Chapter Four

A Bad Beginning

Despite her exhaustion, Kate found it difficult to sleep that night. Her conversation with Mahal had dredged up every fear and apprehension she had about the quest, coming to simmer on the surface no matter how hard she tried to ignore them. It was finally happening.

After five years, the quest was truly beginning. Kate had been doubtful during her tenure living in Middle-earth, that there was no quest after all, that she was acting out some fever dream or had been knocked into a coma somehow, but her time had finally come. Thorin Oakenshield had welcomed her into his company (grudgingly, but still), and now she was to set out to help them reclaim their homeland from the dragon Smaug.

She tossed and turned well into the night, her anxiety making her twitchy, and she cursed Mahal – first for getting her into this mess to begin with when he had kidnapped her all those years ago, and second for showing up unannounced in her room and giving her the sage advice of Try not to die. Because that had been so helpful.

Kate was not a warrior; she knew how to defend herself with a sword well enough, and knew some offensive moves if she ever needed to use them, but she was no seasoned swordswoman. She knew how to heal, but only minor wounds and mild illnesses, and she had learned quickly enough that she was a shit hunter. She would be of no use in Thorin's Company besides her "foresight", but even that she was reluctant to reveal, if she even could. Mahal had made no mention of how much information she could give the Company, but would it even be smart?

"Hey, so, just a heads up, but three of you are totally fated to die at the end of this quest, but no worries! Everything is fine because I'm here, and I'm supposed to prevent that from happening!"

Yes, that would go over splendidly.

Why me? she thought miserably. Out of all the people in this world and mine, why me?

She had no answers, and since Mahal didn't come to annoy her again, she figured that that was a question that would probably never receive a response.

It was well after midnight when she decided that sleep would elude her for the rest of the night, so she got up and strapped on her boots again, securing a short dagger to her forearm and swinging on her cloak before departing her room.

She crept down the stairs and peered into the bar, but all the patrons had gone to bed and the dwarves were nowhere to be found. She was being a coward, she knew, but she wanted to put off meeting them for as long as possible for fear of what they might think of her. Were they able to change Thorin's mind about her coming on the quest? Would they resent her for imposing on their Company? Would they fear her for being some type of vessel for Mahal's decrees as she had discovered earlier that day?

Bastard, she cursed silently. The Vala hadn't mentioned anything about the dwarves being able to hear him through her tattoo, and the deceit left a bitter taste in her mouth. It only made her wonder what else the Vala had failed to tell her…

She made her way out of the front doors of the inn, pausing beneath the swinging sign that creaked faintly in the nighttime breeze. The air was sticky and humid with the tang of spring, and the dew clung to her cloak as she made her way to the stables. She heard the soft rustles and whickers of the horses put away, and their dark eyes followed her as she went to the stall where her mare was.

"Hey, Molly," she whispered, touching the nose of her chestnut horse gently and smiling. Her dark coat seemed black in the dim light of the stables, and Kate curled her fingers in the mare's inky hair, stroking it softly.

Molly had been one of her only companions in Middle-earth so far, after Kate had traveled to Rohan to purchase a new horse with the money Reyna had left her after she died. She supposed any horse would have done, but Kate had always been fascinated by the horse-lords in the south ever since reading The Lord of the Rings, so that was where she had gone.

Kate had learned to train and care for her, and eventually ride her, and they had been fast friends ever since. Whatever command Kate gave, Molly executed it willingly, and wherever Kate went, Molly would happily take her there. The horse had given a sense of purpose to Kate that she had not felt in a long time, and she enjoyed the feeling of having something besides herself to watch over again. The feeling had reminded her of Molly, the little girl in her group home that had wished upon the star, and so that was what she had named her horse.

"A strange name for a horse," she remembered Rodric saying. He had looked at her with skepticism after she had announced her mare's name proudly. "It's not very…heroic."

Kate had rolled her eyes at the young horse-lord. "It's not supposed to be. Just a plain horse for a plain girl."

He had merely raised a brow at her, but she could see the smile playing in the corner of his mouth. "Whatever the lady insists."

"I'm glad you've come to see reason." She'd then swung herself into the saddle and grinned down at him. "And I'm no lady, trust me."

And with that, she had taken off down the plains atop Molly, one of the last rides she would ever enjoy in Rohan.

