Author's note: A friend of mine has been reading the chapters before I post them. Not exactly beta-ing, but just giving them an objective once-over to let me know if there's something I should reconsider or take a second look at. When he read chapter 28, he informed me that I should probably increase the maturity rating. Neither of us considered it until 27 chapters had already been posted and we were going over chapter 28. That chapter, while not explicitly descriptive, does contain a very dark adult topic and comes with a trigger warning. Also, not only is this topic insinuated earlier on, but there's also a fair bit of gore that I had not realized the quantity of.

With the increased maturity rating, the door is now open to include some...explicit scenes. I have not decided yet whether I want to write any. As of right now, there are none in this story. If that changes, I will come back and edit this note.

"I'll wager the sun is on the rise. Must be nearly dawn," says Bofur dejectedly.

"We're never gonna reach the mountain, are we?" Ori asks softly. Before anyone can respond, a certain Hobbit peeks around the corner, grinning and holding up a ring of keys.

"Not stuck in here, you're not," Bilbo whispers.

"Emery!"

Hold on, that's not part of the movie...

"EMERY WILLOWS! IF YOU'RE NOT IN HERE IN 10 SECONDS I SWEAR TO-"

Nope. Definitely not the movie.

She checks the time and swears under her breath. Jumping out of her desk chair and yanking the headphones out of her ears, she quickly turns the phone off and hides it in the pillowcase on her bed. After stuffing the power cord under the mattress, she rushes from her room to the kitchen. She keeps her head low, hoping to avoid blowing Tiffany's fuse. Well, more so than it already has been. There are two boys already standing in the kitchen when she walks in. Their heads are lowered like hers, but they're trying and failing to hide smirks. Their foster mother either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Either way is equally possible.

Tiffany and her husband Aaron aren't evil people. But they aren't good people either. They house three foster children. They make sure there's enough food for each to have at least one serving at meals. They make sure everyone has the necessary hygiene supplies. As the children grow, they make sure they have clothes that fit. They make sure they get to school. But beyond that, the foster parents couldn't care less. They don't ensure hygiene is being maintained unless someone starts to reek bad enough to offend their noses. They don't help with homework. They don't check grades or encourage hobbies. They only step into the children's lives inasmuch as their convenience is concerned. Loud volume (sometimes even normal talking volume) is punished. Interrupting the tv or a phone call is punished. Failing to do chores is punished. The punishments themselves vary from yelling to grounding to beatings. Emery wouldn't mind, though. In the six years she's been in the system, she's been in worse places. She wouldn't mind living here if Tiffany and Aaron were her only concern. It's her foster brothers who make her life hell.

Jayden, at the tender age of 12, loves to play pranks. Not the typical pranks kids play, like putting firework poppers under the toilet seat or covering a sponge in cake frosting. No, this boy prefers to steal her clothes and towel while she's in the shower, glue her hair to her pillow, and cut holes in the front of her shirts. As much as Emery hates living with him though, she would take ten of him if it meant not having to live with Anthony. At 16, he has three interests: cigarettes, exercise, and girls. Especially the girl who can't escape his harassment because they live under the same roof. She doesn't tolerate it, she fights back and tells anyone who will listen, but it doesn't deter him. No matter how many times the school scolds or suspends him, it doesn't stop. Certainly not at home, where no one cares and there are no cameras.

At the moment, both boys are in the kitchen, having just reminded Tiffany that it's Emery's turn to cook dinner, and she hasn't started yet. Which is what started the yelling. It goes on for several minutes, and the boys seize the opportunity to leave. She endures the yelling in silence, then a hard slap to the face with only a soft grunt. When Tiffany finally wears herself out and huffs back to the living room, she turns toward the pantry. She shoves pasta and canned tomato soup into her arms and wills herself not to cry. She hasn't cried about her life in a long time. After the accident when she was 11, she cried and cried and then went numb. After a while, the numbness faded and was replaced with hard steel. It had to be steel. The first months in foster care taught her that anything softer would get her hurt.

After dinner, she retreats back to her room, locking the door behind her. Glancing in the mirror to make sure the slap didn't leave a bruise, she walks the few steps toward her bed and promptly falls onto it face-forward. She allows herself to wallow in her misery for a minute, then shakes herself out of it. Only three more weeks, then she turns 18 and she can leave. Just three more weeks. Just three. She's lasted this long, she can make it a little longer.

With that comforting thought in mind, she pulls her phone and headphones out of their hiding places, and buries her head in her pillow as she returns to the world of Middle Earth. As the scene of Thorin's death approaches, she thinks about the unfairness of it, how it just doesn't seem right that Azog fulfills his vow and ends the line of Durin. It doesn't seem right that Thorin is never able to truly see his home with complete clarity of mind. It doesn't seem right that the dwarves of Ered Luin regain their home in Erebor, only to lose the beloved leader they'd hoped would rule it. It doesn't seem right that Fili and Kili die so young and never have a chance to see the mountain in all its glory.

Emery doesn't cry. Except during the fall of the sons of Durin. As Thorin's eyes become glassy and empty, a tear slides down her cheek. How she became so attached to the characters, she doesn't know. Whatever the reason, she's grateful. In the darkest moments, they were there. Perhaps not in reality, but they were there in the back of her mind. Even now, they give her comfort. She briefly wonders what would happen if she were to disappear from this world and appear in one filled with dwarves, elves and hobbits. For a moment, she indulges the thought. Would she be able to help the Company? Would she be able to save Fili, Kili and Thorin? Would they care for her as she cared for them?

She shakes her head, dismissing the thought. Of course they wouldn't. No one ever did. She fights to keep the train of thought from reentering her mind. Her family is dead, the only people who could ever care about her are dead. There's nothing she can do about that, she isn't getting another one. She isn't.

Before she knows it, Emery is drifting off to sleep. Just before she fully slips out of consciousness, a voice, so quiet and soft it could've been dreamt, gently whispers...

"Not stuck in here, you're not..."