped suddenly. "Was… was this your plan all along, then?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "Did you honestly get those children to—"

"No! Please! I swear that was a total freak coincidence!" I tried to explain, waving my hands, looking a bit mad probably. "Gandalf actually told me to leave you alone entirely! But when you invited me back, I, well, I couldn't say 'no'. I wanted to hang out and get to know you. And… well, that's ruined now, isn't it?" I double face palmed and groaned. "I'm really, really sorry, Bilbo! I wanted to tell you! Really! But I—" I could feel my face going red and I hoped he was too bothered to notice. I sighed, "I just wanted you to like me…"

"Well, I…" Bilbo choked on his words for a moment, and I dared to glance at him through my lashes. His expression was a mix of flustered and surprised. A teensy little Slytherin part of me said that if I could manage a convincing cry, he'd probably forgive me straight away, but my concern at not breaking down in front of people kept the floodgates well sealed. I wasn't going to pull any more wool over his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said again, crossing my arms, dejectedly.

He sighed, defeated, shoulders sagging. "I'm not- I'm not angry with you, Emily."

"You're not…?"

"No."

"It's okay if you are. I'd probably be steamed at me too…"

He shook his head, catching sight of Bifur turning over a small table to examine the legs, then pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's not you, it's just—" he gestured around, "this. You, I don't mind. You were a pleasure. But them? And a Wizard's involved?" Bilbo seemed downright exasperated. "Do you know why they're here?"

"Erm." His pleading undertone got me, and I twisted my lips. "There's going to be a quest…"

Bilbo was taken aback. "A—a quest? What has that to do with me?"

Oh my. "Gandalf… just thought it'd be a good idea to meet here…"

He furrowed his brow. "But… I still don't understand. Why here? Of all places, why Bag End? Couldn't they go pillage another-"

"Ex-excuse me," cut in a timid looking Ori. "I'm sorry to interrupt," he continued, looking meekly at the Hobbit. "But what should I do with my plate?"

Bilbo floundered for a moment, perhaps surprised that one of the Dwarves was capable of acting civil, when someone came up behind me.

"Give it here, Ori," said Fili, taking the dish from him. "I'll take of it for you."

Oh my god.

How long had he been behind me...?

Oh my god!

Did he hear me blab about the quest!?

"Kili!" the prince shouted, earning his brother's attention, just as he tossed the plate to him.

The archer caught it expertly and frisbee'd it to someone else and then suddenly, it was a game. And then Bilbo blew a fuse, totally forgetting about me.

"Excuse me!" he shouted, raising his voice over the noise in the next room. "THAT'S MY MOTHER'S WEST FARTHING POTTERY! IT'S OVER ONE HUNDRED YEARS OLD!"

"I'm sure they'll be careful!" I said loudly back to him, but the Hobbit didn't seem to hear me. He chased the flow of the plates into the kitchen, hoping to put an end to the foolery. "Can—can you not do that! You'll blunt them!"

And as I expected, the banging and clanging of dishes and silverware soon turned rhythmic and the steady juggling of Bilbo's mother's pottery increased, as did his frantic yelling. Then began the singing.

I wanted to laugh along with the Dwarves but I couldn't help but feel bad for Bilbo. The few glimpses I caught of him, he was manic. I only followed up to the second verse before I didn't bother keeping up with their lyrics. Actually, despite its cheery tune, I found myself growing agitated and retreated to a wall, hoping to remove myself from the action.

I tried wearing an expression that made me look incapable of catching a football, let alone something breakable, but that didn't stop a few of them from tossing a dish to me from time to time. It was damn terrifying. At least I had the common sense to move near Kili, who could catch everything I missed—which was everything save for one saucer. He seemed more than pleased to show off his reflexes though, so I wasn't too embarrassed by my lack of ability.

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

The big finish was followed by cheering and playfully elbowing each other. Bilbo looked ready to murder someone until he realized that his dishes were unharmed and stacked. Even then he probably could've drop-kicked someone in fury. I saw even Gandalf chuckling at his distress and shot him a glare. Bilbo didn't need this kind of a scare, or such a negative introduction to—

Thud. Thud. Thud.

I froze, fighting the chill that ran down my spine.

The Wizard was the first to speak, "He's here."

Gandalf hurried ahead to intercept the Dwarf-king, Bilbo hot on his heels, seemingly trying to balance playing host and monitoring who and what was coming into his home. I held back while the Dwarves crowded the entrance hall to meet their leader, some of them were probably seeing him in person for the first time.

I; however, didn't have the courage to meet Thorin at the door.

In fact, I was considering not meeting him again at all.

It was odd… Ever since he had left the Blue Mountains, I had looked forward to seeing him again. I had missed him, to be perfectly honest. But now, I couldn't bring myself to even look at him. Or… maybe it was the other way around, that I just didn't want to see how he'd look at me. It wouldn't be a look of relief, or happiness, or even pleasant surprise. When Thorin saw me, he'd be upset. Or worse. And call me a coward, but I didn't want to face that. I didn't want to see disappointment or annoyance or anger in his eyes when he finally saw me.

In those few moments as introductions were given in the hall, I seriously had doubts about sticking around. And I knew no matter how long I hid in the bathroom, it wouldn't do any good or make this any less painful or awkward. It sounds ridiculous to say, stupid really, that I considered running away in order to avoid having to see Thorin. I could have easily snuck out a window, but the fact that I literally had nowhere to go after that prevented my frantic escape.

