#my friend asked where gandalfs big naturals went

[amoebeau]

gandalf and bilbo my dear friends gandalf and bilbo

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

Hi! Can a request an aragorn x reader one where everyone of the fellowship knows he loves her and she just doesn't realise? Fluff and maybe a kiss in the end? Thank you

Aragorn was by no means stupid. He was quite intelligent really. However, the second you entered the picture the man became a complete moron. He’d trip over his own feet, he’d walk smack into wall, half of the time he couldn’t carry a full conversation with you because he’d literally forget how to speak. Everyone could see it. Everyone but you apparently. Aragorn was in love. He had known you for a number of years, seeing you as the occasional hunting partner seeing as you worked for Barliman in the Prancing Pony.

Aragorn first saw you walking in with a dead deer strapped to your back and actually thought you to be a man at first before you removed your hood. Then he saw your face. Your e/c eyes met his and it was game over. The man spoke with you and discovered that you originally hailed from Rohan but moved after a sickness swept over the land. Aragorn found out quite a bit actually. You were a hunter who frequently supplied food to the inn, you played the lute (very well) and you loved to be around the bar. But more importantly, you loved adventure. According to you, without adventure, many a song would not exist, which by all rites was true. You had a bit of a adventurous soul that constantly wanted to run through fields, so when Aragorn went on a task to help a group of hobbits leave to Rivendell, you naturally decided to leave with them.

Even Merry and Pippin could see the love in Aragorn’s eyes when he looked at you. It was hard not to notice such love. Which is what they had trouble grasping. How were you not noticing it?

The fellowship was formed, you joining them after Aragorn announced that he’d go with them. Was he thrilled to take you on a potentially deadly mission? No. Was he happy that you were going to be right next to him for a long time? Yes. Arwen said that he was acting like a child for not voicing his emotions towards you though. She claimed that if he didn’t speak up soon she’d have to do it for him. Well, this led to Aragorn being irrationally paranoid about leaving you alone with Arwen. Anyone else? sure. But Arwen was a big NO.

You stood in the halls, looking at Isildur’s sword with Boromir. “It’s impressive even if it is broken.” you pointed out. “Indeed." Boromir agreed. You stared at it with this almost sad look. "Do you suppose there is a true heir amongst us?" Boromir asked. You nodded. "Aragorn bares the ring and shares Isildur's blood." you stated. This was a fact he told you after four years of knowing him. He told you after a hunting trip, you had asked why he was a ranger for Gondor. He didn't tell you at first but you asked him why he went by another name. That, he answered. He showed you the ring, the books from Rivendell about his lineage. How he technically switched his name twice and didn't know of his true lineage until he was older. You were shocked of course. You had heard stories of your people hoping to accidentally stumble across an heir. You had done it without meaning to.

Boromir sighed. "You believe this to be true?" Boromir asked. "Did Lord Elrond, a man who once stood with Isildur, object when Legolas claimed this?" you asked. Silence fell over Boromir. Shit, you were right. If Elrond didn't object then it had to have been true. "Do you suppose he'd be a good king?" Boromir asked. "Yes." you nodded. "How do you figure?" He asked. "I've seen Aragorn with people. He understands their struggles, he grasps why people need something. He has resolved many problems, all while dealing with his own. " you stated. Boromir looked at you once more. "...You feel strongly for him?" Boromir asked. You stuttered. "I-I never said-" " you didn't have to, it's rather obvious." Boromir said. You sighed, looking down. "Please don't say anything." You muttered. "Why not voice your feelings?" Boromir asked. You sighed. "I don't want to make him uncomfortable." You muttered.

Boromir blinked. "You mean you do not notice it?" He asked. "Notice what?" you asked. "Notice what?" You asked. He chuckled. "What!?" you asked again. "It is not for me to tell you." He said. "My lord please! I must know now, you treat me as if I was a child!" you whined. He sighed and turned to you. "You want an honest answer?" he asked. "Please." you nodded. "With the way he looks at you, there is a large chance he reciprocates your feelings." He said.

