Hey guys! This is the last fun filler chapter before things get full of drama and serious again. I just can't let these two characters be happy, can I? I love me some drama! Also, thank you to everyone who has made it this far with me! I'm certainly not the best writer, but you guys are the best audience! (Just stop posting as a guest so I can actually respond to you! Lol!)

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"Fear and Courage are not opposites but rather compliment one another. The only way to obtain courage is to first obtain fear. A fearless person cannot be courageous because they are actually a fool." -Casilyn Silva

~Chapter 21~

Summer Days

What am I going to do about Azog?

My muddy boots crunch along the stones and lush shrubbery, the rhythm of my steps matching the rhythm of my worried thoughts. I briefly look up at some of the dwarves chatting ahead of me, their backs hunched under the weight of their packs. We've been walking for what feels like forever, and I can't help but hope that we've somehow managed to catch up to the original timeline. My feet, hardened and tired, certainly seem to think so.

Balin, however, isn't as optimistic. He's already warned us about the Misty Mountains, about the month-long uphill climb that awaits us. And then there's Mirkwood, another half a month of travel. And then half a month more. And then... I shake my head, trying to clear it of these daunting thoughts.

What Balin doesn't know is there's a 'planned but unplanned' shortcut we'll be taking under the mountain, plus a flight on 'Eagle Airlines' to Mirkwood. I also hope that if I cooperate with the Elf King it will help us avoid being trapped in the dungeons for a few weeks. Plus, floating down the river in barrels is a lot faster faster than traveling with ponies. Hopefully it'll be enough to get there in time. It's got to be!

Gandalf has disappeared again. He said he was going to scout ahead, and thankfully disaster hasn't struck while he's been gone. That was two days ago, though, and I'm getting more and more worried while he's away.

At least he knows about the Goblins though, I think to myself as I peer upwards at the sunny blue sky. As long as he's available to save us from that then we should be fine. I hope.

In the distance, the tips of the Misty Mountains loom ominously. I can almost see the goblins waiting for us, ready to pounce the moment we set up camp. I can't blame them, really. I wouldn't be too thrilled about hobos camping out on my front porch either.

But I wouldn't kidnap hobos, so my sympathy can only go so far.

I shake my head again, forcing myself to focus. My heart is heavy with the weight of what is to come and the role I play in all of it. The Valar should have sent me with a machine gun, not strawberry tictacs!

Knowing that things can change is a tough reality to face. And change can bring disaster, a lesson learned from the Moon Runes and the Nori's electrocuted heart. I can't help but wonder; if I mess this up, will the Valar just rewind time and send someone else in my place? A scary thought crosses my mind - am I the first one they've sent on this mission, or just one in a long line of failures? After all, in my world, this story is already written. Time, it seems, isn't a straight line but a twisted maze.

My mind is spinning with crazy possibilities, and I know I'm just tired and should relax before I get too worked up. But sleeping just opens up another can of worms since the Necromancer is waiting at the edges of my sleep. Each night with him has frayed at my nerves a little more every time.

No! Focus on one thing at a time. I can do this. I have to do this! Failure is not an option.

But the thoughts keep coming, eating away at my sanity. Everything feels so fragile, like a house of cards ready to fall at the slightest wrong move. The pressure of making decisions, the uncertainty of what will happen, it's all too much!

A metallic CLANG! slices through the chaos of my thoughts, halting them in their tracks. My boot, thick and worn, has collided with something half hidden in the earth. I stop, curiosity piqued, and bend down to unbury the object. It's round, metallic, and covered in a layer of dirt. I brush it off with my fingers, revealing a smooth surface. It reminds me of a metal frisbee, or perhaps a really ineffective mirror?

"Oh lookie here! You found a plate!" Bofur's voice breaks my contemplation as he comes up beside me.

I turn the object over in my hands, studying its lightness and the smooth, worn edges. "A plate?" I echo, surprised.

Bofur's eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. "You mean ya never seen a metal plate before?"

"Yeah, a couple times." I shrug, "Mostly porclain plates or wooden plates. But in my world, we usually use plastic, glass, or ceramic plates. We even have paper ones!"

He gaffs, moustache bouncing, "Paper plates sound useless. The food'll fall right though!"

I chuckle, "It's a different kind of paper than writing paper."

An idea sparks in my mind. I look up, a grin spreading across my face. "Hey! Fili!" I call out to him. He's currently deep in conversation with Thorin, up towards the front of the company.

Fili glances over, along with Thorin and a few other dwarves. Remembering his impressive plate and cup bouncing techniques back in BagEnd, I go with my initial impression of the plate being a frisbee. "Catch!" I shout, spinning the metal plate towards him through the air.

Fili catches it effortlessly, as if he's simply plucking an apple from a tree. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he looks from the plate to me.

"To me!" I gesture, indicating that I want him to throw it back.

Fili cocks his head, curiosity lighting his eyes, and flicks the plate back toward me. It sails through the air, and I reach out to catch it.

"Woah!" I exclaim, shaking my hand from the slight sting of his throw, "That was amazing!"

Fili smirks, and I try tossing it back at him. But Kili intercepts it, snatching it from the air before Fili can reach it. We both laugh at Fili's dismayed expression, as Kili tosses it back to me.

I turn to Bofur, who's laughing at the spectacle, "Go long!" His eyes light up and he starts running, clutching his hat to his head. I throw the frisbee hard, but my aim is off.