It was almost like this one time in my freshman year of high school where I had to do this oral report and I mixed up the due dates with another project so when my day to present came, I wasn't ready and I was so freaked out that I skipped the class and all of the rest because I thought the teacher would track me down, so I ended up hiding in a janitor's closest, crying until the last bell, then I ran home without my coat or schoolbag, and this seemed so much worse in retrospect and I don't even know why. It wasn't like Thorin was a strict ass teacher, able to threaten me with calling my parents or detentions or bad grades or demerits or the kind of kinky punishments that Jen likes to read in her mangas. Okay, I admit, the mental image of Thorin in a tight suit with a low ponytail, glasses and a naughty look in his eyes whilst saying, "It seems you're failing my class, Miss Parker", did make me smile for a brief second, but then I nearly puked out of nervousness.

This was really bad. Like really, really bad. I was actually shaking and hyperventilating to the point where I felt light-headed.

And suddenly, I realized what was happening. I was having a panic attack. Like a real proper one. Shit.

Even in the moment, I knew I was overreacting and blowing this way out of proportion, but it couldn't be helped. Breathe, Emily! Okay. Okay. In cases like this, I found it best to cope quickly by figuring out the worst possible scenario and downplaying it. So, what is it? Thorin saying I couldn't come along. Okay? No. Er. Thorin saying that I couldn't come along and he hated me. And I was ugly. And to that, I'd probably just cry or something. I've cried before. That's fine. It'll be fine, Ems. Just breathe.

I had half calmed down, or at least tricked myself into thinking I was calm, when my fears came flooding back as the others' voices grew louder as they approached. Oh, thank god, Thorin didn't walk in first, giving me time to sit down and attempt to blend in. Of course, it's hard to blend in when I looked ready to puke and was subtly shaking and breathing heavily as if I'd ran a few laps around the Hobbit hole before slamming into the first seat I saw—which was near the front of the table where I'd forgotten Thorin would sit. Damn it, Emily! Too late to move now.

Maybe if I looked as badly as I felt, he might be more concerned than anything. Or if I puked I could excuse myself. Or if I passed out, that would sort of be like excusing myself. Yeah, passing out would make this easier.

I kept my head down as everyone took their seats—Dwalin sat on my left, who took up all the elbow room, and Gandalf was on my right, who placed a hand on my shoulder for a moment. I tried to shrink back, hiding behind the Wizard's frame. Out of my periph, I saw Thorin's dark figure near his seat and against all of my craven instincts, I glanced at him. I had to.

If Thorin was upset at my being here, he didn't show it. When he finally spotted me, he froze, for only a millisecond, his eyes unreadable. I smiled, trying to look a little sheepish as if this totally wasn't my doing, then he slowly turned away from me to speak to Balin without so much as an acknowledgment.

My stomach felt cold.

Um. I thought Thorin would be angry and completely fume against my going, or my even being there. Of course, I didn't want that. I didn't want to fight with him or be pegged as a burden, like Bilbo would be, come tomorrow. But I didn't want this… whatever this was.

It wasn't indifference. It wasn't a silent acceptance either—oooh no, no! It was more of a passive aggressive method of protest that I didn't think Thorin capable of. In fact, his sitting there, going about business as if my coming weren't even a topic of conversation really bothered me. A lot.

"What will the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin's hopeful voice beside me made me jump. "Is Dain with us?"

There was a pregnant pause before Thorin all but sighed, "They will not come."

Murmurs all around, none too happy. I pursed my lips, still focusing on the table as Thorin continued, "They say this quest is ours… and ours alone."

"Right," Bilbo said quietly behind me, (Good lord! I hadn't noticed him sneak up!). "So, about this quest…?"

Gandalf half turned to him, "Bilbo! My dear fellow, let us have a little more light." He pulled the map from his sleeve and unfolded it, smoothing the parchment on the table. "Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, near woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak," he said for the sake of the company.

The glow of Bilbo's candle cast an orange light on my hands as he leaned closer to the map. "The Lonely Mountain," he read. Ah, his interest in maps was coming into play, I could tell from his voice. Funny, he'd said 'Massachusetts' with the same amount of wonder.

The company came to life with both excitement and suspicion, more so the latter when Oin began counting off the omens and signs that told him that the time to take back the mountain was upon us. I couldn't blame them. This was a suicide mission.

With a snap of his fingers, Gandalf lit his pipe, the flame hovering over his fingertips a moment too long and he hissed in pain. I smirked at him and he looked a bit irked that I'd caught him being clumsy with his magic. I nearly grinned then.

Bilbo's voice broke my thoughts. "What beast…?"

"Oh, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age," Bofur spoke up, managing to sound both ominous and nonchalant. "Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals—"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is," Bilbo replied with a smile that added 'you wanker' to the end.

Ori shot up from his seat, his chair scraping the floor. "I'm not afraid! I'm up for it!" he boasted, trying to sound brave. "I'll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron right up his—"

"Oh. Sit down!" cried Dori, yanking his brother back into place. I could see Nori shaking his head.

"The task will be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen," Balin chimed in, giving the group a disdainful glance. "And not thirteen of the best… nor brightest." He gave Thorin a pointed look, perhaps trying to make him see the futility of the mission.

Thorin didn't react outright, his thoughts churning away. He knew the odds, how slim they were, but I couldn't see defeat in him.

There was a bang as Fili hit the table. "We may be few in number," he started, in his great leader speech voice. Damn, it was effective. "But we're fighters. Every one of us. Down to the last Dwarf!"

Murmurs of agreement.

"Aye!"

"Aye."

"Here, here!"

"He is right."

