If anyone's curious about what the gold coin looks like here's a link: /product/treasure-of-erebor-gold-coin-the-hobbit-the-battle-of-the-five-armies/

For the love of all writers struggling because of corporate greed... REVIEW! Tell me you love me, or tell me you hate me, just don't ignore me! My little writer-heart can't take it! Lol XD

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"It is impossible to learn that which one thinks one already knows." -Epictetus

~Chapter 3~

I Believe in Science

"She's coming to!" a female exclaims.

"Easy now…easy…you took a nasty fall." A male voice sounds closer to my ear this time. "Are you able to open your eyes?"

I flutter my eyes, trying to open them, only to close them again as the pain finally registers from my face where I hit the floor. I let out a painful groan.

"Ugh, I had the strangest dream. I was… in Middle Earth in the Shire? And a young, hot version of Thorin Oakenshield found me and dropped me off in a hobbit village…It was all so weird…"

Silence.

The female voice chimes in again, "Thorin Oakenshield?… Oh! Does she perhaps mean that dwarf that comes by to work in the smithy every once in a while? Quite the looker that one!"

That makes my eyes snap open immediately.

Two faces peer down at me. An older man with grey curly hair and spectacles, and the other a woman with golden curly hair and full lips. They both have pointy ears sticking up through their hair.

My scream echoes through the room, and I hold my hands out while also trying to pull away from them in terror. Very difficult when you're lying on the floor, but I manage to slide myself backward a foot.

The elderly…hobbit!?...with grey curly hair holds up both hands placatingly, "There now, it will be alright! Calm down Miss! You fainted, and you hit your head. I am Doctor Pudbrook. I am here to help you!"

"Who are you!? Where am I!?" I beg him, hoping he doesn't say-

"You're in Michel Delving, Miss. In the Shire. In…uh…Middle Earth?" he turns to the female creature questioningly and she nods. He looks back at me, eyebrows raised, "Are you NOT from Middle Earth then, Miss? Have you traveled far?"

I scream.

And then I scream some more.

Scrambling away from both of them, I press myself up against a wall that some fabrics rest against. I'm still in the fabric store, in the Shire, and out of my mind.

The female hobbit shrieks as well and hurries away from me, looking as terrified of me as I am of her. "She's possessed!" She cries dramatically, pointing at me from behind a shelf.

"Calm down, Miss! Calm down!" The elderly hobbit creature yells. His hands go back and forth between covering his delicate ears to protect them from my inhuman banshee screeches and reaching out to me beseechingly.

I shake my head frantically with my back pressed back against the wall and my screams drowning out his voice, "No! NO! This isn't POSSIBLE! Hobbits aren't REAL! Middle Earth isn't REAL! Make it stop! Just MAKE IT STOP!" I sob and hold my hands to my ears. I don't want to hear his lilting accent or the polite worried tone of his voice, so different from the American droll where I come from.

I have to wake up! I have to wake up! WAKE UP PEYTON!

...

Many many hours later…

...

I sit calmly with the elderly hobbit at a square wooden table in the back of the fabric store. The hobbit seamstress has already packed her bags and closed the shop for the day more than two hours ago, allowing the doctor to continue 'treating' me here at the shop.

"This is insane. I've gone insane. Absolutely mental." I mumble to myself, eyes wide and staring at the intricate wood pattern of the chair as the doctor-hobbit sits across from me. "This isn't real," I murmur nonsensically, hoping I'm divergent and can get myself out of this. My brain feels numb. I think it may be broken.

"And pray tell, what is real?" Doctor Homer Pudbrook, as he had introduced himself after I had screamed myself hoarse, asks with an unamused raise of his eyebrow. He seems tired of my broken-record mutterings when he knows I can use intelligent speech.

"Science." I look down at the dark cell phone clasped tightly in my hand. It's the only thing that is keeping me anchored at the moment. "Science is real..."

"Science?" He parrots back, giving me a bemused look.

"Yeah. The study of how all things work?"

"I know what science is." The hobbit snaps back, before composing himself, "And science changes all the time my dear."

I smile to myself. I kinda like this sassy doctor-hobbit persona I've created in my delusional mind, but I'm not going to let him know it.

"Yeah, well, science dictates that people don't get sucked into fantasy novels and fictional wonderlands." I send a pointed glare at the hobbit, wishing he would follow said pre-determined rules.

After calming down from my screaming fest I had been able to fully convince the doctor that I wasn't from here when I showed him how my cellphone camera worked. After that I turned it off so I wouldn't waste the battery.