"Nooooooo!" I groan as it veers off course. Too far right!

The company erupts in chuckles at my terrible aim, but Nori compensates for it and manages to catch it.

Soon, the metal plate is flying all over, soaring and floating gently between the dwarves as they all join in the game. I'm really, REALLY bad at it though. It's always going too far right! The frisbee finally finds its way back to me, gleaming silver in the light of the setting sun. We'll be making camp sooner than usual tonight.

My gaze instinctively seeks out Thorin, as if pulled by an invisible string. He's majestically aloof, as usual, leaning against a tree. Pipe in hand, he's a silent observer to our game. His smoky blue gaze is fixed on me.

What a spoilsport!

Raising my voice, I call out to him, "C'mon Thorin! This is a team-building exercise. That means all team members gotta join in. No exceptions." I beckon him with the frisbee, a clear invitation.

"I'm quite comfortable here, Peyton." His voice is a low throaty rumble, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Carry on."

Undeterred, I try a different approach. "It's a training exercise!" I insist, "You're supposed to show us 'how it's done'!"

"I'll leave this particular 'training' in your capable hands." He replies drolly, a playful commentary on my less-than-stellar throwing skills.

"You're no fun!"

His only response is a puff of smoke from his pipe.

Time to insult him. "Poor Thorin. If you're tired, you can admit it." I tease, my smile a mix of sympathy and mischief. "Too old to catch a frisbee. I understand. It'll happen to all of us someday." I notice Balin and Dwalin also not joining in so I add, my tone dripping with faux sadnessm, "I didn't see Balin throwing dishes at Bilbo's house either, just bouncing them. Such a shame."

"Easy now, lass." Balin glares, a playful sparkle in his eyes. "I may be old but I ain't dead."

My words have the intended affect, however, as Thorin's brow furrows with a hint of annoyance, "I can catch it just fine. I simply choose not to partake in such childish antics."

I respond with a playful imitation of a chicken, my arms flapping at my sides, "Bawk, bawk, bawk!"

Thorin's brow furrows deeper in confusion at my ridiculous motions.

"I'm calling you a chicken." I clarify, my voice filled with laughter as turn to the rest of the company who also look confused, "In my world, it means you're a coward."

I turn back to Thorin, a wide grin on my face as I continue. "Baaaaawk, bawk, bawk, bawk!"

Thorin shakes his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he stubbornly returns to his pipe.

Bofur sidles up to me, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Here, we call cowards 'possums'."

I pause, considering this. "That makes way more sense than calling someone a chicken, honestly. What does a possum sound like? Squeak! Squeak! Squeeeeeeak!"

Laughter ripples through the company, but I keep my focus on Thorin. "Come ON, Thorin! Don't be a possum!"

With a determined flick of my wrist, I do my best to send the frisbee hurtling towards him and surprisingly it's my best so far besides when I first threw to Fili. The directness of my aim forces him to either catch it, duck, or get hit.

He reaches out and catches it easily, his eyes narrowing at me in annoyance. For a moment, I worry that I've pushed him too far. But then he sighs through his nose, a sound of resignation rather than anger. He pushes off the tree, blue eyes boring into mine before they flicker to someone behind me.

"Bofur, to you," he grumbles, his voice carrying a hint of reluctant participation.

He sends it sailing with a sharp flick of his wrist. My eyes widen and my mouth drops open with a gasp. The plate cuts through the air with the ease of a hot knife through butter, its trajectory to Bofur as straight and sure as if it were one of Kili's arrow. Flawless as a lazer beam. Bofur catches it with a laugh, and Thorin's nephews both cheer as the company members start running to further places amongst the field.

Thorin jogs past me, dark wavy hair cascading down his back. He gives a pleased smirk at the slack jawed, wide-eyed expression I'm currently wearing. I snap my mouth closed, my heart stuttering in my chest like a wild drum.

He's good at everything isn't he. Is there anything he CAN'T do? I gulp, shaking my head to rid myself of those kinds of thoughts. I take off running to a position as well, my tired legs momentarily forgotten by the novelty of Thorin joining in ANY sort of entertainment.

But the game intensifies as Balin and Dwalin also suddenly decide to join in. Their competitive spirits seem to almost ignite as if their King had called them to battle rather than a simple game.

Dwalin and Thorin dominate the field, their throws powerful and precise. The 'frisbee' whizzes through the air, a deadly projectile that has me questioning my decision to goad them to play.

The dwarves revel in the chaos though, their catcalls and huffs of merriment ringing out as they tackle each other for the coveted plate. For Bilbo and I, the game becomes a test of survival. The 'frisbee' transforms into a weapon, threatening to bruise both skin and egos.

This really did become a training exercise, I think with annoyance as I rub my stinging palm. I mistakenly had tried to catch the flying plate after a firm throw from Balin of all dwarves.

"My apologies, lass. I didn't mean to harm you." Balin says sincerely.

I huff a laugh, "Remind me to never underestimate you again, Balin." He's stronger than he looks.

He gives me a smug smile and a little wink.

Despite the chaos, the company is having fun. Thorin and Gloin and Bifur, who are all usually the epitome of stoicism, are caught up in competitive banter. Their laughter, a rare and precious sound, fills the air, as they roughhouse with each other to grab the frisbee first, adding to the joyous atmosphere.

A warm feeling blossoms in my chest, spreading through my veins like a comforting balm. I step back, taking a moment to soak in the scene. The company...my company... is laughing and enjoying themselves because of me! I brought a little light into their story!