Thinking of the windswept plains and hills of the horse lands sent a pang of regret through her, and she wondered if she would have a chance to visit once more before she went back to her own world. She hadn't meant to become attached to anyone after the death of Reyna, but there had been something about Rodric son of Rodhrim that had convinced her to break her rule. He had been young, around her own age at the time, entering manhood, handsome enough to break many a woman's heart, and wilder than the most untamable stallion. It was small wonder why she had taken to him, and mistakenly, she had convinced herself that women still had needs, in this world as much as the last one.

She sighed, untangling her fingers from Molly's mane and rubbing her nose one last time before kissing it and departing the stables. She wasn't planning on going back inside the inn quite yet, so instead she wandered around a bit, roaming the streets and stewing in her thoughts.

It was nearing dawn by the time she returned, sneaking quietly through the front door, but as she crossed over to the stairs a shadow in the corner stirred. Her dagger was immediately in her hand, but by the dully glowing embers leftover from last night's fire, she recognized the silhouette well enough.

"You shouldn't lurk in shadows," she said, willing her heart to calm as she sheathed her dagger.

"And you shouldn't prowl around like some thief," Thorin Oakenshield's deep voice rumbled, and she heard his own blade being sheathed. "I thought I told you to get some rest?"

She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

The dwarf made a low grumble in his throat. "It seems I am not the only one restless tonight."

"Guess not." She teetered for a moment, wondering if she should stay and chat or if it would be considered rude if she darted for her room, which is what she wanted to do. "Er, well, I'll go…get that rest now."

He said nothing, wreathed in the shadows like a sentinel sitting vigil, and Kate gave him one last look before ascending the stairs, wondering what the morning would bring for them both.

She must have dozed off sometime in the early morning hours, for when she opened her eyes again, the first watery light of dawn was coming in through her window. Yawning, she got up and set about packing her things, but after dawdling for some time, she knew she could no longer delay the inevitable. She took a deep breath and left her room.

The lounge was filled with only a few early risers, and she smiled when Anne waved to her from the bar, though her nerves made it come out more like a grimace. She went over to the counter, her belly growling when the scents of frying bacon and cooking eggs wafted over her. Anne was bent over the cooking fires, flipping the bacon with a pair of old tongs while simultaneously poking at the eggs to keep them from sticking to the pan.

"Mornin'," Anne said cheerfully when Kate approached. "Let's see if I remember: sunny side up and burnt bacon?"

"You got it." A pang went through her as she thought of how this would be the last hearty breakfast she would have in a while, but she shrugged it off; she had gone without food before, so there was no use complaining now.

"I saw you talking with some of those dwarves that whirled in yesterday," Anne said, "and that man with the pointy hat. Were they the ones you were waiting up all night for?"

"Yes, they were. And I'll be leaving with them and the rest of their Company today."

The older woman's brows raised high. "You know them?"

Kate hesitated. "Let's just say it's more of a business opportunity than anything."

"So, they hired you?"

Kate scratched her cheek awkwardly. "In a way."

Anne stared at her for a long moment, the bacon sizzling merrily in the silence before she shrugged and turned her attention back to her cooking. "You're a strange one, Kate Miller, but as I said before, you have your reasons. Here, eat up. I don't want you to start your journey on an empty gut."

She handed Kate a small tin plate filled with eggs, bacon, and toast with strawberry jam, and a mug of milk to wash it down. Anne nodded over her shoulder. "I think some of your new companions have already claimed a table for themselves. Are you going to join them?"

Kate would have liked to say no, but when she glanced behind her to check out the table, she saw with some relief that Thorin and the three others she had spoken with the day before were not there. She flashed back to her uncomfortable meeting with Thorin last night, and grimaced when she realized she would have to face him again that day. But the dwarves sitting around the table by the fire seemed to be in a merry mood, and looked the least threatening of the ones she had seen so far, so she decided to begin her introductions and hopefully gain some approval before the rest of them came down.

"I guess I don't really have a choice if I'm going to be traveling with them now." She sighed. "Wish me luck?"

"Luck is for unlucky bastards," Anne said. "You won't need it, Kate, not with a face like yours." She grinned knowingly, but Kate only managed a weak smile, somehow doubting the other woman's words. Bidding her farewell, she took her plate and made her way over to the table, her anxiety making her palms sweat.

