Chapter 4: Quest

The dining room was in bedlam. Twelve dwarves crammed in around the tables that looked as though they might buckle under the combined weight of all the food and Fili, who was walking across the tabletops towards his brother carrying mugs of ale. Several dwarves, including Kili, were throwing food to each other. Sara winced internally. There was going to be food everywhere. Dwalin poured ale into another dwarf's ear horn, who then blew it out all over the table to the great delight of the others. At least the floor was moppable.

Gandalf had somehow managed to gather himself a plate of food already and was seated with them looking highly amused, but try as she might Sara could not spot Bilbo among the throng. Probably for the best, he would be distraught at the state of his dining room. She went in search of the hobbit, her experience telling her it was far too late to save the dining room from a good scrubbing. At last, she found Bilbo in the pantry staring forlornly at the newly bare shelves.

"Bilbo, are you okay?" He looked up at her tiredly, a weak smile on his face, and nodded unconvincingly. Seeing that the empty pantry was depressing him she steered him out into the hallway.

"Come on, I've seen that kind of face before. Tell me what's wrong." She already knew the answer but wanted to give him the chance to vent to a willing ear.

"You mean other than my empty larder, which would be enough to bring any hobbit to tears?" said Bilbo despondently. "There are twelve drawers in my home who I've never met before tonight. They showed up unexpectedly on my doorstep and then proceeded to raid my pantry, rearrange my furniture, and all but ruin the plumbing in my first and second bathrooms. They have damaged and misused several family heirlooms, and Gandalf still has not given me a satisfactory answer as to why they are here!" He paused at a crash from the other room. "And I must admit that I'm rather dreading the state of my kitchen and dining room come the end of the evening."

At this most inopportune moment, a younger dwarf clad in a kitted sweater approached them.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt but what should I do with my plate?" he questioned. Fili came up behind Bilbo, winking conspiratorially at Sara.

"Here Ori, let me have that," he said, taking the plate from the dwarf and then throwing it down the hall to Kili who caught it nimbly and then threw it into the kitchen. Bilbo's jaw dropped. Three more dishes flew past.

"Ex... Excuse me!" stammered Bilbo, his face turning red with shock and anger. "Those are my mother's best dishes and they are over a hundred years old!" He tried to catch a dish but Fili and Kili nimbly threw around the distressed hobbit.

"Stop it," said Sara, stepping between Fili and Kili's. "Can't you see you're upsetting him?"

"Don't worry," said Kili, catching a dish just over her shoulder and throwing it into the kitchen. "We won't break a single dish."

Sara opened her mouth to argue but was cut short by the sound of rhythmic stomping and cutlery being scraped against each other from the dining room. Bilbo stomped around the corner. Sara followed.

"Can you please not do that! You'll blunt them!"

"Did ya hear that lad's?" said the hatted dwarf. "He says we’ll blunt the knives."

"Blunt the knives, bend the forks," sang Kili.

"Smash the bottles, burn the corks," chimed in Fili.

"Chip the glasses and crack the plates," sang all the dwarves at the table. "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" The dwarves burst into song as dishes whizzed to and fro. The song they sang had Bilbo cringing visibly where he stood. Sara considered trying to stop them but decided against it, not wanting to mess up their perverse perfection and risk the dishes as the dwarves threw, rolled, or slid all the dishes into the kitchen.

Dwarvish eyes twinkled with mischief and soon Sara began to see a method in the madness, though she doubted Bilbo did. The dwarves were quite systematically cleaning up after dinner. Bilbo looked as though he might faint from over-excitement. With a final "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" the hobbit could stand it no longer. He pushed into the kitchen, Sara behind him.

Just as Kili had promised, not a single dish had been broken, rather, the dishes were now clean and neatly stacked on the countertop. All food save a pot of stew on the stove and a tray of rolls in the oven had been eaten. Even the floor had been swept. Bilbo's face was a mixture of surprise and confusion, and the dwarves began to howl with laughter. All fell still as a loud knock rang through the hall.

"At last," said Gandalf, getting to his feet. Everyone rose from the table and followed Bilbo to the front door. As they gathered around Sara spotted the dwarf still clad in his boots standing next to her. He had the oddest hairstyle she had ever seen, for his auburn hair was divided into three tall fins atop his head. With his beard split and braided elaborately to the side, his face looked like it was framed in a star of hair. Sara was about to insist he remove his boots when Bilbo opened the door.