"Peyton!"

Bofur's voice pulls me back into the game, and I look to where he stands, now holding the frisbee that Gloin had thrown him. He shoots me an understanding smile at my inability to catch the fast projectile. He raises the frisbee in a silent invitation before GENTLY tossing it so I can actually catch it this time! Awww, buddy!

My excitement flares up as it floats towards me, only to be extinguished as Kili swoops in, snatching the 'frisbee' from the air right in front of me.

"Damn it, Kili!" I yell, my frustration fueling my tired legs as I hear Fili and the others laugh. Kili lets out an excited yipe as I run after him, quickly sending the 'frisbee' flying before I can reach him. I tackle him anyway, my annoyed growl punctuated by my swats at him, "You...little...thief!"

His laughter rings out as I playfully smack him anywhere I can reach him, his arms instinctively raised in a futile attempt to shield himself from my pathetically soft hits. "I'm sorry! I couldn't help it! You should have seen your face!" He mimics my expression, his face lighting up with joy before falling into mock disappointment. We both rise, our laughter mingling with the sounds of the game.

The company's game had slowed, their attention drawn to the spectacle of Kili and me. Their chuckles and head shakes create a background chorus of amusement at our antics. All except for Thorin, who stands apart, his brow furrowed as he watches us with a strangely stern look.

I meet his gaze, my eyebrows arching in a silent question. A wide grin spreads across my face, a challenge and an invitation all in one.

His stern expression softens, his features back into his normal aloof demeanor. With a wave of his hand, he signals to the company. "Alright, let's set up camp," he commands, his voice gruff.

A collective groan ripples through the company, mirroring my own disappointment. But at least we can stop a little bit early tonight. We trudge back to our supplies and packs we had set down, the dwarves clapping each other's backs as they chuckle and tease about the game. I can't help but wonder what has brought back his stern demeanor. Could it be the sight of me playfully hitting his beloved nephew? Is he being overly protective? He knows my playful smacks are not strong enough to hurt him even if I wanted to, right?

I tuck the 'frisbee' plate into my pack, a hopeful promise of future games. Perhaps we'll have another chance once we reach Beorn's house?

But as quickly as the joy had come and distracted me for a good hour, it dissipates, replaced by a familiar sense of dread. The thought of Goblin town looms over me like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over my mood. I swallow hard, my thoughts of changing the future come back to me and I glance over at the company, my heart heavy with worry once more. They'll all be ok. They have to be.

I'm REALLY not looking forward to these next few days….

"1 plus 1 = 3 if you don't wear a condom?", Kili's voice is slow and deliberate as he reads the cryptic message on my tee-shirt. His brow furrows in confusion, his gaze never leaving the bold print.

Caught off guard, I freeze mid-action, my hand hovering over the supplies Bombur and I had used to prepare for dinner. My heart pounds in my chest, feeling like a wild deer caught in the blinding headlights of an oncoming truck.

Fili joins his brother, his eyes narrowing as he studies the puzzling phrase as well. His head tilts to the side, a silent question hanging in the air.

Earlier today, while crossing a muddy gorge, Gandalf finally showed back up. I had been so happy to see him that I had been a little careless in my footing and the mud had claimed my usual traveling shirt as its victim. Now, with my shirt washed and hung up to dry, I had opted for the only tee-shirt that I haven't worn since my first week in Middle Earth. The warm night seemed like the perfect excuse to wear something light and the musty smell on my shirt stood as a testament to its long confinement at the bottom of my pack.

Bilbo had seen my unorthodox shirt since it was the only shirt I owned until he bought me hobbit clothes. Even HE, "the Riddle Master", had been unable to decipher the meaning. He had suggested that the people of Michel Delving had more likely been shocked by the sight of a strange woman with cow manure on her face than a cryptic message on my shirt. I had assumed the same would be true for the company. Clearly, I had underestimated Kili and Fili's curiosity.

I wave off their questions with a chuckle, a feeble attempt to divert their attention. "Nope. Sorry boys. That's just one of those mysteries from my world that you're never going to learn about."

That's a whole lot of 'nope'!

Fili's voice is low, directing his words to his brother even while his gaze remains on me. "She seems embarrassed about it."

Kili's eyes narrow, his thoughtful expression replaced by a devious grin. "Aye, she does, brother. Why might that be?"

I roll my eyes, struggling to suppress my laughter.

"Perhaps it is something inappropriate?" Fili muses, his mischevious grin matching his brother's.

My laughter dies in my throat, replaced by a sense of dread. I wave my hands frantically, desperate to end their speculation. "NO! Stop! Stop trying to guess it. I'm not having this conversation with the two of you." I turn back to my pack, putting the food inside and hoping that will be the end of it.

Nope, nope, and double-nope!

Kili's voice is filled with amusement, his words a playful challenge. "She doesn't want to have this conversation with us, Fili….so it MUST be something inappropriate."

Fili huffs, and I can hear the smugness in his voice, "I knew it."

I sigh, turning back to face them with a resigned expression. "Ok, guys. If you can guess the riddle, I'll tell you what it all means. BUT! You can't tell your uncle." I turn back to my task, my heart pounding in my chest. They'll never guess. As much as I love them, I can't say I consider them to be the cleverest of individuals. Talented? Sure! But they'd probably be more like highschool sport stars in my world than intellectuals.