"And do you forget, we have a Wizard in our company!" added Kili cheerily, not wanting his brother to hog the spotlight. "I'm sure Master Gandalf would have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!"

Everyone's heads swiveled to look at said Wizard for confirmation but he was already trying to back out of the statement. "Well, now, I—I wouldn't say hundreds—"

"Well, how many then?" demanded Dori.

"Er, what?"

"How many dragons have you killed?" pressed Dori—by Mahal, he didn't sign his little brother up for this BS.

My eyes flickered over their faces, the tension in the room rising. I wrung my hands under the table.

"Well? Go on, then. How many?"

Gandalf didn't answer.

"I've seen a dragon taken down!" I blurted out before I could think twice. "With only a broom and a bit of maneuvering! I-it was a big nasty one too—a Hungarian Horntail."

"A broom?!"

I… may have made things worse.

Chaos broke out immediately, people jumping from their seats and shouting. I tried to shrink back into my chair. I could barely make out what they were saying but I heard a very irate Dori shouting, "It'd set the broom on fire! It's a dragon, not a kitchen mouse!"

I face palmed, raising my head only when the chatter went on. My eyes found Thorin, sitting very still, watching the company bicker. His eyes flickered to me briefly and my stomach did a flip. He wasn't going to sit through this anymore, he decided, rising and shouting at them in Khuzdul. There was immediate silence.

And then I felt my heart pounding again. I kept my eyes on the table, listening to the drone of Thorin's voice, trying to calm myself. How long had my heart been beating that fast? Had I not noticed it over the fighting…? Surely, a two second glance from the Dwarf-king couldn't have—

"How came you by this?"

I looked up sharply.

Déjà' vu.

"It was given to me by your father, for safekeeping," Gandalf told Thorin, handing him the key to Erebor. An image flashed before my eyes. The Grey Wizard leaning over the broken body of Thrain. He was dying. I couldn't do anything. "It is yours now."

Thorin studied the key in his hands with the utmost awe. It was the last piece of Thrain left in the world. I bit my lip at the thought.

I zoned out as Gandalf explained the general plan and the secret aspects of the map, my mind trying to drag me back to Dol Guldur. Fortunately, the turn of conversation drew me back to reality, but my relief was short lived once I realized what the subject had become about. Me.

Gloin loudly cleared his throat. "This is all well and good," he began, "But should we be discussing our business in front of… mixed company?" He coughed meaningfully, shooting me a look.

Oh, is it that time already?

Gandalf leaned forward. "I am sure I do not know what you mean," he said stubbornly.

Dwalin sighed. "He means the lass," he said quietly. I went a bit red. "She shouldn't be here to begin with."

"And you are to decide whom has business where?" Gandalf asked.

At this, Dwalin leered, over my head, at Gandalf. I sunk lower in my seat. "It is obvious to me that she has no place here. Even the most thick-skulled could see that."

Gandalf looked around the table, "And am I to assume you all are of the same opinion?"

A few Dwarves nodded or made sounds of agreement, none more enthusiastically than Gloin—I swear, he still had it out for me since that Silver Deep incident.

"Is that so?" the Wizard asked, raising his brows. His tone was much lighter, casual even, which surprised me. "Well, if that is the case, then I, too, have no place amongst you. Good evening!"

There were a few cries of dismay, the majority looking very uneasy at the prospect of their ace in the hole walking off. Thorin, in particular, was doing a good job of hiding his alarm, but not his concern at the others' reactions. Good god, even if they all dropped out, I think he'd have taken on the entire quest single handedly if he had to.

"Gandalf," Thorin drawled, giving him a you-can't-be-serious look.

"Emily, fetch your things, we'd best be off," Gandalf said, rising from his seat. "Best of luck to you all. Bilbo, thank you for your hospitality."

Thorin scowled. "You cannot possibly expect Miss Parker to join us. I was under the impression that you were of the same mind."

Oh, yeah. Gandalf basically told Thorin he was ditching me. Oops…

The Wizard raised his brows innocently. "I most definitely am not, nor have I ever been. Miss Parker is my ward and responsibility. And I shan't be parted from her for such an extended period of time that this quest entails. Get up, Emily."

I stood but didn't move from the table. Okay, I was getting nervous. I had a feeling that Gandalf was just messing with them, playing dirty, getting Thorin to concede without a real fight but I felt terribly awkward that it was about me. My hands balled up the front of my skirt, as I looked between the Wizard and the King. Gandalf remained calm and aloof while Thorin looked just plain miffed. Neither was budging.

"You know as well as I that there are dangers in undertaking this quest," Thorin said evenly. "To bring Miss Parker would be to needlessly expose her to them."

"Has she not already faced these dangers you speak of?" Gandalf asked, slowly taking his seat again. "On your journey from Ered Luin, were you not intercepted?"

Thorin's brows knitted in annoyance.

Oh, shit. He was ambushed too! I immediately scanned over Thorin, searching for signs of injury. I couldn't see any damage to him or his clothing, but that didn't mean there wasn't any.

"What's this, Thorin?" Dwalin gasped. "You were attacked?"

"Uncle, is this true?" Kili asked, Fili staring intently at the King, trying to read him.

Rather reluctantly, Thorin nodded, and the company broke into hushed words with apprehensive faces.

Balin gave him a stern look. "And you didn't think to tell us?"

"It wasn't the right time, Balin…" Thorin murmured. He turned to Gandalf, his gaze questioning, the slightest bit of suspicion in his eyes. "How do you know this…?"

