Author's note: This is an impulse write born from a random convo i had with a friend, so I am not aiming for a 100% lore accuracy, albeit I do try to keep close to that. This is a fun little side project, so if you wanna come along for the ride, tighten your seatbelts and wave most of logic goodbye. (I obviously own nothing of the Tolkien verse or the related movies, if i did i'd probably be writing this from a small mansion)

Chapter one: Unlucky coincidences

Percy really pitied the poor hobbits who had the terrible luck of existing in the Shire in this particular time frame of unlucky coincidences.

Her arrival had earned her more than a handful of scandalized, suspicious glares, but she had apparently been far from the first intruder disturbing the peace on the quiet evening that stretched over the cozy gardens and round homes that littered the ground around. Many scents still lingered on the path in front of her, so mixed with the smell of flowers and the tobacco from someone's pipe that they couldn't be told apart, but their colourful mess was enough to lead her to the right place.

Her boots barely made a sound as she followed the trail, hand resting on the knife tucked in her belt. It was more instinct than intent, something that had brought her comfort in the countless nooks and crannies of the scummiest places this world had to offer. And Percy had been scouting these out for nearly two centuries. Even if some people, namely certain wizards, still had the habit of talking to her as if she were a careless youngling. Careless, maybe. But not young, despite the fact that she had seemingly not aged since she had turned twenty two.

Thank her mother for that, whatever she had been.

A few minutes later Percy came to the conclusion that that certain forementioned wizard liked to be dramatic apparently, if the glowing sign on the round green door was anything to go by. The paint still had a faint smell to it, as if it had been applied recently. So much for appreciating honest work from Gandalf.

Percy raised her hand to knock, but stopped halfway. Hesitation started to claw in the back of her mind. Gandalf hadn't elaborated much when he had offered her the job, and every question asked was evaded by more unclear answers that had done nothing but made her head hurt. Wizards were always like that, luring you in with riddles until you found yourself on some insane monster hunt or quest through an ancient wicked stronghold. And yet still…he had promised there'd be money. Enough to allow her not to worry about a thing for the rest of her life, even if the length of that was highly debatable.

It was worth it.

And she could always bail if he turned on his word.

Hurried steps sounded from behind the door as she knocked, accompanied by displeased mumbling as it was pulled open by the first hobbit she had seen up close. An extremely annoyed hobbit if his expression was anything to go by, the cause presumably being the loud noise and clank of cutlery coming from behind him. She could tell, just by the polished wooden shelves and neatly arranged furniture in the hallway, that this was not a home often visited by chaos. Or wizards. Or the usual combination of the two.

Percy opened her mouth to greet him, but he beat her to it.

"Let me guess, you are here for the party?"

Party?

Is that what Gandalf had called whatever miserable ragtag group he had gathered together this time?

Fair enough.

As she tried to reply to his question, she was yet again interrupted, this time by the familiar booming voice of the wizard who appeared down the hallway like a gray omen planning on making her life harder.

"Percival my dear! I am glad you decided to join us."

Percy had to use every ounce of self control she had not to snarl at him. Nobody ever called her that, not since a long time ago. But it was her name, and he was a wizard, and breaking his nose for using it was certainly not an option here. So she swallowed her pride and gave a nod, cursing at her parents for giving her a name that constantly made people overwhelmed with the urge to poke around for her past and ask questions. It wasn't even the fact that it was traditionally a boy's name that warranted people's curiosity. No, most of them just wanted to know if she had any connection to the story of disgrace that had unfolded more than a hundred and fifty years ago.

But the perfect daughter that had been Percival had died a very long time ago. Now she was just Percy, a half breed thief and a knife for hire.

And Mahal, whatever was unfolding here for sure needed divine help.

Swords thrown in the umbrella holder and mud churning the carpet led towards an emptied pantry and the room where all the missing chairs from the home had gone. She could hear the clank of cutlery and the exceptionally loud song that explained a plan of home ruination in excruciating detail. No wonder master Baggins looked as devastated as he did.

Only one thing in all of Middle earth could make that kind of noise.

Dwarves.

Her suspicion was confirmed a second later as a mess of blond hair flew past her, spinning in just the right second to catch a plate tossed through the doorway. Percy had to duck sharply to avoid the second one, taking a step back to stand next to the horrified hobbit that seemed ready to collapse over his mother's porcelain cups being treated this way.

Percy might have snorted a little. Just a little.

Her smile however quickly disappeared as the blond dwarf spun around and faced her.

Familiar. Way too familiar. the blond hair, the blue eyes, the goofy grin. A reminder of a time long gone past.

But Frerin had died in Moria, and this was simply another unlucky coincidence.

Those seemed to follow her wherever she went.

The blond dwarf eyed her with unmasked curiosity, from the tips of her worn out leather boots to the fact that she was on the same eye level as him. She had seen that confusion in anyone who came across her as they tried to figure out what she was, pondering over the combination of dwarven height, slightly pointed ears and the pretty pair of fangs she usually bared at them for staring too long. The answer was as simple as that one word however - combination. That was all she was. A half-bred bastard with an unknown mother and a father she no longer considered her own.

But he didn't need to know that. Let him wonder.

The dwarf opened his mouth for what was presumably a greeting,but he got as far as "Fili-" before another one slid out of the makeshift tavern in their host's dining room and presented Percy with a dramatic bow.

"-and Kili, at your service." he said as he glanced back up with a silly grin. Percy rised an eyebrow. She had almost forgotten about the dramatic mannerisms dwarves had always had. A couple of sarcastic comebacks tried to force their way out, but she swallowed them back.

"Fili and Kili huh?" yet another peculiar mannerism of dwarven families she had always found amusing "Brothers I presume?"

Two nods affirmed her suspicion.

"And you are?" Kili asked, looking at her with the same curiosity his brother had a couple moments earlier. She couldn't help but smile a little. They reminded her of herself many years back, when the world had still seemed new and full of discoveries instead of the nasty shithole it had turned into.

"You can call me Percy. Just Percy. Nothing else, no matter what the wizard tells you."

"He hasn't really said any-"

"Good."

The less they knew about her, the better. It always made the job easier.

Percy caught the whiff of stew and baked bread in the air as she made a step towards what was supposedly the dining room. Her stomach rumbled in support. The road had been long and if she could get a warm meal without fighting anybody, that'd be a blessing in itself.

The heat from the fireplace hit her in the face another step later, making her pull her hood down before she stepped through the doorway. She thanked the Vala that the pile of dark curls on her head barely reached below her ears, or it'd have been unbearable.

As the occupants of the room noticed the newcomer who had stepped in, the merry chatter suddenly came to a halt. The dead silence that ensued was near deafening, broken solely by a few quiet gasps. Somebody dropped a place.

The realisation dawned on Percy a few moments later, just as Kili opened his mouth to ask what was going on from behind her. As she crossed eyes with Dwalin, and then with his brother Balin from next to him, decades older and yet still recognisable as if she had seen him yesterday. Oin, who had saved her sorry ass from infected wounds countless times, along with Gloin handing him back the hearing pipe he had dropped. Dori and Nori with a new face of a young dwarf between them. Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, all three of them in different stages of the confusion.

And the last gaze, the piercing blue eyes that mirrored the colour of her own from across the room. The stone expression that now seemed to start cracking.

Percy turned to Gandalf, the words leaving her mouth before she could think to stop them.

"You son of a bitch"