"Interesting that it's our uncle that you don't want hearing about it," Fili muses, arms crossing sternly over his chest. His eyes dance with a triumphant gleam, his lips quirked in a smile that's far too smug for my liking.

I look back at him like he's dumb for not getting it, even though I'm secretly panicking inside, "Uh, yeah? Have you met your uncle? King of Dwarves? Intimidating glower? Not to mention the scariest one in the entire company besides Dwalin when he wants to be? Seriously, he'd probably throw me to the wargs if he found out what I was teaching you kids!"

Fili's grin widens, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "He would never. He's quite fond of you, actually."

My movements falter, my breath hitching in my throat, "What? Really?"

Fond? How fond? Like, friends or...? My traitorous heart beats fast.

Kili nods, his expression serious. "He even said that if you weren't a human, he'd have proposed by now."

My jaw drops, my mind struggling to process his words. "WHAT?!" I shriek, my voice carrying farther than I intend to.

Their laughter fills the air, breaking the act as their bodies shake with mirth. Kili's face is a bright shade of red, his breath coming out in short gasps as tendrils of his dark hair fall into his face. Fili claps him on the back, his own deafening laughter adds to the cacophony.

I stand there, my face burning with embarrassment. I had walked right into that one.

I take a deep breath, forcing a casual smile onto my face as my mind races with thoughts of revenge. If they keep this up, they won't need protection from Azog. I'll end the line of Durin myself!

"I meant 'what?!' as in, 'That's absurd!'. But, anyways, you're not going to get the riddle." I wave them away, trying to play it cool with an eye roll at their immature prank as my heart still beats frantically. I breathe deeply to try and regain control of the situation.

Kili cocks his head and gives me a breathtaking smile that reminds me of his uncle. He narrows his eyes and his words become a low murmur as he tries to work through the riddle out loud, "1 plus 1 = 3…. hmmm. And it's inappropriate? Hmm. Without a condom? I feel like the condom bit is the key to this riddle, but I've never heard of a condom before."

I cover my ears childishly so I can stop hearing him say the word 'condom' over and over again. "Nope! I can't hear you! We're not having this conversation! La, la, la!-"

"A child?"

Bilbo's voice cuts through the air, his words a quiet revelation. All three of us turn to look at Bilbo who is sitting on a log nearby, listening. I gape at him, my eyes wide with shock. I hadn't even noticed he was there! He's so quiet when he wants to be.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Bilbo looks both enthusiastic and chagrined, "Kili and Fili guessed that it was inappropriate, meaning it has something to do with…erm...well, anyway, it made me realize that one person plus another person would make a child."

I blush and sputter as they watch my face like sharks looking for blood.

Kili and Fili's cheers fill the air and they offer their congratulations to Bilbo. Some of the others in the company look over, curious about what we're all so keyed up about. Bilbo looks pleased, his cheeks flushed with pleasure at this response from them. This is the first time since the troll incident that they've treated him with respect.

I should have known better than to underestimate Bilbo. He's a freaking genius when it comes to riddles. It was only a matter of time until he got it. Or maybe not, since it was only thanks to Fili and Kili that he realized it was inappropriate. I'm going to kill Lizzy for getting me this ridiculous shirt!

"Although, I still don't understand the condom bit." Bilbo shrugs, looking to me for clarification.

"Yeah, well, I'm not telling you what a condom is, so you can get over it." I turn my red face back to my pack.

"What?! But we won the riddle!" Fili protests, now upset. "You have to keep your word and tell us!"

"No, BILBO won the riddle. And I didn't make that deal with him."

"Peyton, you can't be an oath breaker! That's one of the most abominable things known to Dwarven-kind." Kili reminds me, his voice serious.

"I know it is, and I didn't break an oath!" I snap, my patience wearing thin. "I said I would tell you if you guessed it. You didn't."

"Then tell Bilbo!" Filio indicates towards a wide-eyed Bilbo, still sitting on the log.

I shake my head, "He doesn't want to know." He probably does, but I don't care.

Bilbo gives me an innocent expression, "Actually, I'm rather now curious-"

"TRUST ME, BILBO!" I interrupt loudly to stop his sentence, internally freaking out. I level him with my sternest glare, and whisper in a deadly hiss, "You don't... want...to KNOW!"

He balks as he takes in my adament expression, looking at the dwarves and then back at me, clearly wrestling within himself on whether curiosity really will kill the cat in this scenario. Read the room, Bilbo!

I continue speaking, "And I didn't make the oath with you. I didn't even make an oath with anyone!" I throw my hands in the air, my patience wearing thin.

Kili's voice is filled with disappointment, his words a plea. "But you said you would! Your word is your bond! You must keep your word, Pey!"

I walk away muttering, "Yeah, well, remind your uncle about that fact when he makes a deal with the men in Laketown." I hope that will be the end of it. The boys have a short attention span. If I ignore the chorus of protests and pleas I can hear behind me (AND get rid of the shirt) then it's highly likely they will soon forget all about it.

Glancing back, I see Fili and Kili shaking Bilbo's shoulder and bribing him with coins to get the answer from me. I walk faster, briefly looking around to see if there's a cliff nearby that I can throw myself off of.

Nope. Just the flatlands, stretching out as far as the eye can see with patches of forest. The Misty Mountains loom in the distance, closer than ever before, their towering peaks a reminder of the journey ahead. Another day and we'll be at their base. Already, our path is on a slight incline as the ground begins to push up.