Maybe I just think I'm sane, but I'm really a lunatic? I briefly wonder if I'm one of those people in an insane asylum and this is what goes on in their heads while they listlessly gaze out the window…

"And yet, here you are." He says wryly, puffing away at a pipe as he leans comfortably in his chair.

I shake my head, "No. There must be some other explanation. I could very well be in a coma right now. In fact, I'm going to stick with that theory. I, Peyton Silva, am in a coma. Scientists still don't know exactly what happens in the brain during a coma."

Even while I say this, the smoke from his pipe itches my nose, and the gold coin glints at me from the table where I had placed it to show Dr. Pudbrook. It had been after I had first calmed down and told him what I remember. He had picked it up and hummed and hawed over it, saying it may very well be what caused my teleportation. But it didn't do anything when either he or I touched it. Eventually, he put it back on the table and said it seemed like a normal gold coin piece to him.

"Hmph." Pudbrook huffs. He ignores me for a minute before he finally sighs and asks, "So now what are you going to do?"

I stare blankly at him, "Do?"

"Yes, Miss Peyton. Where will you go? How will you live? You have no family here, no connections, no money, or supplies…that gold coin there would buy you about a week's worth of food and shelter, but I suggest you hold onto it in case it's important. And if you do spend it, you won't have a farthing to your name afterward. Therefore...what will you do?"

I stare at him blankly before finally shrugging, "Well, I imagine I'll wake up before long. I am in perfectly good health, so this coma shouldn't last. And then I can do a 'go-fund-me' on the internet to help pay for my medical bill. Comas aren't cheap."

He obviously doesn't understand all my words, but Doctor Pudbrook folds his arms and gives me a very fatherly sort of look. "I am very much real, Miss Peyton. Wherever you came from, you are here now. You might as well get used to the idea."

"Get used to the idea that I'm in a fantasy world talking to a doctor hobbit that doesn't exist and I'm going to be VERY late to my midterm test?" I tilt my head back to stare at the ceiling as I ponder this strange experience.

"I'll think about it," I continue breezily, giving him a charming smile.

WACK!

"YAOWWW!" I howl, grabbing my head in awful pain. I see a dark polished walking cane in the elderly hobbit's hand that had come out of nowhere… "What in the...DUDE! Why!?"

"Still think you're hallucinating?" The hobbit asks smugly.

The nasty sting from the wooden cane smacking me on my skull has also smacked me out of my numb, nonchalant attitude. I rub my head furiously.

"Ok, Rafiki! First off…OW! And second off, how is having a brain injury going to help me with my hallucinations?" I hiss. It hurts so freaking bad! I wouldn't be surprised if there was a lump the size of a quarter!

"Don't worry about it. You can't get brain injuries while in a coma." He deadpans, even while his eyes sparkle and he has a smug smile.

I freeze at that pronouncement and then my eyes fill with tears. Not from pain, but from fear and dismay. Fear that he might be right…Maybe science actually has failed me for the first time. What if I'm NOT dreaming or in a coma? That wooden cane certainly felt real. Just like everything has felt real since waking up this morning in a hole in the ground.

"I can't be in Middle Earth. It's just a story! A fairytale story! This is all so messed up….I'm not supposed to be here…. I want to go home…it's all…I can't…I just…." The sobs come back in full force and the tears start spilling out as I mentally collapse in front of the Doctor. Again. It's the only logical thing to do in a situation such as this, really.

I put my head in my hands and cry. Loudly. Man, this has been the craziest emotional trauma I've ever experienced in my entire life. This is the 4th time I've emotionally collapsed in front of Doctor Pudbrook in the past 6 hours though, to be honest. He seems to be used to it this time and ignores it for the most part besides heaving a tired sigh. It feels like I'm going through different cycles of acceptance, multiple times. One moment I'm fine and functioning until the next moment the whole situation suddenly overwhelms me and I have to start all over again. Like I'm adrift in the ocean and wave after wave is crashing on top of me.

"There there, dear. You mustn't blub. You will find a way home." A white piece of cloth dangles in front of me and I grab at the handkerchief and wipe my eyes without looking at him. He continues enthusiastically, trying for optimism, "You just have to come up with a plan! You seem to know OF Middle Earth, even though you have never been here before! Is there anyone you know of here that can help you? Any place you can go until you figure out how to get home? Or, to start, a place to stay for the night, at least?"

"I don't know anyone in Middle Earth." I warble. I'm so tired. I haven't rested all day except when I fainted and that wasn't a peaceful slumber. All this crying and yelling and confusion has utterly exhausted me. "I met Thorin Oakenshield, but I don't know anyone-"

Wait! Thorin!