Framed in the round doorway stood the tallest dwarf Sara had yet seen. Although most of the company were a few inches shorter than her except for Kili and Dwalin who she could look almost directly in the eye, this newcomer probably stood an inch or so taller. His hair was dark and long like Kili's but with a few small braids and grey strands mixed into the waves. His beard was also dark but cut close to his face and his eyes were a dark and piercing blue. He carried himself with innate confidence as he entered through the door.

"Gandalf," he said, spying the wizard. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find, that you would mark the door. I got lost and passed this house, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all if it hadn't been for the company singing just now." He undid his furred cloak with one hand and hung it next to the others.

"I did mark it," said Gandalf, moving to inspect the door. He bent down and frowned. "Someone has recently painted over my mark." Bilbo and Sara exchanged nervous glances.

"I know," said the dwarf, holding out green knuckles. Bilbo dug a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to the dwarf who took it with a nod, wiping his hand.

"That was me Gandalf," interjected Sara. "We didn't know it was an intentional mark." The newcomer's eyes found her and his eyebrows rose a fraction and then fell into a deep scowl.

"Who are you?" he asked, but before she could answer he turned to Gandalf. "Who is this? You said nothing about a female being involved with our meeting tonight." Gandalf closed the door and came to stand by Bilbo and Sara.

"This is Bilbo Baggins and his house guest Sara Miller," said Gandalf, clapping Bilbo on the shoulder. "Bilbo this is the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield, king of the dwarves." Thorin scrutinized Bilbo with skepticism.

"So, this is the hobbit you spoke of." The dwarf king circled Bilbo. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, can you handle a weapon?"

"P...pardon me?" squeaked Bilbo. "What use would I have for fighting?" Thorin smirked and handed him back his handkerchief before toeing out of his boots.

"Thought as much. You resemble a grocer more than a burglar." Several dwarves chuckled lowly causing Bilbo to flush.

"I am a hobbit and quite a respectable one I might add. Just why should I resemble a burglar?" huffed Bilbo. Thorin looked to Gandalf, eyebrow raised in question.

"Bilbo," said the wizard quickly. "Why don't you see if there's any food left for your latest guest."

Bilbo opened and closed his mouth, gapping like a confused fish, but at last his desire to be an exemplary host won out. Grinning falsely, he turned and padded off to the kitchen, most of the others plodding back to the dining room to nurse mugs of ale. Thorin didn't so much as look at Sara as he passed her but just as he was about to enter the hallway he stopped though he did not turn around.

"Nori." His tone left no room for argument. "Take off your boots."

The star-haired dwarf beside Sara slumped and quickly moved to take off his boots. In a matter of seconds, it was just she and Gandalf in the entryway. The wizard gave a weary sigh of relief.

"I can see what you mean about this Thorin. I don't know how you intend to convince him to take me when he barely acknowledges I exist." Gandalf smiled weakly.

"That remains to be seen doesn't it," he said, lighting his pipe. Sara looked toward the dining room.

Zip...zip...zip.

"Leave Thorin and the talking to me. Why don't you go see if Bilbo could use a hand."

She found him stirring a pot of stew on the stove looking out the window, a blank expression on his face.

"Well at least they cleaned up after themselves," said Sara sympathetically. Bilbo gave a little start and turned to look at her. "Though next time I'm sure you could do without the acrobatics."

"Yes, please! I was sure my dishes would all be broken, though you are right it is rather a relief to find my kitchen and dining room put to rights, even if my pantry is empty." He ladled two large bowls of soup and arranged plates of biscuits and mugs of ale. "You have not eaten yet. I'm sorry to have been such a terrible host."

"You mean sorry for being set upon by thirteen dwarves and a wizard and having not a moment to spare?" He opened then closed his mouth, frowning as he passed her a bowl. "It's not your fault. Anyway, I've been too busy with one thing or another so there hasn't been time to eat. But thank you, this smells wonderful." He smiled and took the other food and ale to the door before turning back.

"Oh, before I forget, I found that last sheet of cookies somehow unmarred by all the goings-on, so I put them in the oven."