"We too were attacked on our travels whilst still in the ranges of the Blue Mountains," the Wizard answered, "By wolves, no less. I'd likely wager the very same that neared our camp the night before we reached your Kingdom."

"This is no coincidence," Thorin spat, "Our movements are being tracked."

Gandalf nodded solemnly, "It is not the wolves that worry me."

Thorin looked away for a moment then to the map laid out on the table. "And yet your worry does not extend to your own ward's safety?" he all but growled, shifting his eyes to Gandalf.

"The only place I might ensure her safety is by my side. And that is precisely the reason I am insistent on the matter," Gandalf said. "Do you think that our pursuers would not take notice of her separation? That they would not act upon it? Hm?"

Thorin was silent.

"Emily must remain under my direct supervision. It is in her best interest and all those present here that she be kept far from our enemies' reach," Gandalf stated. "It is too great already, the knowledge she possesses of this quest… as well as matters above us all."

With a sinking feeling, I felt everyone's eyes focus on me; even Bilbo was staring like I had suddenly sprouted a tail. And I realized I hadn't sat back down, being too stupefied by the conversation. My face was red when Thorin made eye contact. I frowned, trying not to fidget.

What are you thinking?

"It is settled, then," he finally said, still looking at me.

"Thorin," Balin began to protest.

He faced the elder Dwarf with a weary expression. "That is the end of it," he decided.

"Lovely!" Gandalf beamed, having gotten his way. "Sit down, Emily."

But I couldn't. My fight or flight was screaming still. Run, run, run!

"Uh… I erm."

I was drawing attention again.

"I actually… need my shoes," I finished lamely. "So, uh…"

Gandalf saw my need to get away and patted my arm, "You're excused, my dear." He gave me a reassuring wink and I quickly scooted past Bilbo into the atrium. "Now, as I was saying before being so rudely interrupted… The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth…"

I power walked out of sight and leaned against a wall to calm down. Hey, hey, it's okay. Ems, you survived. It's okay. Walk it out, Em.

No matter how much I told myself I was alright, the feeling of dread and anxiety remained. Pushing off the wall, I made to go outside to see if my things had dried. I hoped so. I still felt odd going around barefoot.

Just as I reached the front door, the room became dim, the whole house did as if all the light had been sucked out of it. I froze for a moment, the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as magic prickled through the air.

It was Gandalf, I realized as his baritone boomed from the dining room. He'd gone all Storm-Crow again. Everything was fine.

But even with the realization, in those few moments in the magic-infused darkness, I felt uneasy, unsettled, as if I weren't alone.

I hadn't forgotten the promise.

The lights came back quickly, and the warmth of the hearths' sprang back to meet my skin which had grown chilled in the short period of their absence. I didn't move for a good minute, my fingers wrapped tightly around Thrain's cuff for support. I was shaking.

Breathe, Em.

The night was warm and the stars bright enough to light my way around the smial. I checked the clothes on the line and found my shirt, skirt, and tights dry, but my blazer was still wet at the lapels and bottom. With a nervous glance around to make sure no one was nearby, I tugged down my tights from the line. It took a lot of hopping, near falls, and awkward balancing to get them on—I should have just dressed in the bathroom again. I slipped my skirt on underneath my violet one, lifting my sword belt up to adjust the waist. My boots were still a bit damp inside as I expected but it wasn't enough to deter me.

I shuffled around outside, somewhat reluctant to go back in and face everyone. I just felt out of place. Again.

I was glad as all hell that Gandalf had my back and ensured me a place on the journey, if not in the company, but… to be completely honest, I felt a bit crummy about it. I was a loophole, a clause in the verbal contract: If you want the Wizard, you get the girl too. It's a package deal, take it or leave it.

They didn't want me, for the most part. Thorin didn't want me. Sure, my charm and endearing personality would win them all over in time (spoken with a tone of sarcasm, by the way) but, it might sound dumb but… I wanted to be wanted.

Maybe it wasn't so dumb, after all.

I let myself sigh, mulling around the backyard. Okay, it isn't that bad. Sure, everyone's bothered by my presence and probably will be for awhile. But. They'll start to like me. The same with Bilbo! Right? I mean, sure, I don't really have an actual purpose in the company (that I can tell them) but its okay. I was on a quest of my own, in a way. So secret, only I could know. It just…sort of sucked. My secrets kept me isolated, but, hopefully, it won't be in vain. My stomach tried to shrink in on itself, worry gripping my insides. No, no, no, stop!

"You're not going to do this to yourself!" I growled then quickly looked around, expecting someone who have caught be berating myself. No one was around. "Just… save the upset stomachs for later, when it's really serious… And stop talking to yourself, Em. For Merlin's sake."

I groaned, and headed back into Bag End to find that the group had disbanded and were now scattered through the house. Great. So much for my go-to avoidance plans. Okay, plan B: find someone to latch onto. Kili's laughter suddenly reached my ears; he was close by. Correction: find someone to cling to who wouldn't ask questions!

I went the other way, skirting around the others when I could, shooting nervous smiles when I couldn't. For some reason, this night was triggering the worst school flashbacks. All I could think about was my old dodge ball strategy—stay on the sidelines and, if you make eye contact, wear a face that says "please leave me alone".

Bifur was sitting alone in a hallway, looking like he was in time out, if I didn't know better. "Hey!" I called, ambling over. Okay, so we weren't exactly great on communication but it didn't seem to hinder us much. He perked up at my voice and raised his fists in greeting.

"So, what's up?"

"Izbad ogamut men!" he cried, holding one palm horizontally then bringing his other hand down on it. Bifur shook his head.