A warm hope fills me as my brain funk seems to lift a little. "I might have a place to stay tonight? Thorin told me to go to an inn. The Bear's Head? He said to mention his name and they would put it on his tab or something. Where is the Bear Head Inn?"

"Bear Head…. OH! You mean Boar's Head! Come with me, I'll take you there." The good Doctor stands up and grabs a lantern hanging on the wall next to us. "Don't forget your coin."

I pick it up and slip in into my jean's pocket. We walk through the now-dark fabric store with only his light to guide us and a faint light coming from the round windows. He opens the round front door with the strange knob in the center and cordially indicates me to go in front of him like a gentleman. I step onto the dark street and look around.

It's late out. Our 'therapy session' had taken all day and there is no one in the streets. I'm grateful that Dr. Pudbrook brought the lantern because there are no electric lights to light up the path. Just some oil lamps on posts with a candle burning in a round glass window or two. The air is silent and cold. Too cold for crickets, if the steam from my breath is any indicator. I'm so glad I'm not out in the woods freezing to death!

"Now then! Off we go!" Doctor Pudbrook says cheerily as he closes the door behind us and we set off walking towards the thicker part of town. The road changes from hardened dirt into cobblestone as we pass by the mostly dark buildings. If I listen carefully, I can hear sounds coming from within some of them. The street widens out into a large main square where it is brighter with more lamposts and metal wrought benches. Flower pots hang from some of the buildings and there is a statue in the middle. Thorin had said it was of a King. The statue is made of stone and stands in the middle of a gurgling fountain. There's a metal crown on the man's head with a stone parchment in one hand and a metal quill in the other. I notice that he seems too tall to be a hobbit and must be a human. A human king in a Hobbit square? I wish I knew its history.

The Boar's Head Inn is beyond that, being the noisiest of the buildings in this city so far. Loud laughter and music comes from the open door with a warm orange glow brightening the foggy windows. My stomach gives a painful gurgle at the smell of food, beckoning me closer. I haven't had a single bite of food today. I had been too stressed before to notice how hungry I am. My body decides to be dramatic, now that my mind has caught up with it, and I start to tremble with hunger.

"Here we are, Miss Peyton." Doctor Pudbrook indicates the Inn before turning to me and smiling, "Consider this, my dear; there are no coincidences in this world or any other I imagine! All things happen for a reason- including your arrival. I am certain you will learn what your purpose is here eventually. Be sure not to lose that coin."

"Thank you, I really appreciate all your help Doctor." I smile gratefully at him. I walk a few steps away before what he said hit me. I turn back,"Wait, what do you mean...by..."

There is no one there.

"...that?" I frown in confusion, looking around. It's like he just vanished.

Huh, well if people are popping in and out of existence then that just goes along with my coma theory, right? A purpose? To me being here? I really have lost it.

...

"Maybe he was an angel hobbit!" The little boy pronounces eagerly, bouncing up and down the best he could while still sitting in bed.

"Shh! No interruptions." The mother paused and then smiled down at her son, "…and yes. Maybe he was."

...

I hurry into the inn, feeling a little spooked. I step inside and immediately the din of conversation and bouts of boisterous laughter fill my eardrums. I glance around and feel like I'm in a medieval theater set. Everything is made out of wood and metal. Not a plastic thing in sight. It all feels so primitive with the smell of oil lamps glowing inside lanterns around the room. A couple of female hobbits in dresses are delivering food, and the smell of alcohol mixed with the bitter scent of smoke immediately assaults my nostrils. I take shallow breaths through my mouth. Thank goodness for the Clean Indoor Air Act, am I right?

But the smell of food is also strong and my stomach gives another painful gurgle. I walk over to one of the attendants at the counter, beginning to feel faint from hunger.

Time to pray Thorin was right.

"Excuse me, sir?" I ask the male attendant. He looks up at me with a smile, which immediately drops in confusion once he takes in my appearance. My face heats up, "Umm, I-uhh, I would like to have a room for the night, please. And some food? And…and Thorin Oakenshield told me to mention his name?" I tap my fingers on the counter nervously but stop once I notice I'm doing it.

The attendee's eyebrows shoot up, but then his eyes narrow as he appraises me. I gulp. If this doesn't work, then I'll be sleeping on the street and starving. Hobbits wouldn't let someone starve in their town, would they? I don't want to have to hold up a cardboard box asking for food and shelter. There's no way I'm parting with my gold coin if there's a slight chance that it's responsible for bringing me here.

"The dwarf? Thorin Oakenshield? Are you sure?" He presses me, clearly not believing that an exiled dwarf King would ever have offered to fund a short, strangely-dressed human, such as myself. How did the seamstress describe him? A cross dwarf. And she's right...the character in the story that I knew was never generous.