"Thanks." She smiled at him. "I completely spaced them. I will bring them out when they are finished baking." He nodded his thanks and left her to her food.

The stew was indeed delicious, as were the several minutes of quiet afforded to her to eat. She quickly finished her food but did not touch the ale. She mulled over the day's happenings. It was one heck of a day and Gandalf had certainly been no help. Sure, go on a quest he suggested like it was a cakewalk. She sighed trying to think. Were there others in Middle Earth who might help her? She could only think of Saruman but he was not to be trusted. Maybe the elves… but that was a long shot. Besides, she was in the Shire and hardly likely to stumble into an elf by chance, let alone one who could actually help her.

It seemed there was no other choice but to go with the dwarves and Gandalf. She pushed her empty bowl away, groaning. Well if she had to go she had better find out what the point of the quest was. Putting the last of the cookies on a plate and taking her untouched ale she went to the dining room, where the dwarves were in an uproar of some sort.

"Enough!" roared Thorin as she came through the doorway. The others fell quiet and sat down again, looking to their king. Sara slipped the cookies on the table between Gandalf and Thorin. Thorin glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and she backed up a few steps. He turned to face her, arms folded as if waiting for her to do something. Zip...zip...zip...

"You may leave now," he said at last.

"Don't be churlish," chided Gandalf. "Go on with the meeting."

"She is not needed here. This is our business and I'd rather keep it to ourselves."

"Nonsense. She will be of no harm and it's rude to order about other people's guests. Besides," said Gandalf raising a hand, "I want her here."

"But you were the one who expressed the need for secrecy in our quest or have you forgotten?"

"Surely not, but I assure you she is no danger to you or your quest."

Thorin eyed her from top to bottom with a hard speculative look. He didn't say a word as he turned to face forward again. Sara slipped behind the others making her way to stand the empty corner behind Fili and Kili near the back. The two princes gave her a curious look before returning their attention to the meeting.

"Rumors have begun to spread," began Thorin. "The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years."

As Thorin spoke Dwalin quietly made his way toward her, a spare chair hoisted effortlessly on his arm. He nodded to her before setting it on the floor and returning to Thorin's side at the head of the table.

"Eyes look East to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps, the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected in the mountain. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours, or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor!" A cheer went up around the table.

"You forget," said Balin, cutting across the din, "The front gate is sealed. There was no way into the mountain. Even if there were, the task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but without the support of Dane or the others we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, or brightest."

"That my dear Balin, is not entirely true, on two counts. Your number fifteen not including myself," said Gandalf.

"Have you forgotten how to count?" asked the hatted dwarf. "There are thirteen dwarves at this table."

"Thank you Bofur, no," replied the wizard long-sufferingly. "But there are two additions you are not accounting for; one of which is your burglar."

"Burglar indeed," said Thorin, pushing his empty bowl forward before taking a cookie. "You told us ere this company left the Blue Mountains that if we could not rally the others that we would have need of a burglar but you did not explain why. Why would we have to steal what is rightfully ours? Why should we have to burgle anything?"

"You will have need of him, because of this," said Gandalf. With a flourish, he produced a piece of parchment and a key from his robes. "These were given to me by your father, Thrain, for safekeeping though at the time I did not know it was him till I stumbled across you in Bree. They are yours now." Gandalf handed them to Thorin.

"You saw Thrain? When?" asked Thorin, simultaneously suspicious and hopeful.

"Several years ago."

"Where?" pressed Thorin urgently.

"Near the greenwood or I should say Mirkwood. He was deranged and half-mad but before he vanished he passed them along to me."

"Why have you waited till now to return them to me?" asked Thorin darkly.

"Because I knew you had to be convinced that a call to direct attack on the mountain was fruitless. But now I may present a new plan."

"What plan?"

"Examine the parchment," urged Gandalf. "Bilbo, let us have a little more light please."

Bilbo shuffled out of the room but returned quickly with a lit candle and held it over Thorin's shoulder, looking down at the parchment now stretched over the table.

"The Lonely Mountain," read Bilbo. "Oh, it is a map! I do love maps. I have quite a collection you know." Thorin glared at Bilbo and the hobbit hastily set the candle down and slunk back to stand behind Gandalf.