"Oh…?"

"Assuming you didn't get a word," Bofur came up behind us, (again with his good timing). "He was talking about Mister Baggins."

"Bofur! Hey. Wait, what about Bilbo?"

He shrugged. "Took a bit of a fall earlier, had a nasty fright, I imagine."

My eyes narrowed, "You weren't describing the dragon again, were you?"

Bofur looked surprised. "Of course not!" he said, "I was describing ways in which the dragon might kill us."

I sighed.

"Ozirum seleku."

"Huh?"

Bofur chuckled, nodding at his cousin.

"What is it?" I asked. "What'd he say?"

"Referring to our burglar-to-be," he said with a smirk. "Says he couldn't forge a spoon. Quite right too."

"Oi. Be nice," I said sternly, crossing my arms. "Bilbo's a friend of mine."

"Niceties hardly sway the truth, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, I guess… Well, I'm gonna check on him," I announced, stepping away from the two. I shot them a playful grin, "And for the record, I can't forge a spoon either, so watch yourselves."

I heard Bofur laughing, then quickly translating as I left. The brief interaction put me in a considerably lighter mood but I still was uneasy, like I was the odd man out, the last player chosen for a team and left to awkwardly pretend like I wasn't offended. This was the pits.

Oop! There goes the Kili radar, I thought, taking a sharp left turn. I didn't have anything against him, really. He was cool. A little obnoxious sometimes but we all have our flaws. I just felt the need to burrow and hide, not socialize. It was the thought of Bilbo, feeling invaded and uncomfortable in his own home made me seek him out.

I wandered into the kitchen, following the faint sound of Bilbo's voice—he seemed to be repeating himself—but found he wasn't present. I froze upon seeing Oin, Gloin, and Ori at the table, and Dori bustling around. I wanted to back out and pretend I'd never seen them but knew that'd only make things weirder. I gave an ill-looking smile. I didn't want to just ignore them all, but I wasn't sure what to say.

"No, no, hardly even a lump," I heard Bilbo say from the connecting room. Ah ha. He was in the parlor. Of course, he was. "My head's stopped swimming."

The kettle started to whistle softly, causing Dori to swiftly take it off the fire and begin to rummage through the cupboards. "Oh, these teacups seem much too fragile," he said to himself, picking one up disdainfully. "He's so shaken he might drop it and we can't have that mess."

He meant Bilbo, didn't he?

I dared myself to break the silence. "Uh, th-there's some mugs here, if you'd like," I said, opening a cabinet and retrieving one. "They're a bit sturdier…"

Dori paused to look me up and down. "I suppose that'll do... Thank you. Miss," he added after a thought, taking the mug.

The other three were watching me, making me a bit nervous. "Uh, if that's for Bilbo, I can take it. I was going to see how he's doing anyway—"

"No, I have it!" Dori said testily, holding the cup from my reach. "Not letting you get the credit, am I?" Then he added under his breath, "Why don't you grab him a broom? I'm sure that'll be helpful."

Yeah, once you remove it from your arse. I glared at his back as he scampered off, fighting the urge to say my retort. It was so good, but if I was going to make friends with the rest of the company, sassy remarks wouldn't help any.

I noticed Ori had gone still, no longer drawing in his book but not looking up from it. Maybe he felt uncomfortable without his brother? Oin and Gloin were silent, sharing contemptuous faces that were obviously caused by me. I considered forcing small talk but instead high-tailed it out of there.

"…And I thought something sturdier would hold up better, what with your nerves," Dori was saying to Bilbo who was clutching the mug of tea, nodding.

"Again, thank you," Bilbo said thinly, looking a bit peeved. He waited for the Dwarf to leave before muttering a low, "I'm frankly surprised they left anything larger than a crumb in the house, let alone enough for a cup of tea..."

"Bilbo," I greeted, flashing a grin to Gandalf who was smoking his pipe by the window. "How are you feeling? I heard you sort of feinted because of the drag—" I stopped at seeing Gandalf warningly shake his head at me—"Uh, so how are you feeling?"

"I'll be alright," Bilbo dismissed; it seemed like he'd gotten that question a lot in the past ten minutes or so.

"Are you sure? Did Oin give you a once over?"

"A once…? Er, wait, h-hold on," he sputtered, turning in his armchair to watch me grab a nearby candle.

"Open your eyes wide?" I directed, leaning in closer, trying to see if his pupils were dilated. I'd seen enough ER shows to recognize the bad symptoms.

"That's close enough; the wax might drip! W-what are you doing?"

"Checking for signs of a concussion… Umm…" The flame of the candle wasn't the best source of light for this kind of thing. I wish I had my pen light on me but it was tucked away in my pack with Ororo.

"What? E-Emily, I'm fine, I assure you," Bilbo said firmly. "I appreciate the concern but it is very unnecessary."

I pulled back, and frowned. "You're really sure you didn't hit your head too badly?"

"Yes. I am quite sure, thank you. Just… let me sit quietly for a moment."

Gandalf scowled down at him. "You've been sitting quietly for far too long!"

"Inside voice," I said to Gandalf then whispered behind my hand, "He might have a concussion."

"I don't have a—Oh, why bother," Bilbo groaned into his mug, taking a sip. I made sure he saw me smile to know that I'd been joking, and he forced one back.

Gandalf looked between us with a frown. "Would you give us a moment?" he said to me; it was less of a request than an order. "There are a few matters of which Master Baggins could enlighten me."