"Yes." I nod, my eyes wide, "Yes, I'm certain. He's very intense. Tall for a dwarf. Uh, long, dark brown hair? Short beard, very imposing manners? Umm, very pretty blue eyes?" I try different descriptions, giving an embarrassed grimace at the last bit. I shouldn't have said that, but Thorin isn't around to hear anyways.

The attendee's lips twitch in a smile at that last part. He shakes himself and gives a huff, "Very well. Just remember that if you're lying then it'll be on YOUR head when he finds out." He turns to look behind him and motions to a wench across the room serving food. She nods her acknowledgment of him as she dishes out different bowls around the table.

"Yeah, I know." I smile in relief and shake my head, remembering our encounter this morning. I can't believe it was just this morning! "He's got a temper as big as his sword, and I've already been at the receiving end of the tip of his sword. It's BIG."

The attendee turns his head back to me with his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide...

"Yeah, that was my reaction too." I chuckle, "He pulled it out of nowhere! I wasn't expecting it to suddenly be in my face!"

I feel confused as he looks me up and down with a strange look in his eye. What? And then it hits me.

"Oh! No, no, NO! No, that's NOT what I meant! Why would you…? I meant his sword! You know, his sword?! He-he drew his sword and pointed it at me! Not his…his…" I'm blushing like a cherry tomato. Why am I even defending myself? This hobbit is obviously a pervert! Who in their right mind would hear me talking about someone's sword and they immediately think of that? A hobbit pervert, that's who!

I try to switch tactics, "I rode BEHIND him on his horse, I-I mean pony, and not in FRONT of him. So I don't know anything about size or…or ANYTHING like that. I-"

"Yes, Sebastian?", The hobbit wench asks as she finally reaches us. Her eyes widen as she takes in my strange clothing and red face that matches my hot pink hoodie.

The attendee…Sebastian… turns to the wench with a wry grin. His shocked expression had turned to one of amusement as I stumbled through my explanation like a fish flopping on the land, gasping for air. I wonder if he had done that on purpose just to make me squirm. The jerk! How did I ever end up in such a situation? It's not FAIR! I wish the ground would open and swallow me whole.

"Please find our guest a table and some food. She'll also be staying with us tonight and will need a room."

She turns to give me a hesitant smile, "Certainly! Please come with me."

I follow Gertrude, still red-faced and I don't look back at the attendee as I pass him. The waitress leads me to a wooden table with stains on it, and I take a seat on a sturdy wooden bench.

"I'll be right back with yer stew, Miss!" she tells me with a more friendly grin than earlier.

I offer a relieved smile, "Oh, thank you. I'm starving!"

"I'll make sure to add a roll for ya."

She leaves and I look around my first Middle Earth pub, adjusting to the candlelight. I'm not sure what I was expecting to be honest. Many hobbits are speaking around wooden tables, sitting on wooden chairs, and filling the hall. The wood on the floors is a darker shade than the walls, most likely from all the mud and ale and bits of food soaked up by the floor. A small dog is wandering from table to table, licking up the crumbs off the floor like a medieval version of a Roomba vacuum. I will need to clean my sneakers tonight…

To the side of the room is a bar with some sort of alcohol being served by a very large, very round, male hobbit with a pipe in his rosy laughing mouth. Everyone in the room is a hobbit and no one is wearing shoes, just big hairy feet. Most are chatting away with one another seeming to be from other hobbit towns and villages, just passing through Michel Delving. I even see two dwarves in a corner, speaking in low voices. Their beards are longer and fuller than Thorin's. I force myself to look away with a blush once they notice I'm openly gawking at them.

"Here ya go, ya wee thing! Eat up now!"

Gertrude interrupts my musings by setting a big bowl of thick stew in front of me and my mouth waters. I dig in, needing no encouragement. Chunks of savory meat, potatoes, carrots, onions, and cabbage are shoveled into my eager mouth. A large dark bread roll is next to the plate and I rip into it ravenously, dipping it into my stew to soak up the juices. The dark grainy bread is rich and dense and fills me right up. My stomach is happy and relaxed by the time I am done. Now that I've been fed, I feel a wall of exhaustion come up and hit me square in the face. I sigh sleepily, feeling more like myself for the first time that day.

"Well, I'll be! You cleaned your meal faster than thunder! Up with ya now, I'll be taking ya to your room."