And so you were driven mad by this statement, observing Aragorn's actions to you at a microscopic level. He was touchier with you, often patting your shoulder or head when you did something. He stuck closer to you and often stayed up with you if you could not sleep. Perhaps Boromir wasn't insane for assuming something. Aragorn did in fact have some sort of affinity for you, however you weren't sure in what manner. Was it romantic? Platonic? Brotherly? What was this?'

You sat on a rock, reading a map. Or at least trying to... Your focus was all over the place. You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. You heard someone sit next to you and saw Aragorn. "Trouble with the map?" He asked. You jumped at the sound of his voice. "Oh uhm... I wanted to see if Gimli was right about us taking the path through Moria... He isn't wrong. It would be quicker but for some reason Gandalf seems adamantly against it." you muttered. Aragorn nodded. "There is much danger within those walls of Moria. You seemed close with Arwen, I am surprised she didn't speak with you about it." He muttered. You looked over. "Her mother once took that path." He told you. You looked back at the map. "she mentioned this story, she never mentioned the path that was taken." you muttered. Aragorn nodded. "Are you... close with Lady Arwen?" you asked. "She is my friend. Why?" He asked. "A friend? Nothing more?" you asked. He rose a brow. "Why the sudden curiosity?" he asked. A blush came over your cheeks and he leaned forward, observing the expression on your face.

To hide the embarrassment you raised up the map, blocking his view of your face. He pulled the map down and rose a brow. "Y/n, what's going on?" He asked. You wanted to speak but nothing came out. "Aragorn, it is my turn to watch." Gimli said, trudging over. You got up but Aragorn followed. "Y/n, why are you suddenly flustered? I haven't seen you like this since the first time you met Lord Elrond." Aragorn said. You still didn't talk, walking over to your sleeping area and sitting down. Aragorn of course, slept near you so he sat in front of you. "Boromir mentioned something and I cannot get this out of my mind." you sighed.

Aragorn rose a brow. "What is it?" he asked. "He said, something along the lines of you..." You sighed. "This is ridiculous. Can I please just sleep-" "Y/n, this is clearly bothering you." He said. You looked down. "He said you held romantic feelings for me." you said in a low mutter. He gulped.

Well shit, he expected Arwen to say something before Boromir would. "But that's... Foolish. Right?" you said softly. He looked at you. "Why is that foolish?" He asked. "Aragorn you... you're a king, you have these important titles... I do not fit with your life I-I'm just a woman." you muttered. "You speak as if you are nothing." He said. "I speak realistically because to most, I am nothing." you said. Aragorn shook his head, clearly upset by your feelings. "You are not nothing to me." He said. You swallowed, looking at him. "Aragorn-" "I don't give a damn about your status. I don't care if you're the lowest class possible, you are an amazing woman. You are beautiful, kind, you are someone who is strong and courageous- Y/n how could I not love you!?" He asked. You blinked. "...You... You love me?" You asked. He swallowed.

Aragorn was never very straightforward with his feelings, in fact he rarely showed large amounts of emotion, he typically kept to himself. You however had this effect on him. He'd share everything with you. And right now that was showing. "I love you." He repeated. You didn't move. Your expression didn't change. In fact you seemed motionless. "Y/n?" He asked. You seemed frozen. "...Y/n are you alright?" He asked. You finally leaned forward, gripping him by his shirt and kissed him.

He was shocked of course. The second he registered what was happening though, he put a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into his arms. You eventually had to pull away for air, looking into his beautiful eyes. "You are not useless. Please know that." He said softly. You hugged his neck, him burying his face in your neck.

The next morning you two were found asleep in each other's arms. Sam looked at Frodo with a grin. "It seems we missed a lot while we rested." Gandalf said. You leaned up with a yawn as did Aragorn. You smiled at him and he smiled back at you. He felt eyes on him though making him turn. "...It seems we have an audience." He said. You looked over. "What should we do?" You asked softly. "Give them something to look at." Aragorn chuckled before he kissed you.