Unfortunately, Thorin is on my path of finding the nonexistent cliff. His looks up towards me, as if sensing my distress from where he is sitting with Dori, talking.

At the unspoken question in his gaze, I heave a sigh and pause instead of passing him by, "Your nephews. How do you deal with them?"

His lips quirk slightly, his voice laced with dry humor, "With a lot of patience, I assure you."

"Tell them that if they don't leave me alone, I will not be held responsible for my actions." I huff, shaking my head in frustrated amusement. "I'll draw all over their faces and I'll braid their hair together in the middle of their sleep or something."

Thorin's eyebrows arch in surprise, his eyes widening. A swift exchange of glances with Dori, who also looks scandalized, then he turns back to me, "You are unfamiliar with Dwarven hair customs, aren't you." He doesn't say it like a question.

Curiosity piqued, I can't help myself and come close, "No, I'm not. Can you tell me more about it?"

Dori interjects before Thorin can respond, his voice swelling with pride, "Hair braiding is a very symbolic act. It is in all of our rituals and ceremonies. There are braids for everything. Braids for brave acts of courage, for shameful acts, for courtship, for weddings...even braids for mourning and funerals. There are many methods of braiding and many ways to style them."

I nod, thinking of the unique braids worn by each member of the company. I always thought is was simply a fashion choice.

"What does a star shaped hairstyle mean?" I ask, referring to Nori's unique look.

Dori scoffs disapprovingly, "It means, Peyton, that he got in with the wrong crowd and all his mates back at home wear their hair in similarly strange patterns. He has a rebellious streak for the past 50 or so years that I'm hoping he will outgrow out of."

I can't help but smirk at the scolding tone in Dori's voice, like a parent about a wayward child. So, would Nori's hair be the equivalent of a dyed orange and red mohawk in my world then?

"What does a single braid mean?" I sit down besides Thorin on the log, pulling my thick blonde braid to the front of my shoulder. I've begun to braid my hair every day now, mostly to keep my hair from tangling in horrid knots from the humidity, but also to feel like one of the bros. The dwarves haven't said anything about it, except amused and approving looks.

Dori's face is a mix of amusement and consternation, "It signifies independence and audacity."

I chuckle, "Is that all? I thought it meant 'she's too lazy to braid her hair more intricately'."

Thorin's eyes sparkle as he answers dryly, "That too."

I laugh, and the three of us sit there, turning to watch the company for a quiet, companionable moment. I notice with trepidation that Kili, Fili, Nori, Bofur, and Bifur are all standing by Bilbo now.

Dori appears to notice something and suddenly stands, coughing awkwardly and Thorin and I look over at him curiously, "I should, uh, check on Ori. See if he needs anything. Might need his quill sharpened."

"Uh, ok?" My brow furrows in confusion as I glance over to Ori across camp. He's sitting next to Bilbo, listening to the others and scribbling furiously at his book.

I watch with narrowed eyes as Dori strides towards the group, gives Ori a pat on the back and then becomes engrossed in the conversation. They better not be talking about my shirt.

Oh, yeah, I was looking for a cliff wasn't I?

Turning to Thorin, I realize that he and I are sitting here alone. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but Fili's and Kili's embarrassing joke about Thorin proposing comes back to my mind. I blush and look towards the Misty Mountains so no-one will see. Somehow, they found out about my feelings for Thorin, but do the others know? DoesThorin know? Sure, he knows that I consider him 'young and handsome', but it hadn't been a declaration of feelings by any means. It was just an observation!

Surprisingly, it is Thorin who breaks the silence, his voice a soothing rumble, "And what of your nephews?"

I blink, surprised. "My nephews?"

He nods. "Aye. Are they as challenging as mine?"

I shrug, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, "Well, I have three of them. Jackson, Wyatt, and Caleb. So, yes and no? I guess? They're a handful, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm the cool aunt who isn't afraid to make mud pies or play in the sprinkler."

His eyes, a deep ocean blue, turn back to the company, suddenly distant. His low voice almost sounds resigned as he murmurs, "They must miss you terribly."

A pang of guilt hits me, causing me to wilt. I nod, my voice trapped in my throat. The truth is, I haven't thought of them much since Rivendell.

"Yeah, I mean...they probably do," I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

The thrill of the journey, the camaraderie between all of us, the laughter and fun, it's all been a welcome distraction. Especially the warmth I feel in my chest, sitting next to Thorin like this.

And that worries me. Leaving has gotten more complicated. These people, this world, has dug itself into my heart like a worm in an apple, leaving me permanently changed and riddled with a peculiar emptiness at the thought of leaving.

His next question is gentle, cautious, as if he's afraid of crossing a line. "Have you still been dreaming of them, then?"

I shake my head, my gaze dropping to my hands in my lap, "No." The dreams of the Necromancer used to be preceded by my family, but since Rivendell it's only been him. The chilling image of the castle looming sends a shiver down my spine. I wrap my arms around myself, the wind picking up around us. I keep that information to myself, unable but to feel a sense of foreboding, an irrational fear that speaking of the dream might somehow make it real.

I try to shrug, pushing away the melancholy and forcing false cheer into my voice, "I was joking earlier. Sort of. Your nephews aren't all that bad. I mean, my nieces can be more of a handful than them actually! I have five nieces, and three nephews. All of them precious. It makes me excited to have my own some day."

I glance over at him and notice that his blue eyes are again focused on me.