Gertrude leads me back to the main room and grabs a burning candle before we head up some creaky stairs. It's dark, the only light comes from the candle's soft glow as she leads me down a wooden hallway full of doors. Some have light under the crack, but most of them are dark. We come to a dark door that she was apparently looking for. After she unlocks it for me, she hands me the thick iron key as well as the burning candle.

"First breakfast will be from 7 am-9 am. If you'll be needing your clothes washed we have a scullery maid that can do it for ye tomorrow morning. Do NOT lose that key." She was pleasant until the last bit where she was dead serious as she pointed to the metal object in my hand.

"Yes, ma'am." I dutifully reply as I clench the key tighter. She nods before turning to leave, returning downstairs without a candle to lead her through the darkness. I take it as my cue to go inside.

The shadows emitting from the candle are oppressive and large as I find myself alone for the second time today. A bed dominants most of the room and a small table stands to it's left with a few drawers. A single candle rests on the bedside table and I quickly go to light it, chasing the shadows back farther into their corners.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I can see the room a little clearer now.

The wooden floor has an intricate rug covering it, and the bed does look very comfortable. There's a window to the left of the bed, but I don't bother looking out of it. It's pitch black outside.

From the moment I opened my eyes this morning to the time I finished my food I have been in a constant state of panic and stress. I wouldn't be surprised if I aged ten years because of this horrible day. There's no mirror for me to look at to see if I have any grey hair. The bed thankfully looks comfortable, and I remember with gratitude that hobbits are notorious for comfort.

I then realize I have to go pee really bad. There's no adjoining bathroom (must be an outhouse somewhere). I grab a candle and do a small potty dance as I hurry back downstairs to the noisy pub. I spy Sebastian, the only one who seems available. I don't want to talk to him again. I look desperately around for Gertrude. I can't find her, or any other worker here, and time is running out. I don't have any choice so I go back to Sebastian and mutter, "Um, excuse me. Where is the restroom?"

I wish I had never asked.

TWO hours later, I am back in my room, upset and cold. The Inn's outdoor restroom had been located two minutes behind the building. It's a good thing it's a distance from the building because the stench was horrendous. You'd think the smell was the worst part. But, like most people, I have never given much thought to what humans did before toilet paper was invented. And now that I know, I wish I didn't.

Apparently, they used a communal sponge. On a stick. And yes, if you're wondering, I did use it. Then I was so grossed out that had to take a bath in a frigid stream. Two hours after leaving for the restroom, I am now back at the inn with a pale face and a numb butt. I'm even more tired and cranky than before.

This is the worst day I have ever experienced in my entire life. The only other day that could compare to it was when I was playing tag with my friends in 3rd grade. I ran underneath the jungle gym and didn't realize that at that exact moment, another boy was jumping down onto the ground. He jumped on top of me, knocking me to the ground and we sat there in a daze. And then I realized that my pants were down by my ankles and I was sitting there on the playground in my minnie mouse underwear. His feet must have pulled my pants down when he accidentally jumped on top of me. The whole school laughed at me while I struggled to pull my pants back up. I don't remember a time when I cried so hard in my life, hiding in the bathroom. It did end on a good note though! The little boy told his mom, who was a teacher at the school, and they came to my class to give me a soft, white teddy bear with a heart on it as an apology. Only for me to go home after school and find out that my older brother Andrew had taken my parakeet out to play with and it had flown out the window.

This day is so much worse than that day.

I shimmy out of my jeans which are covered in pony hair and sweat. I kick off my mud-covered sneakers. I growl in annoyance as I climb into the bed. I'm too tired to care if there are any medieval bedbugs, so I don't bother to check.

Maybe tomorrow the world will be normal again.

End of Chapter

So, King Argeleb II actually is a real character! I mean, as real as anyone in Middle Earth is, lol. Apparently, the Shire was run by humans before hobbits inhabited it.

I MUST clarify that in this reality; The Hobbit film by Peter Jackson doesn't exist but the Lord of the Rings movies HAVE been created by Peter Jackson. When it comes to the Hobbit, however, Peyton has only read the book and the 1977 cartoon (which is absolute crap by the way, haha!) So, if you wonder why she doesn't realize things are going to happen, it's because the cartoon and the book woefully unprepared her for the live-action version which is what this story follows. Just had to clarify that strange misconstrued part of the story. Also, even though both book and the 1977 cartoon don't have Azog as the villain, she knows that Azog is the one who kills Thorin because there was a deleted scene in the cartoon. Just roll with it, haha!

Thank you for the likes, follows, and comments! I'm having difficulty determining where to start and stop my chapters. This one is the shortest one I've done so far. However, if I had added it to the one after this one as intended, then it would have been 10,343 words and the longest chapter I've written! So, I cut it in half-ish.