[hey-its-nonny]

Yay! I was thinking if you could write a Thranduil x Male Reader. The reader is Thranduil’s husband, he’s shy, caring, intelligent and small (I mean compared to Thranduil😂). I just want Thranduil being all sappy and protective of his lovely Angel! Thrandul’s husband is such a cute cinnamon roll🥰 and Thranduil just spoils him so much! His husband wants new clothes? Done. New Jewels? Done. Thranduil loves to pamper his husband, always the best things for his Angel!

Omg! Imagine Gandalf and the others meeting Thranduil’s husband (he’s a motherly figure to Legolas) and just being so in love with him omg. Just some Thranduil being a big softie and protecting his husband! Ahhh so cute

Thanks for your time!

Love it!!!

fluffy one shot coming right up!

this differs a bit from canon, but it’s hilarious so just bear with me.

warnings: Bullying, slightly underweight reader, protective (lowkey scary) Thranduil

~~~~~

You strolled across the bridge, tugging at the hem of the soft, olive green tunic resting around your torso.

You knew they’d find you if you didn’t get to the library soon, so you put a bit of pep in your step. A group of elves claiming to be your friends usually paid you a weekly visit on your way to work.

Most of the time they just made fun of you, so it was easy to brush off; but there were times when they got a punch or two in to really make their point.

Unfortunately, this was one of those special occasions from the looks of it.

The tall, dark haired group of brutish elves steadily followed you, only speeding up when you spared them a glance.

At this point, you were running to the library.

That only fueled their ambitions, though. They chased after you, hellbent on ruining your day.

Then, you made it into the maze of books, finding shelter behind your desk. You looked up to make sure they didn’t hear your breathing, peeking above the surface to check if they were gone.

They weren’t.

Even better, they saw you. With grins more twisted than the labyrinth of books you sat in front of, they slowly approached you.

The closer they got, the further you backed away. Once your back hit the wall, heart racing, you realized there was no way out of this.

Mine of the elves, Belhír, if you remembered correctly, grabbed the collar of your shirt and offered a bone chilling smile, sending shivers down your spine.

Accepting your fate, you closed your eyes and braced yourself for the blows sure to come.

Only thing was, there weren’t any.

You opened your eyes and lo and behold, Thranduil Opherion, your king and frequent visitor, stood in front of you, cooler than an autumn breeze.

You’d only interacted with him a few times, but from what you remembered, he was a decent man. You might have even gone so far as to develop a silly little crush on the king.

“Release him.” The elf demanded, voice smooth, yet somehow sharper than knives.

Belhir immediately let go of you, clearly baffled by the king’s mere presence.

Yet, the king was focused on you. He stared at you, sending blood straight to your cheeks.

Three simple words broke the silence, Thranduil’s gaze never leaving your face.

“Come with me.”

———

Now, you sat beside your husband in the garden, basking in the warm embrace he gave.

”Y/n? Can you hear me?” The elf inquired, pressing a kiss to your forehead to make sure you heard him.

With heated cheeks, you sheepishly smiled, pressing a kiss to your husband’s jaw.

”Sorry, meleth, I was just lost in thought.” You apologized, shivering at the deep chuckle against your neck. In reality, however, you were a bit disappointed.

Today was your anniversary and Thranduil still hadn’t remembered. You decided to drop one more hint, hoping he’d remember the event.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” Thranduil asked, eyes trained on your face just as they were the day everything changed.

“The day we became a family.” You answered, your voice laced with nothing but love for the two boys so deeply intertwined in your life.

Your husband hummed, running his fingers through your hair. “One of the best days of my life.” He replied, standing up and holding his hand out for you to follow, his grin warmer than the sun.

“Come with me.”

You followed him out of the garden you’d grown to love, curious as to where he was taking you. With a bit of patience and some walking, you found yourself standing in front of your shared quarters.

Now you were just confused.

“What are we doing?” You asked, tilting your head to convey your confusion.

Thranduil just smiled. “Get dressed. I have a something for you.”

Still confused, you obliged, slipping in between the doors of your closet.