"What about you? Are Kili and Fili practice?" I ask, joking but also wanting know if Thorin Oakenshield ever dreams of children of his own.

"I don't believe I will ever have children." Thorin replies gruffly after a few moment, "So, I consider Kili and Fili as mine."

"Well, who knows!" I smile at him, trying to sound positive even though the words feel like ashes in my mouth, "You believe in a One, right? Maybe you'll meet her after all the dwarves return to Erebor?"

Thorin smiles, but it's unlike any that I've seen him wear this far. It could almost be described as bitter, "I have had the opportunity to travel to the seven dwarf kingdoms many times. And Dis has seen to it that I've been introduced to every dwarrow dam that Middle Earth has to offer."

"And?" I ask when he grows silent once more.

"Fili will be a good king." His voice sounds firm, obviously wanting me to drop the subject.

I feel nervous that I've upset him for some reason. "Yeah, he will." I look over at Fili, hating the strange energy surrounding Thorin and I at that moment. "If I don't push him off a cliff first." I shrug and shoot Thorin a grin to let him know I'm joking.

His eyes flicker down to my chest, regarding my shirt curiously, reading the riddle. I give him a look and try to cover it with my arms but he's either a very fast reader or he's already read it before without me noticing. My heart beats fast and I feel strange with that idea.

His blue eyes look back up at mine, arresting me with his gaze, "What does your shirt mean?"

Nope! I return to be embarrassed. I shake my head, "Probably the same thing as braiding Kili and Fili's hair together means. You don't want to know."

Thorin's eyes widen and his eyebrows raise up. I shrug and give him an embarrassed laugh. "It was a gift from my best friend when I went to nursing school." I shake my head at Lizzy's craziness. "I'm kind of a math geek...uh, a person who's really good at calculating things. And because I'm me, she thought it'd be funny to haze me a little. Hence the shirt. Just my luck that I'd be transported to another realm while wearing such a ridiculous thing."

"What if I do want to know?" Thorin asks after a minute.

I turn to look at Thorin with wide-eyes. His gaze is casually intent on my face. I blush, and roll my eyes with a laugh, "Yeaaah, no. I'm already considered an oath-breaker with your nephews. I better not make the same deal with you."

"What deal?"

"I told them if they figured out part of the riddle I would tell them the rest of it. But they didn't, Bilbo did. So I'm refusing to tell them what it means."

"The hobbit guessed the riddle?" Thorin's voice is laced with disbelief, his eyes darting over to Bilbo who is now the center of attention and surrounded by more dwarves such as Balin, Gloin, and Oin. He seems to be in the middle of an explanation to all of them, his hands gesturing in a helpless shrug, face flushed with embarressment.

"He's pretty amazing when it comes to riddles," I narrow my eyes at the group of them, guessing what he's explaining to them. But, then again, he's had Fili and Kili's help after a good 5-6 months to think about it.

Wow. Has it really been that long ago that I arrived on his front porch asking if I could have a place to stay?

Thorin has kept Bilbo at a distance this entire time and I know it has influenced the others' treatment of him. If I can help Thorin see Bilbo's potential, the rest of the company will follow suit.

"Bilbo is quite remarkable," I venture, hoping to somehow bridge the gap between them. "Most generous guy I know, honestly. I might have starved and been living on the streets until the company showed up if it wasn't for him. You two could become really great friends, if you tried."

Thorin is silent for a moment, eyes still focused on the company surrounding Bilbo.

"I'll take that into consideration." he finally rumbles, but I can hear the dubious tone in his low voice. As if he doesn't think it's possible to be friends with a grocer.

Oh well. He'll come around eventually.

The announcement of dinner from Bombur diverts everyone's attention. The dwarves abandon their huddle around Bilbo and gather around the fire. Before I can get up to grab a bowl, Bombur approaches us, a bowl of stew in each hand, his face beaming. "Stay put, you two. Enjoy your seats," he says, handing us the bowls.

"Thank you, Bombur!" I blink in surprise, touched by his thoughtfulness. Thorin nods in gratitude, murmuring his thanks as well.

I take a sip of my hot stew.

"Hey, Pey! Why don't you sing us a song you've created?" Bofur calls over from where he and Nori are sitting.

"Songs I've created?" I give him a confused smile, "Uh, I've never created any songs?"

Bofur looks taken aback, sharing an amazed glance with Nori, "Yer joking! Ye really mean to say that you've never thought up a song before? Ever?!"

I shake my head "No, never! Well, I mean, maybe when I was a kid? But just silly songs that I don't remember. I'm good at memorizing songs and I'm a wizard on the piano…..but that's it. I don't have a creative bone in my body!"

"That's a load o' rubbish." Dwalin speaks up, and I turn to him, surprised that HE would have anything to say about singing songs. He has been sitting on a rock off to the side, as Thorin and I talked, not saying anything until now. "To create is something all livin things possess. Even those stupid trolls 'ave creative moments. LIFE creates."

I give him an appraising look, "Wow, Dwalin. That was deep. Did you just make that up?"

"No." he says simply, "But, it's the truth. Life creates."

Bofur slaps his knee lightly, coming to a resolution about something, "Well, lads, it seems there's nothin for it." His voice is as solemn as I've ever heard him, but his eyes twinkle with mischief as he looks back at me, "Seems that Peyton 'ere will 'ave to make up a song for us."

I laugh at his joke, "Make up a song? Out of thin air like you guys do? Ha! That's a good one Bofur." I shake my head.