"So it is a map of Erebor," said Thorin a few moments later. "I remember the mountains well enough without this. Why should I have need of it?"

"Ah," said Gandalf. "But you are forgetting the key."

"If there is a key," said Fili after a moment of silence, "There must be a door."

"What is this funny bit over here?" asked Bilbo who had inched closer once again, overcome with his curiosity. Thorin shot him another glare.

"Well done Mr. Baggins. These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

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"So there is another way in?" asked Kili.

"Obviously lad," said the hatted dwarf rolling his brown eyes.

"Well if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed," said Gandalf with a sigh. "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map. I do not have the skill to find it, but there are others in Middle Earth who do. Now, if we can find the door, then I think that indeed a burglar may come in quite handy for obtaining a certain jewel."

"The King's Jewel," breathed Thorin.

"With that in hand, the others would have no choice but to come to our aid against the dragon," said Dwalin.

"You would need an expert burglar to steal from a dragon," said Bilbo, from beside Gandalf.

"And are you?" asked a dwarf with a large mane and beard of red hair. All eyes fell to Bilbo who turned himself around searching for the object of their interest.

"Am I what?" he asked upon realizing he was indeed what held their attention.

"An expert burglar," clarified Balin.

"Me!" cried Bilbo in consternation. "No, no, no, no. I'm not a burglar; I've never stolen anything in my life." At this, the dwarves burst into an argument. The room seemed to shrink and the air to rush from Sara's lungs as Gandalf got angrily to his feet.

"Enough!" Gandalf's voice echoed through the room. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!" The air returned to her lungs as the wizard's voice slowly returned to its normal timber. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet; in fact, they can pass unseen by most if they so choose." Bilbo tried to get Gandalf's attention to stop him.

"And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him; which gives us a distinct advantage." Bilbo was still trying to flag Gandalf's attention, but the wizard continued. Bilbo looked rather pale as he gave up.

"You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company," he said looking at Thorin. "And I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he has a great deal more to offer than any one of you know. Including himself. You must trust me on this."

It was quiet for a moment while Thorin regarded the wizard.

"Very well, we will do it your way. Balin, give the hobbit a contract." The old dwarf produced a large stretch of parchment and handed it to Bilbo, who took it hesitantly.

"Now Bilbo, I suggest you take that to the sitting room and give it a thorough reading before signing it," said Gandalf, ushering Bilbo out of the dining room, not stopping to let the hobbit ask questions. Upon Gandalf's return, Sara shifted uncomfortably in her seat knowing that she was about to become the center of the dwarves' attention. Looking down at her still untouched ale, she leaned forward and tapped Kili whose tankard was empty.

"Here, you're about to need this," she said. He gave her a questioning look but took it with a nod of thanks all the same. Settling into her seat she braced herself for what was coming next. She didn't have long to wait.

"Now, Gandalf," said Thorin, reaching for another cookie. "We have our fourteenth member. Who is this mysterious fifteenth member, and why have you seen fit to keep them a secret from me?"

"I kept no secrets," said the wizard, annoyed. "I knew nothing of a fifteenth member until today, and there was no time to inform you until now."

"Well don't keep us in suspense," said Bofur, adjusting his hat more firmly on his head. "Tell us who this person is so we can find him."

"You will not need to find this person for they have already found you, whether intentional or not," hedged Gandalf. Sara wished he would just get it over with.

Dwalin and Balin's eyes flicked to her, but Balin looked away shaking his head. Dwalin on the other hand was not so quick to look away and he continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye.

"A name," said Thorin, taking yet another cookie. Sara held her breath, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.

"This person is already aware of your quest and has been here in Bag End since midday today. In fact she..." Gandalf stressed the feminine pronoun and paused. Dwalin's eyes widened and he looked straight at Sara. Besides him, Thorin stiffened.

"She is already among us. Ms. Sara Miller." Gandalf pointed at her.

All was gloriously still for two seconds, but then pandemonium broke loose. Kili and Bofur, who had just taken gulps of ale spewed it all over the dwarves sitting across from them causing them to bound angrily to their feet. Nori, who had been examining a glass trinket from one of Bilbo's shelves, dropped it and it shattered on the floor. Thorin coughed on the last bite he had taken as Dwalin thumped him on the back. Everyone was shouting or arguing with someone else; even Fili and Kili who glanced back at Sara. The only quiet people in the room were Sara, Gandalf, and Balin who sat regarding her with resignation.