Bilbo looked up at him, surprised, as I exited into the hall rather than the kitchen again. The sound of the Wizard's chastising voice fading. It was probably better that I left Bilbo alone for a while. These were the hours that would change his mind about Dwarves and adventures after all.

I weaved around the scattered company until I found myself in the study which was, thankfully, empty. I shut the door behind me, feeling a little guilty for being there without Bilbo's permission. At the far side of the room was a window, overlooking his starlit garden, and to the side was a door, which upon further inspection, led to Bilbo's bedroom. I caught one look at his pre-made bed and shut the door.

"Sorry," I whispered to the room, if it could hear me.

There were only a few candles lit at the windowsill and desk, making the study very dim. I hooked my finger in one of the candle holders and took a better look around. There was a large desk, even by human standards, and a small hearth with dull red embers that only just warmed the air. But the majority of the decorations, or rather, the furnishings, were maps. No wonder he was so keen on taking up the quest. He wanted to see the world he was so fascinated by.

Geez. If I didn't know any better, it was a lot like me. Well. Sure, I'd wanted to travel before all of this, to the UK, Japan, Germany… Hell, even in my fantasies I'd wanted to see fictional places, like Hogwarts, Narnia, Gallifrey, and, of course, Middle Earth. But now, being here… It's not like I wasn't excited to see these places and meet these amazing people but…everything else, the circumstances… it was wrong. It drained the blissful joy I could have been having because there was always that nagging darkness at the back of my mind. The fortress. The promise. The danger. The possibility of failure, of never getting home, of death. And not just mine.

My eyes scanned over a large map on the wall. It was hand drawn and showed the entirety of Middle Earth, although lacking some detail and names. I stared at the expansive forest in the East, labeled 'Greenwood'. The southern fortress was absent from the map but knowing its approximate position was all I needed. It took a bit longer to locate Chetwood Forest, the second place I'd returned to in Middle Earth.

I bit my lip.

It was always a forest. The one near my house, Mirkwood, Chetwood—it was the only pattern I could see. But that was about it. Not even the type of trees were the same.

I sighed.

"Okay… At least it's something," I said to myself. "I dunno what it means but… it's something."

For now, all I could do was store the information and hope some dots that I could connect would suddenly appear. Until then, I had to continue on with life, with the quest… especially my own secret quest. About that… Have I mentioned how crummy that made me feel? Having a legitimate reason to tag along and get in the way but not be able to justify myself to anyone…?

A door slammed shut and I jumped. Muffled talking came through the door from Bilbo's bedroom. Oh, crap. He must've gone to hide too. As much as I wanted to stay in my new spot, which was so much better than the bathroom, I didn't want to intrude on Bilbo's privacy.

As soon as I left, I noticed the drastic change in atmosphere. Things were much quieter, more somber. I wandered through Bag End until I heard the drone of Thorin's unmistakable voice in the stillness of the smial. My heart was beating faster and my palms were sweaty but I'd already made up my mind. This was something I had to do.

He was sitting with Balin in the hall when I finally found him. Their voices, though quiet, were discernible until I came nearer.

"We will see it done," Balin said, placing a hand on Thorin's shoulder.

Thorin bowed his head in silent thanks, a smile crossing his lips. But then he saw me and the smile fell from his face. That seemed to be my signature entrance: ruining nice moments. I felt like an ass for interrupting their private conversation but, it was too late now.

"Er… hi," I said lamely, my shoulders hunching nervously and my fingers lacing and unlacing in front of me.

"Miss Emily," nodded Balin. His eyes briefly flickered to Thrain's cuff but he seemed unfazed as if he had already known about it. Did Thorin tell him about it already? Had Thorin talked to him about me? He must have! I felt myself go red. "Was there something you needed?"

I blinked, shaking the blush away. "Um. Yes. I just… Can—can I talk to Thorin?" I felt like a moron the moment the question left my mouth. I sounded like a kid asking their friend's parents if they could come out and play.

Thorin raised his brows at my request, or more so at the fact that I had asked Balin for permission to speak with him rather than himself. The pair shared a meaningful look, one that I really didn't like, that made me almost certain that Thorin had been talking about me. But I couldn't tell if it had been positive or negative. Urg.

Balin gave me a smile, that amused look still in his eyes. "Of course, Miss Emily. He's all yours."

I watched him go, feeling a bit apprehensive now that I was alone with the Dwarf-king. Remember the mountains and the camping; this was that Thorin. Stop being so nervous!

"What is it you wished to speak to me about?" he asked gruffly; I couldn't tell if he was irritated or just wanted to sound authoritative.

"Everything," I shrugged, gesturing around us, then backtracked, "Well, not everything. I mean, it's more specific than that. Uh, i-is this hallway shrinking?"

"Pardon…?"

"What? Oh! That was out loud? Sorry! I uh… I just need air."

Idiot, idiot, idiot!

You couldn't even manage a sentence, Em! A sentence!

"Is it alright if we go outside? Please?"

It took a moment for Thorin to process what I'd said—perhaps he'd forgotten how terribly awkward I could be. But he nodded nonetheless, steeling his expression for the coming conversation. "This way," he instructed, leading me down a narrow corridor that branched off the West Hall. There were only two doors, one on the left which was shut (I could hear Bilbo ranting inside), and the other at the end of the hall which led outside.

As soon as we left the hole, I felt myself relax. As Thorin turned to shut the door behind us, I drew in a long steadying breath and closed my eyes. Just for a moment, in the darkness behind my eyelids, in the peace of the night's song, I could have been anywhere. In my backyard even.