"No, no, he's got it right Pey." Kili says, his eyes earnest and also full of mischief. "You're going to have to make up a song for us! That'll get your creative fire sparking!"

"We'll help you." Fili smiles excitedly.

My smile drops. Something is fishy about all of this. They can't be serious.

"Sing a song about adventure!" Dori suggests.

"No. Sing us a love song!" Nori smirks.

I roll my eyes and send an unimpressed look his way. I pointedly do NOT look at Thorin. I have the itching suspicion that Nori is the one that has been talking to Kili and Fili. But why would he betray me like that? I saved his life, after all.

My heart starts to stutter in my chest as my anxiety begins to grow, "But….I'm not a dwarf! How would I even start?! And where would the melody come from? What if the notes clash or...or don't blend well? I can't do that! I've never done that!"

Gloin's voice cuts through the group's chatter, his words a challenge, "It comes with practice, lass. Sometimes, ye 'ave to start, and the notes, they'll find their own way."

I gape at him in betrayal. Et tu Gloin?

"You 'ave to sing about what you're doin in the moment! What you're feelin in the moment!" Bofur encourages with a smile.

"Or you can sing about your dreams, Pey," Ori suggests sweetly. "What you hope will happen!"

Little Ori too?!

"You have to look within your heart. Find the words that echo your emotions." Bombur gently adds with a smile.

Wow, they're serious. My face scrunches in confused disbelief. This is going to be a disaster!

"Can't I just sing a song I already know?" I plead.

"No!" They ALL say at the same time, some laughing and some deadpan, but all of them serious.

"Go on," Thorin rumbles at my side and I look at him in surprise. He folds his arms across his chest and gives an amused look, "Regale us with your emotion."

I narrow my eyes at him in a mock glare. Well, I'm not singing about my feelings for him, that's for darn sure!

I cover my face before loudly groaning and looking up at the sky, hoping that maybe the Valar will deliver me.

They don't. They hate me.

Feeling ganged up by all the dwarves with not one word of help from a grinning Gandalf or Bilbo, I give in, "Ugh, I'm going to feel so STUPID doing this! But I'm NOT going to sing about emotions. I'll take Dori's advice and sing about adventure."

"What?! Why"?" Bofur scoffs, "Are ye a possum?"

Yep. I'm a possum. 100%

I wave my hand, "No! It's because then I'll start singing about how much I love you all, and how you've all changed my life forever, and how much I'm going to miss everyone when I go back home. Then I'll start crying like a baby, which will make everyone uncomfortable and that'll just ruin the evening!"

Everything is silent, the dwarves giving me shocked and tender expressions. I basically admitted that, yes, I do care for them very much. And that going home will, in fact, be hard for me. Honestly, I'm surprised that THEY'RE surprised. Have I not demonstrated over and over again how much they mean to me?

But Thorin's words from when I apologized the first time come back to me. I'm the first human to ever try and make amends for an unkind word to him. Maybe it's the same for the others? Why do humans and dwarves not get along, I wonder.

I continue to babble, trying to fill the silence and ease my embarrassment, "Fun fact! Did you know that when a female cries, it actually lowers the testoserone of every male around her? Oh, uh, testosterone is a hormo-.…uh, chemical produced by the body, that gives males their physical characteristics! Anyways, that's why it's so uncomfortable for guys to see a woman cry! Without testosterone, it makes them feel more unmanly and a little helpless. I wonder if it's one of the reasons humans developed the ability to cry, honestly? I don't know if it works on Dwarves but I don't want to test that theory, do you? And-"

"Alright, lass." Dwalin inturrupts, although he appears less stern than normal. "Enough talk. Just sing about adventure."

I gulp, "I…uh, okay. H-here it goes…"

Clearing my throat, I frantically try to think about what to sing. I need to sing about what I'm doing right now? What am I doing right now?

"Uh….I'm on a journey? And I'm…walking? Um...along?"

This is so stupid. I try and find something that rhymes with 'along'.

"I'm with my friends…and I sing this song!"

This whole thing reminds me of that one scene in the movie 'Elf' when Buddy made up a song to sing to his dad that was horribly off tune. Or, like when Nacho Libre had to make up a song to sing to Ramses when he snuck into his party.

I'm trying to make up a bouncy tune in my head, but I sound like a little kid who is making up a song while they play with their dolls or something.

"Uhhhh, I don't know how to sing….and I...and...you're crazy for making me do this thing! "

I abruptly turn to Thorin and beg for mercy, "Can I stop now? You can see how bad I am at this!"

But Dwalin answers for him, "Keep going, Lass. Pick a rhythm and keep to it."

"I'm going to try extra hard to stab you with a knife tomorrow," I mutter darkly to myself, causing Dwalin to smirk and the others to guaff.

I scramble, trying to find a good tune and rhythm, "A bunch of dwarves, a hobbit too, uhhh….and sometimes Gandalf, when he's in the mood!"

Gandalf's laughter is a silent tremor, his mouth tightly shut. The dwarves' smiles are encouraging, though, "Ummm, on our way…to Erebor….to find the hidden, magic door….uh, On Durin's day, when the light is gone….and when we think that it's all gone wrong….the moon will come out…and then we'll see, the hidden door that needs the key! The battles rages, the ravens cry, with eagles flying in the sky. The dawn will break, the war will be won, the songs of feasting will be sung?"

Hopefully.