"Silence!" roared Thorin once he could breathe. Quiet fell like three inches of wet snow. Thorin shot a scathing look at Gandalf. "I would have words with you in the other room wizard."

Graciously Gandalf got to his feet and followed Thor and into the other room. The moment they were gone the muttering started up again. Sara stared at her toes and reaching into her shirt front pulled out the gold pendant. She clenched in her hand, wishing she could disappear as the chatter intensified and many eyes darted toward her.

"Why didn't you say anything?" asked Fili eyeing her. The two brothers had turned their chairs around to face her.

"We could have kept a secret," said Kili. Fili elbowed him. "Well, we would have tried anyway."

"I didn't know myself until a while ago when I was talking to Gandalf," Sha admitted "I haven't exactly wrapped my head around it just yet. He sprung it on me just as much as he sprung it on you."

"Been a bit of a trying day I imagine," said Fili.

"You have no idea."

"Tell us!" begged Kili. She shook her head.

"I'm not even sure what happened," she said, looking over their shoulders to see Dwalin gesturing for her. Excusing herself, she made her way around the table. Most of the dwarves shrank back from her as if she were diseased. Dwalin waved her into Thorin's vacant seat and was about to open his mouth to speak when a shriek and a crash came from the sitting room.

"Bilbo!" cried Sara, jumping up.

They found him in a crumpled heap on the rug in the sitting room, contract in hand, out cold. The crash had been a small table being overturned as he had fallen. Nori and Bofur grabbed him under the arms and hauled him up in a large wing-back chair in front of the fire. Nori righted the table and replaced the silver trinkets; though Sara could have sworn the table was emptier than before.

Sara shook Bilbo gently. "Mr. Bilbo, wake up." No response "Bilbo! Hey, Bilbo!" She shook him harder. He came to with a start, eyes wide and panicked.

"What?... Ms. Sara. What happened?" he asked, sitting up in the chair.

"That's what we wanted to know. Are you okay?"

He frowned. "I was reading the contract and I... I got to the injury clause." He fumbled for the parchment beside him and finding his place read aloud. "Shall not be liable for injury inflicted or sustained by the dragon, including but not limited to laceration, evisceration, and," Bilbo shuddered, "Incineration!?" His voice was a positive squeak of panic.

"Oh aye," said Bofur, a wicked glint in his eyes. "He'll melt the flesh right off yer bones in the blink of an eye." Sara shot him a look when Bilbo lost what little color was left in his face.

"Think furnace with wings. Flash of light, searing pain, and then poof, yer nothing more than a pile of ash." Bilbo went from white to a sickly color of green.

"Oh, very helpful Bofur," came Gandalf's sarcastic voice from the doorway. He came over and shooed the dwarves away from the hobbit’s chair. "Now, the rest of you out. Leave Mr. Baggins to me." The dwarves shuffled out.

"You two as well," said Gandalf, looking at Sara and then past her to Thorin. The dwarf king stood just inside the room watching, a definite scowl on his face as he turned to leave.

"You can't send me back in there," Sara whispered to Gandalf. "They all want answers and I don't know what to tell them."

"Tell them the truth, such as it is. Just remember my earlier warning. Also, let me explain about the mark on your hand. I won't be long, now hurry and let me speak to Bilbo."

Sighing, Sara got to her feet, patted Bilbo's hand gently, and left for the dining room. The moment she arrived all noise ceased and 12 sets of eyes locked onto her. She stood there tugging at the chain around her neck as the tension in the room grew thicker by the moment. She had almost made up her mind to go back to the kitchen when Balin spoke.

"Ms. Miller, why don't you take a seat." He gestured towards Gandalf's empty chair, giving her a small reassuring smile. Meekly she sat down. Thorin's seat was still empty. The dwarf king appeared in the doorway behind her, arms folded, watching her closely and only adding to her discomfort.

"Now, Ms. Miller, perhaps you would be willing to answer my question from earlier this evening," said Balin. "I'm sure we would all like to know more about how you came to be here, and why Gandalf seems to think you belong with this company."