The dwarves were too invested in their conversation to notice her at first, and she took the opportunity to study them. There were six of them sitting around the table, each with two plates of food and twice the amount of ale to wash it down. They appeared younger than Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin, and that was what finally resolved her strength to sit amongst them.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she said pleasantly, sitting down between a blond dwarf with twin mustache braids and an oddly meek-looking one with brown hair and a tiny braid of a beard. Her mug made a loud thunk on the wood when she set it down, splashing a bit of milk over the rim, and all conversation ceased when the dwarves looked at her in a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and suspicion.

"Kate Miller," she said, holding out her hand to the blond one. "I'm assuming you lot are part of Thorin's Company?"

Silence. When the blond dwarf didn't take her hand, she sighed and lowered it. "Unfortunate. I was hoping you all would be more fun than the ones I talked to yesterday."

This earned her a snort, and she looked across the table to see a dwarf with a floppy, eared hat and laugh lines around his mouth hastily taking a gulp of ale.

"You're the one, then?" The dark-haired dwarf sitting on the blond one's other side studied her carefully as if he could pick the answers he sought from beneath her flesh. He was attractive, she noted, with a fine face and only dark stubble brushing his jaw and chin. He oddly reminded her of Thorin, though she couldn't say how or why. "Thorin said there was to be a miller's daughter to join our Company at Gandalf's behest."

So, now I'm a miller's daughter?

It fit, though. Men in Middle-earth tended not to take surnames unless it was a very old family name, and if they did, it would most likely be tied to their occupation. That was clever on Thorin's part, she had to admit, but it also begged the question of why he wouldn't tell his Company her true origins, unless he was doubtful – or fearful. But Thorin Oakenshield did not strike her as a coward, so it would seem he was simply biding his time until she proved herself, one way or another.

The thought did not sit lightly with her.

"Aye, that would be me," she said. "What of it?"

The dwarves around her traded glances as she bit off half a piece of bacon and chewed, her hunger driving away her manners.

"Nothing of it," the blond dwarf to her right said coolly. He seemed to be the leader of their little group, though he was not the oldest among them. "We were simply curious as to why Thorin would agree to such a thing."

She raised an eyebrow. "Then that would be a question for him rather than me, wouldn't it?"

He bowed his head in acquiescence, though he looked extremely unhappy. "Of course, my lady."

"Stuff your ladies," she said, snorting into her mug. "I'm not one of them."

"As you say." His eyes followed her every movement, and she knew this one was going to be a pain in the ass.

"I find it strange that I gave you all my name, yet none of you have returned the courtesy," she said, turning away from him and speaking to the group at large. "Might I inquire as to them?"

"Bofur, if it please you, miss," the one with the hat said, reaching across the table and offering a hand. It was large, fitting over hers like an oven mitt, with the burn scars to complete the image.

"A pleasure, Master Bofur," she said sweetly, and he grinned widely at her. Potential ally number one.

"This here's my younger brother, Bombur," he said, gesturing to the very large, very round dwarf seated to his left. He had a portly face, many wobbling chins, and an immense ginger beard, but he seemed kindly enough, though all he did was nod at her before going back to his food. That didn't surprise her, though. She recalled him as the dwarf who always wanted to sleep or eat.

"Nori," the one with the fancifully styled, starfish-like hair and three-pointed beard said from down the table, waving a dagger at her. He had already finished his food and had been picking beneath his nails with the blade. "Ori, say hello to the pretty lass."

The meek one to her left spluttered, indignant, but his face flushed when he turned to Kate.

"Hello," he said nervously. "Ori, at your service, miss."

She shook his hand, smiling warmly. The dwarf was even younger than she would have expected, though his hand could have easily crushed hers if he wanted.

That left the last two dwarves.

"Kíli," the handsome dark-haired one said, nodding politely to her. Shock flared at the sound of his name, mixed with a little fear, though she didn't show it.

The blond one turned to her in some resign.

"Fíli," he said. He didn't offer his hand, nor did she offer hers again. His approval would have to be earned later.

"It's nice to meet you both," she said, forcing herself to look pleasant, but all she felt like doing was fleeing the room.

Fíli and Kíli were Thorin's heirs, she remembered, and looking at them now, the resemblance was clear as day. It was easier to tell with Kíli; his dark hair and sharp features screamed a blood relation to Thorin Oakenshield, while Fíli's face was much softer, more smoothed stone than chiseled marble, though his eyes were like that of Thorin's: a blue so cold it seemed like ice, with hints of grey within.