"Miss Parker?" Thorin's baritone drew me back to Bag End. "There was a reason for your wanting to speak with me," he said, snapping me back on point.

"Yeah," I drawled, ambling along the garden path. I just didn't know how to begin…

Thorin was patient though, not showing any outward signs of irritation at my lack of response. I'm sure he had noticed my wringing hands and creased brow.

The path led to the front of the house, conveniently to a wooden bench surrounded by marigolds and small pink flowers. I sat down quickly, despite the need to pace. He took a seat a moment after, an arm's width between us, and watched me. I forced my hands to still, gripping my knees to ensure I didn't start playing with my braid.

"I, erm…" Oh, can you just think it through before you speak, Em? I swallowed, glancing at him. "It's about the Quest… and, erm, my going?"

Thorin straightened, leaning back on the bench, and his gaze became somber as he learned the subject of our talk. "You know my thoughts on the matter."

"I know," I said, frowning. "But… I wanted to, well, maybe, change your mind?"

His brows furrowed. "I cannot see the purpose. I disagree with Gandalf on all points of your safety. He wishes to spare you from potential dangers; I wish to spare you from those which are guaranteed. Perhaps if he had shown this concern for you earlier, you would not have found yourself in the Greenwood unaccompanied."

I turned sideways to face Thorin, one hand gripping the back of the bench. "But we didn't know there were any serious threats before! I-it isn't Gandalf's fault that I was—Look, it isn't even about that!" I ran a hand through my fringe. "Forget about all of the magic and stuff! I'm not trying to argue whether or not I'm safer somewhere else; that doesn't matter."

"It matters to some, if not yourself," Thorin cut in, his voice stern.

I sputtered at his statement, heat rising to my cheeks. It was a struggle to find my words again. "Uh. Um…" And in my fumbling, he continued, allowing his mounting temper to show through.

"I do not know what Gandalf has told you of this Quest, Miss Parker, but it is not to be taken lightly."

"I know that! I-I'm not trying to live out some crazy fantasy by going with you—er, all of you. Honestly, I'm scared out of my mind."

"As you should be," he replied tersely. "All else aside, we cannot afford a liability when we come into battle, and we will. It would be risking the well-being of my company."

"But you were willing to accept Bilbo!"

"I was left with no other choice," Thorin growled. "Nor was I with you."

"I've been training though," I protested. "I'm no warrior, but… I'm not helpless!"

"Miss Parker, I appreciate your efforts—"

"But they aren't good enough, are they?"

Thorin eyes smoldered as he restrained his anger. "I cannot fathom why you would argue after your place has already been secured by the Wizard."

"Because! I need you to understand!" I shouted, losing my cool, as oddly enough, Thorin regained his.

"And what am I to understand, then?"

"That I belong with you! Er, with the company, I mean. That I belong on the Quest!"

He blinked and half the anger was gone from his eyes. His brows met and he studied me. "Why is it you seek my approval?"

I blinked rapidly, caught off guard. I… wasn't really sure, to be honest. I couldn't put it into words, this feeling, this urge to make him accept me. That was the honest truth.

My gaze wandered, unable to keep eye contact. "I just really— what the…?"

In the round window, close to where we sat, were the faces of Fili and Kili, looking at us with both stern and curious expressions, respectively. Thorin followed my gaze and his nephews quickly ducked out of sight. He muttered something under his breath.

I must have blanched three shades, realizing that they had been eavesdropping the whole time. "Um… D-do you mind if, if we not sit here…?" I stammered, glancing back at the window, expecting them to pop up again. "Can we walk?"

He stood, silently agreeing, and I jumped up too, three seconds too soon to take the hand he'd offered. I felt a little bad that I'd missed the kind gesture, and disappointed too, and embarrassed, but I shot him a crooked smile to let him know it was appreciated. I felt stupid and spazzy.

"I will speak to them," he told me, letting me know that his nephews would get a good earful. I almost wanted to say that it wasn't necessary but, well, I didn't.

Bilbo's gate shut after us and Thorin waited for me to choose a direction. "Er… this way?" I said, nodding left.

The first few minutes were silent, with only our boots rolling a few pebbles along the road. I knew he was waiting for me again, so I jumped back into the conversation (debate more like) before I could lose my nerve.

"I know how important this quest is to you… but it is to me too, in a different way," I explained. I averted my eyes from him, not trusting them not to tear."I just… It doesn't feel right, tagging along, with you not wanting me to…"

He stopped walking, and a step later, I did too. He inclined his head slightly, reading me. "Even if I were to withhold my permission, if I were to forbid your going, you would still nonetheless," he said, giving me a calculating look. "Am I not correct?"

I lowered my head. "I'm not doing this just to go against you," I sighed.

"Then, what is your reason?"

My eyes snapped up to his intense, burning stare. My reason for going…? It was such a simple question but the answer… I suppose that was simple too.

For Fili and Kili…

For you.

"For Thrain," I finally said.

His brows knitted together in confusion, his gaze urging me to explain.

"Before he… before he died, I promised him something. Something very, very important, and to do it, I have to go on the Quest," I told him. "It was the only promise I made to him, and I'm not going to break it, even if it kills me. Kinda hoping that it doesn't kill me but, er... yeah."

Thorin stared at me with a wide-eyed look that almost rivaled Kili's. "What promise did you make to my father…?"

I felt my heart drop.

How could I just tell him…? Could I? If I did… well, I'm not sure how he'd react. Probably not well. Thorin would probably feel insulted that his father thought he needed looking after, and by some weirdo teenager no less! And he'd probably think me incapable of doing anything remotely helpful anyway, even if my intentions were good, which might be the truth... But I had to try. I'll be damned if I didn't try. No, telling him wouldn't bode well for either of us. Not now.