All was quiet as Sara tried to gather the thoughts that buzzed like bees in her skull. Where did she even begin? What did she say without sounding like she needed a straight jacket?

"Go on Ms. Sara," said Kili from the end of the table. She looked to his eager face and then Dwalin who gave her a small nod.

"I guess there is nothing for it. First, you should know that I don't belong to Middle Earth. I am from a place called Kentucky." They looked at her confused.

"Is that away to the east or south?" asked the sweater-clad dwarf. "I have never heard of Kentucky."

"Um, no. Kentucky is…. Well…." She sighed. Might as well just say it plan. "I'm from another world altogether." A few disbelieving murmurs flew around the table.

"That's ridiculous," said a dwarf with braids of silver wrapped under his chin and over his head.

"Well, I thought so too… until I wound up in Bilbo's pantry earlier today."

"What were you doing in there?" asked Kili as Fili surreptitiously slipped him a gold coin with a grumble.

"No idea," she admitted. "That's just where I appeared. My world is called Earth; it's a lot like this one but there are no dwarves, hobbits, wizards, or dragons. No magic at all really, or so I thought anyway.”

“Then how exactly did you come to be here?” asked Bofur.

“I was exploring a cave and I got lost."

Behind her, Thorin snorted. She ignored him.

"I found a door and when I opened it I was in Mr. Baggins’s pantry."

"Then go back through the door and leave us to our business," rumbled Thorin. "You’re not needed here."

Sara grit her teeth but did not turn to face him. "Do you think I'm an idiot? Of course I tried that but whatever magic was in the door before is gone. Now it only opens to the pantry."

"Then have Gandalf send you back," shot Thorin. "I haven't time to play escort or babysitter." She spun to face him, cheeks burning.

"Look, I don't like this any more than you do. You think I woke up this morning wanting to travel to a new world and join a suicidal dwarf quest to kill a dragon? I would much rather be home. I have my own problems to deal with and every minute spent here is a waste of my time. But I already asked Gandalf. He can't help." She rubbed at the back of her head where a dull throbbing was beginning.

"You are injured as well," said Thorin scathingly.

"You get knocked out by a hobbit wielding a cast iron frying pan and tell me you don't have a headache afterward," she said grimacing.

“Wait,” said Kili skeptically. “You mean to tell us that Mr. Boggins knocked you out with a frying pan?”

“His name is Baggins, but yes, he did. I have a sizable lump on the back of my head to prove it.”

"What did I tell you," said Gandalf re-entering the room with Bilbo at his side. "There's more to Mr. Baggins than you thought. Fierce as any dragon... in a pinch." He clapped a hand on Bilbo's shoulder, who still looked a bit weak in the knees. Sara made to move out of Gandalf’s chair but he waved her back into it and took Thorin's empty seat. Bilbo pulled a stool over and sat down.

"You have not convinced me," said Thorin stepping out of the dark corner, his arms crossed, jaw tight, and eyes flashing. "Why should this company take a woman on a dangerous quest against a dragon? It will be a burden enough to take a hobbit with no experience, but I see no reason to endanger my men further by taking this female." Bilbo flinched.

"Look at the mark on her hand and tell me you see no reason to take her," challenged Gandalf. "Sara show him."

Huffing, Sara thrust her hand out for Thorin to see. He leaned forward and reached for her hand to get a better look. He shot a wary look at Gandalf.

"What trick is this?" Before she could pull away he licked his thumb and rubbed it over the mark as if trying to scrub it off.

"Hey!" She jerked her hand back rubbing it on her shirt.

"It's no trick," said Gandalf.

Balin took her hand and drew in a sharp breath. Bilbo peaked over his shoulder.

"This seems familiar," said the hobbit. "Though I cannot seem to think why. Is it of great importance?" Gandalf nodded.

"Trust your instincts, Mr. Baggins. That is the symbol of Aule and his wife Yavanna." Collective murmurs rose from around the table and several quiet conversations broke out.

"And so what if it is?" ground out Thorin, silencing them all again. "It has no connection to us. Nor does it sway my opinion on the matter. This female does not belong with us." Murmurs of assent filled the air.