Being Thorin's heirs also meant that they would be the ones to die defending him on the battlefield. Her stomach roiled at the thought of having to save these two from death, her breakfast threatening to come back up, but she willed herself to remain calm and look pleasant. It would not do to have a panic attack her first day on the quest, and with any luck, she would be able to prevent their fates from happening anyway – if she didn't screw up or die trying first, as Mahal had so eloquently put it.

The dwarves didn't seem too keen to ask her many questions or include her in their conversation, thank the Valar, so she sat quietly and finished her breakfast slowly. The rest of the Company had yet to show, and she frowned at the window, where heavier sunlight was beginning to spill into the inn. Was Thorin planning on leaving when the summer had ended?

When she had cleared her plate, she took it back to the counter. Anne had disappeared, so she left her dishes neatly on the edge, grabbing her bags from where she had set them by the door and heading for the stables.

Ben the stable boy was brushing one of the dwarves' smaller ponies when she arrived, and he looked up at her approach.

"Ah, it's the lady who won't give me her name," he said. "I only jest, of course."

"Of course," she said wryly. "Do you mind bringing me my mare? I wish to get her packed."

Ben nodded, whisking back into the stables and walking Molly out to her. Kate thanked him, beginning to load her things onto the horse and saddling her up, hoping the company would soon be ready to go. Thorin Oakenshield did not seem like one to waste time dawdling, but she could only speculate as to what was delaying him so.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, his deep voice said from behind her, "Miss Miller."

"Master Oakenshield," she greeted. "I've noticed you've told everyone that I'm a miller's daughter. Clever, on your part." She fixed him with a hard stare. "Yet oddly deceitful."

He scowled. "I thought it best to avoid any conflict. I've convinced them you're a traveler on your way to live with kin in Lake-town after your father passed, leaving you an orphan, and you paid good coin for our protection heading east. Most of my Company would not hear of it, having a human woman traveling with us for so long and so far, especially with the dangers of the quest; they argued with me all night over it."

"I don't see how lying to them makes it better," she said. "Just round them up and have them touch my mark. If it was enough proof for you, it should be more than enough for them."

At the mention of her mark, Thorin's eyes flicked to her forearm, and she saw a sliver of unease in his gaze before it was gone. "I do not know what your mark means, whether it is a marking of witchcraft and dark sorcery or a true sign from Mahal. Until I decide for certain, the Company will not know about it."

"Even your heirs?" When he looked at her sharply, she gestured to the inn. "I met them just now. They're cautious, like you. Will you not tell them?"

"They are young," he said, "almost too young. It was against my better judgment to bring them, but as you said, they are my heirs. After we take back Erebor, they will rule after me. They deserve to have a place in the Company."

He said it as if he were convincing himself rather than her, but she merely stared at him coolly.

"This quest is beginning on a bad foot, Master Oakenshield," she said. "What will you tell the others when they realize you're not dropping me off in Lake-town, or that my story is falsified?"

"I will deal with that when the time comes," he grumbled. "For now, your name is Kate, and you were a miller's daughter. You traveled here from a village near the Chetwood. The details I leave up to you, but do try to make them convincing."

"And if I don't?" She raised her chin a hair in challenge. "If I tell them who I truly am, and where I'm from, and what I'm doing?"

Thorin eyed her with the intensity of one who was not used to answering questions or being crossed, and though he was slightly shorter than her, he seemed imposing and unbending in that moment.

"Then you will come to regret that, Miss Miller," he said softly, the earth trembling in his tone, and she realized then that he meant it.

It did not please her at all, but if she wanted to help them and fulfill her deal with Mahal, then she had to suck it up. Thorin was the leader, like it or no, and she had no choice if she was to be of any use to anyone.

She huffed. "Very well. You have my word that I won't so much as breathe anything to them unless you give me leave, or I deem it wise to share my true purpose." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "And that is final, Master Oakenshield. I won't keep them in the dark forever."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but after working his jaw for a few moments, he closed his mouth again and nodded brusquely.

"My Company packed last night," he said instead. "I will start sending them out, and then we will be on our way."

She nodded, and he turned without another word and reentered the inn.

Kate looked up to the brightening sky and found a last glowing star. "You really had to stick me with the most stubborn bastard, didn't you?"

The star said nothing, though she imagined she could hear a faint voice laughing in the wind.