I shook my head in response, and Thorin clenched his jaw at my refusal. "I can't tell you now but… but I will," I added quickly. "It just has to be the right time."

Thorin, understandably, didn't seem satisfied. I'm sure the curiosity was killing him and if I thought answering his query would bring him any comfort, I would have. Really!

"Please, Thorin. If anyone, you would understand. Thrain left the Quest to you and this to me. I have to do this. I have to keep my promise."

His eyes lowered in thought, fixating on his father's cuff that dangled over my shoulder. I felt compelled to say more, to beg if I had to, but said nothing, letting him think.

"I will not stand in your way," he said softly, and raised his eyes to mine. Then, in an afterthought, he rested a hand on my arm, just above where my shirt sleeve ended. "Whatever task my father has placed upon you, whatever burden you carry, do not let it consume you."

I looked at him questioningly, at the sincerity of his words. "Thorin…?"

He pursed his lips. "My father… had a tendency of asking more of a person than they could offer. If you find it too difficult to accomplish, do not hold it against yourself. Despite all of his faults, I know my father would not blame you, nor would I."

Oh, god. Thorin. You don't know what you're saying…

"If in any way I can assist you, you need only ask."

I found I couldn't breathe, or rather, that I had stopped breathing altogether, and took in a shuddering lungful of air. "Thorin, I—Thank you…" I gave him a small smile, feeling on the verge of crying. Why, I didn't entirely know. I think it was a good type of wanting to cry. "So… this is officially you saying it's okay for me to go?" I asked hopefully, my smile turning toothy.

Thorin's hand dropped from my arm. "I do not object to your presence in the company," he said carefully. "I understand that this is a risk you must take, for your own peace of mind."

Right. Point taken. I nodded happily. "That really means a lo—"

I stopped talking as the smial door directly next to us noisily swung open.

On instinct, Thorin stepped between me and the mop-haired figure in the doorway. I had to squint to make out his features until he came forward into the starlight.

"Holy crap. It's that guy we almost ran over!" I gasped.

The old Hobbit stared at us, eyes narrowed and holding a lumpy bag at his side. "All these big folk coming 'round in the middle of the night! Looking for trouble, lurking on my property," he muttered angrily. "Off with ya now! Off with ya!" He waved us on.

Seriously?

He lobbed something at us, which totally missed but made me try to duck out of the way. It was a carrot, I saw, as the old man readied another from his bag. He threw it and missed again.

"We meant you no offense, Master Hobbit," Thorin said, trying to placate him.

"Yeah, sorry…" I added but it didn't seem to calm him any.

He shook a carrot at us in what was assumed to be a threatening manner. "There's more to come, I warn yer! Shoo! Shoo!"

"We had best return..." Thorin said to me, leading me away from the vegetable-wielding elder, before he could throw another at us. Thorin didn't let him out of his sight until we were well out of the carrot range.

It was actually a bit funny, and it brought back a flash of me and Jen, running away from Mrs. Colgate in the dead of night, me not watching where I was going and putting my foot through a big pumpkin. It was ridiculous! The scariest Halloween thus far. I covered my mouth to hide a snicker but Thorin picked up on it immediately in the quiet night. He gave me a questioning look.

I shook my head. "That just... reminded me of something," I shrugged. "A friend of mine back home..." I felt a bit silly and I didn't need Thorin to have a mental image of me hobbling around a farm with a pumpkin stuck to my foot, screaming. It just wasn't dignifying. "We got into shenanigans," I said simply.

He nodded and didn't ask more.

I saw Bag End just around the bend, the only smial with it's lights on and chimneys smoking heavily. I didn't really want to go back just yet, but I assumed Thorin was ready to rejoin the others. I hope I didn't bother him. I kind of liked our one on one time, you know, after I got over my petrifying fear of talking to him. I felt the need to say something more before we arrived, so I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"I really liked talking to you!" I said so loudly and suddenly, I think I might have scared him. "I-I mean, about that stuff, not just in general. But talking in general, to you, is fine too! Uh." Abort mission! Abort mission! Someone shoot me now! I tried to correct myself, "I mean, I'm glad that we talked. About that. And stuff. And, uh..."

Fuuuuuuuuuck.

I ducked my head, hoping he didn't see how red my face had gotten. My blush was so hot, I could have fried an egg on my forehead.

I was surprised when Thorin replied to that horrifying babble of dialogue. He'd been silent for a good half minute, maybe trying to dissect what I'd said to him or just getting over some secondhand embarrassment, if he got that. He seemed above such things but I had a skill of amplifying the awkward in a room.

"I share the sentiment, Miss Parker," he said in a low tone.

I bit my lip and had to fully look away. Well, that didn't help my blush any but I sure felt better. Yeah, I was a bit of an idiot around him but… he didn't seem too put off by it. Maybe after all that fumbling and considering jumping out of windows, I did something right. Finally.

Footnotes

1) The name I chose for Bofur and Bombur's father comes from the Norse mythological giant, Brimir, whose blood was said to have created the Dwarves.

2) I had written out an "Emily is forced to sing" scene but despite the hilarity of Emily's god awful singing voice and how the "Cup Song" would make such a great segway into the Blunt the Knives scene, I decided to spare myself and Emily the dignity. Though for the record, the whole cup/clapping rhythm would've totally impressed the Dwarves, just saying. It's a skill.