"It would seem Mahal disagrees with you," snapped Gandalf. "It’s no coincidence that Ms. Sara arrived here of all places on the very evening that you and your company should be meeting. Surely even you can see that to be much more than mere happenstance. Even if you should be so unyielding, there is still the mark of the Aule."

"I don't care. I will not have her along," argued Thorin. "She will only get in the way."

"Ms. Sara did not stumble into our world by chance. She was sent and sent with a purpose. She is meant to go with you. Mahal has as good as decreed it. Will you go against him?"

"I will," spat Thorin. "You are an old fool if you thought this alone would sway my mind."

"Then hear this," said Gandalf, getting to his feet. "I will not set foot outside the shire without Ms. Sara. If you are too stubborn to see sense, then you can say farewell to Bilbo, Sara, and myself. Good luck to the unlucky thirteen of you with your quest. Perhaps the map and dragon will find you more reasonable, though I doubt it. I will not go against the will of Aule and Yavanna and leave her here. To do so would be folly. I would sooner quit the quest altogether."

"But Gandalf," argued Thorin. "Surely you must see the danger involved if…" Gandalf would have none of it. He raised his hand and cut Thorin off mid-sentence.

"You know my mind on the matter; and my intent. I will not be swayed. Ether Ms. Sara joins us or you are on your own. Now, it's late. I will be at the inn at nine tomorrow morning; whether we continue our journey together or go our separate ways I leave to you."

And with this he left, Bilbo following after him to see to the comfort of his guest. Muttering broke out around the room, angry, anxious, and curious. Thorin shot Sara a scathing glare before storming out of the room with Balin hot on his heels. The front door slammed making her jump.

Unwilling to stay and be gawped at while the others no doubt talked about her in a language she could not understand Sara made her way to the sitting room. She sank into a high-backed chair with a groan, the heat from the fire licking at her knees. The floor creaked as feet neared the chair. Dwalin came to stand in front of her leaning on the mantle.

"Perhaps you should retire for the night as well lass," he said. "Leave the others to their thoughts."

“After Biblo has seen to Gandalf,” she said, sinking further into the chair. It was quiet for a long moment as he regarded her.

"Have ya any experience in the wild Ms. Miller?"

“A bit. Between summer camps and other outdoor activities, I have a few survival skills but I am by no means an expert. I hike and camp so I'm comfortable sleeping outdoors. But I would probably not survive on my own in the long run."

"Have ya got any weapons training?"

"I'm a decent mark with a rifle.” He looked at her blankly. “But you don't have guns in your world so... that doesn't matter."

"Nothing else?"

"Not unless you count the two weeks I tried staff training in my martial arts class."

"Martial arts class?"

"Classes that train you in different fighting techniques, but I mostly took the classes that focused on self-defense and avoiding conflict." He seemed disappointed.

“It's better than nothing,” he said at last.

“Why?” she asked.

“To gauge yer strengths for tomorrow.”

“I don’t see why it matters. Your king is dead set against me coming.”

“Perhaps at the moment he is but by morning that may not be the case.” She shrugged shaking her head.

“If you say so, he seems pretty stubborn to me and I hardly know him.” Bilbo entered the room.

“Get yourself some rest,” said Dwalin making his way past the hobbit and into the hallway. “If I know Thorin, I'll be seeing you tomorrow at the inn."

“This is all so confusing,” said Biblo, lifting his contract from a second chair and sitting down. “Quests and dragons and the like. I can’t imagine why Gandalf ever thought I would want to participate in such a thing. And now it seems he has dragged you in as well.”

“He’s trying to.”

“Will you go?” asked Bilbo.

“I don’t know that I have much of a choice. It seems the only way to get home is to do whatever it is this Aule wants and according to Gandalf that is to go on a quest. What about you?”

“Heavens no. I have no intention of leaving my snug little home.”

“Can’t say I blame you.” She yawned.

“Oh dear me, let me show you to your room. At the very least you should have a good night’s rest before tomorrow.”

She followed him back to the second guest bedroom and was glad to close the door behind herself as if by doing so she could close out everything that had happened in the past few hours. She had only wanted to go caving and now… now… well who knew what now. She reached once again for the gold necklace under her shirt thinking of her grandmother. She slid down between the sheets of the small bed. She had to curl on her side to fit as Bilbo's guest bed was much smaller than she was accustomed to but at this point, she didn't care.