No one is smiling now, and they are all shocked and serious as they pay attention to my 'seer' words rather than the atrocious tune I'm making up. I blush and stutter, unable to continue, "I, uh, um…I'm…I'm not much good at this singing, as I'm sure you will all agree…..But it's been fun, and now I'm done, so please just leave me be!"

It breaks the spell and the dwarves all shake their heads and laugh, but Bofur cheers (for friendship, obviously) and the other dwarves join in and clap as well.

I laugh, feeling completely absurd and foolish. I know I don't have a bad singing voice. But do I have the ability to create catchy tunes? That's a resounding NO.

Groaning, I cover my face with my hands, "Ugh, I hate you guys so much! I wish I could go throw myself off a cliff right now but there aren't any cliffs around!"

"No, you love us! You already admitted it!" Fili laughs.

I laugh and roll my eyes at him, "Yeah, well, my love isn't going to stop me from bopping you on the head with a hammer if you don't behave!"

"It was your first time, Lass." Dwalin shrugs, "You're going to sound like a child the first few times."

I frantically shake my head, "Oh, no, no, no! No, I will not be doing that again!"

He merely raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say 'Yeah, you will.'

I need to get the company's attention off of me and so I turn to an unassuming Bilbo, "Your turn Bilbo!"

"Wha- ME?" Bilbo shakes his head emphatically., "Oh no. No, no, I'm-I'm not a composer." He gives a bashful half-laugh which turns into fear as I walk towards him with an evil smile. His eyes widen and he shakes his head, "I'm fond of a good, simple pub song myself!"

"Oh no, you don't!" I grab him by the arm and try to haul him up, but he puts up a good fight and his other arm grabs a branch sticking up from the log he's on. I grunt, pulling at the little bugger with all my might, "If I have to sing a dumb made-up song, then you... do...too!"

"Can't I just sing a pub song?" Bilbo pleads, desperately holding onto the branch with all his scrawny might while I pull on his other arm. Gandalf just watches on with an amused smirk, lips on his pipe.

"No!" I grunt.

"Please?" he begs.

"No!"

"PLEASE?"

"No!", "Yes." Thorin says at the same time as me.

I stop pulling on Bilbo's arm and look over at the Dwarf King in betrayal.

"One made-up song by a non-dwarf is enough for one night. I don't think my ears could take another." His expression is dry but his blue eyes sparkle, teasing me.

I gasp in mock outrage as I let go of Bilbo's arm and begin trying to smack at Thorin's person like I had with Kili yesterday after he stole me frisbee from me. "I only sang because you made me! Don't make me commit regicide, Thorin!"

I try batting at him everywhere but Thorin blocks my pathetic smacks on his person with his ninja reflexes, his face transforming into white teeth and laughing eyes. I've never seen Thorin so…carefree? Is that the word to describe him right now?

"I'll take my chances." He chuckles as I finally stop. "Seems you need more training from Dwalin before I have cause to fear anything from you."

I huff a smile, rolling my eyes. From the corner of my vision I see some of the dwarves smirking and whispering to each other, but when I glance at them, they look back at me, innocently.

Bilbo is pleased that he is off the hook, however, and sighs in relief as he lets go of the branch he had held onto for dear life. I pout at him and he returns it with a triumphant smile. Then he turns back to the Dwarves, suddenly nervous again.

"Uhh, alright." He clears his throat, hands nervous at his sides and he begins.

"Hey! Ho! To the bottle I go.

To heal my heart and drown my woe.

Rain may fall and wind may blow,

But there still be many miles to go!"

The dwarves join in with hand clapping and feet pounding as this is a song one can dance to. I roll my eyes at him. I've hears this song before at the Green Dragon! And I think Frodo will sing it as well!

"Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain,

And the stream that fall from hill to plain.

Better than rain or rippling brook...

Is a mug of beer inside this Took!"

The dwarves cheer loudly while I protest, feeling picked on, "That's not fair! He sang a song he already knew! Of COURSE it's going to sound better than mine!"

The company ignores me as the dwarves loudly bemoan the lack of beer and ale on this trip and how much better everything would be with some beer.

I roll my eyes. It's a good thing we DON'T have any alcohol, because if we did; they'd attract every warg, orc, troll, and goblin in Middle Earth with all the ruckus. Me especially. I've proven to be a crazy drunk. I would probably start going on about Thorin's beautiful mermaid hair and try to kiss him. Nope. I learned my lesson the first and last time in ByWater. Never getting drunk again.

Bilbo is the only one who acknowledges my frown. His eyes twinkle with mirth as he quirks a smug eyebrow at me, giving a nonchalant shrug, "I merely wished not to cause you any distress about your melody, should I conjure a more agreeable tune."

I laugh in shock and throw a pebble at him, "Bilbo Baggins! It was my first and only time!" I've never seen Bilbo so cheeky before. He seems to have come out of his shell a little bit with that song.

I see Gandalf beckon to Thorin out of the corner of my eye and the two of them stand up and head towards the trees. I glance after them curiously, wondering what they could possibly have to discuss without me.

But then Kili starts mocking my song and I focus on aiming my shoe at his head, promptly forgetting about the two of them leaving.

End of Chapter

This was a fun chapter to write! Let me know if there are any errors in spelling or if it doesn't flow very well. Thorin and Peyton are sure getting close, aherm aherm! Hope you liked it! Like I said before; Rivendell was a turning point in their relationship. Let me know what your thoughts are! Do you like the banter?