How on earth had she wound up inside a book, inside Tolkien's books even? And how was she supposed to get back? Despite her words to Bilbo she was not at all sure what she meant to do. Even if she did go with the dwarves it was sure to be difficult and the dwarves’ animosity only added to that. Well, at least Dwalin didn’t seem angry that she might be joining them. If all went according to the book Bilbo would be leaving with the company tomorrow so it was sure she couldn't stay here. These thoughts and questions swirled around inside her head for many long minutes keeping her awake as she contemplated her options.

Voices argued down the hall but she could not make out the words. She crept to her door and thanked the stars that Bilbo oiled the hinges often. The door opened without a sound.

"You don't have to do this," said Balin's voice. "You have a choice. You have made a good home for us in the blue mountains. Leave the mountain to Smaug."

"I can't," came Thorin's deep voice. "Every year the struggle is greater to make ends meet. Our people need a proper home, a place where they can support themselves without resorting to drastic means. And now from my father and grandfather this map and key have come to me. They dreamed of the day we would return to Erebor, that our people would be safe again. There is no choice, not for me."

Balin sighed. "If that is your will lad, we will see it done. But what of the woman and hobbit?"

"Curse Gandalf and his plans," spat Thorin. "I don't know why he would insist on bringing that woman. She is young, even for a human. She will be nothing but trouble, a hazard to us all."

"But without Gandalf, we don't have a hope of reclaiming Erebor on our own. I know nothing of this secret door he spoke of, do you?"

"No,” admitted Thorin with a sigh. “And I know of no way to find out. Gandalf seems to have some idea, but after tonight I'm not sure I trust his judgment. A woman and a hobbit indeed. What is he playing at? Is our quest some kind of joke to him?" It was silent for a moment.

"To get the wizard we must accept the girl," said Balin.

"We must allow her to come with us, but who is to say how long she will last," said Thorin thoughtfully. "She is inexperienced and the road is harsh and unpleasant.”

“What are you driving at?”

“Perhaps if left to her own devices she will leave of her own accord. She does not truly wish to be here and we don’t want her. The wizard could not complain if it is her own choice to leave."

"I will not be unkind to her," warned Balin. "She is still a woman. Your sister would be most angry if she ever heard you neglected a woman of any race."

"I'm not suggesting we neglect her or let her come to harm, but we need not go out of our way to make her comfortable. We need not welcome her. We will simply let the struggles of the road will drive her away.”

"You had better hope that she quits us before we enter the wild, I will not conscience leaving her unless she is left with her own kind.”

“No, we will not abandon her, but if she has not turned back before we reach the high pass then I will have severely misjudged her character. What say you?”

“It’s a gamble,” said Balin. “I would not judge her so quickly. We know nothing of her. Besides this, your nephews are unlikely to leave her to her own devices. She is too much a curiosity.”

“I will see to them.”

“I would not be so sure, you know how they can be. They will not likely be content to exclude her, and neither I suspect will Dwalin."

"Dwalin?" asked Thorin, a note of surprise in his voice. "What is she to him?"

"Who is to say, but it seems to me that he has taken a liking to her.” There was a pause. “If I’m honest she reminds me a bit of Dis.”

“She is nothing like Dis,” shot Thorin.

“No? I have rarely seen someone willing to talk so boldly to you.”

“She will learn quickly,” growled Thorin.

“Dwalin will be hard to sway. You and I both know once he has something set in his mind, it's as good as done." Thorin sighed in frustration.

"He could complicate things."

"Things are already complicated," said Balin wryly. “Does the mark on her hand not worry you at all?” Thorin snorted.

“Even if the mark were genuine, you know I have long since given up any faith I once placed in Mahal.”

“But what if she is the real thing? What if Mahal did send her?”

“Then he will see to it that she plagues us until he is satisfied. Get some rest, my friend. Tomorrow will prove to be a long and arduous day."

Sara closed the door as their footsteps echoed up the hall. Gandalf was crazy for thinking that she could be friends with the dwarves. She slipped back into bed, her anger boiling just below the surface. Fine. If that’s the way they wanted to play it, so be it. She would play.