You had to admit, knowing he didn’t remember hurt your feelings, but it was just a date in time. It was silly to be upset about.

You dressed into a f/c robe, one that Thranduil had given you, and tousled your hair in the mirror before striding out of the room, still clueless as to what was going on.

Thranduil looked stunned when you walked out, eyes wide. Shaking himself from his trance, Thranduil offered his hand.

“You look wonderful, meleth nîn.” Your cheeks flushed while you took the elvenking’s hand.

“Thank you, love.”

Thranduil lead you down the hall, dead silent with an expression more solid than the ground you walked upon.

You realized that you were heading towards the celebration hall. Why were you going there?

Was he throwing a party for some reason?

Oddly enough, you were right.

Thranduil opened the door for you, that wretched, gorgeous smile tainting his lips as your eyes lit up.

Everything was decorated so beautifully.

Flowers and green garlands were strung high everywhere, adding to the natural beauty this kingdom already held.

Upon looking closely, you saw that the flowers Thranduil had chosen to decorate with were the same flowers you’d put up on your wedding day. You couldn’t believe he remembered.

”Happy anniversary, my darling.” A low, beautifully familiar voice stated, accompanied by a hand slipping around your waist.

You grinned, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around Thranduil’s neck, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“You remembered.” You breathed, your goofy grin melting the elvenking’s heart.

Thranduil scoffed. “Of course I did.“ He hummed, smooth voice ringing into the almost completely silent room.

It was just the two of you in there, which made it so much sweeter. While you knew Thranduil loved being the center of attention, you were quite the opposite.

You liked leading a more private life, and Thranduil knew that. Somehow, you loved him even more.

With a nod towards a group of musicians, Thranduil led you out onto the large dance floor, gripping your hand with a smile.

While your cheeks darkened, your smile went in the other direction, brightening with each step Thranduil lead you in.

The music only elevated how you felt, sweet melodies touching your heart while you danced in the arms of the one you called your home.

You wanted to cry a bit, in all honesty, just because of how happy you were, but you refrained from it to keep from confusing Thranduil.

You watched Thranduil’s feet, attempting to remember the dance as best you could. While you were focused on getting the steps right, Thranduil was merely admiring how perfect you were to him.

You were sweet, caring, intelligent beyond comparison, handsome, strong in the sense of willpower (he was actually very concerned when he first saw you.), and to put it simply, everything Thranduil needed.

You were everything he wanted, too.

Thranduil watched you dance, madly in love with the way you tried so hard. While he would never speak to anyone else this way, Thranduil opened his mouth and spoke with a honeyed tone.

”My love, it’s just us. Do not worry about formalities.” He reminded, finding that this was one of the first times he’d spoken this gently since his first love left him.

Then, he realized how lucky he was to have you.

As if you knew what was running through his mind, you smiled up at him, slowing the dance to kiss him.

It was sweet, affectionate, and conveyed the love you both shared for each other.

Once you pulled away, you grinned, wrapping your arms around Thranduil’s neck, falling into a slow sway as the music followed.

”I love you.” You breathed, cheeks so red, you had to avert your gaze to the floor.

You couldn’t see it, but Thranduil was genuinely smiling at you, admiring how phenomenal you were.

“And I love you.” He replied, tone smooth and loving.

After plenty of dancing, you both grew tired and decided to call it a day.

You both changed out of your formal wear, settling in under the covers of your shared bed with content.

You laid on your side, Thranduil behind you as the day came to a close.

”Goodnight, Ithildin nîn.” Thranduil hummed, wrapping an arm around your waist with a kiss to the nape of your neck.

You shivered, placing your hand over Thranduil’s. “Goodnight, meleth. Thank you.”

Upon seeing the way your body reacted to it, Thranduil kissed the nape of your neck again just to tease.

“For what?”

You shivered again, playfully smacking his hand.

“A wonderful life.”

~~~~ Thranduil’s ooc bc in this one he’s not heartbroken and angsty all the time :)

ANYWAYS

here’s my tag list:

@eru-vande @thewhiteladyofrohan @from-patroclus-with-love @elvish-sky@entishramblings

thank you for reading!! <3

[d3-iseefire]

To Chase the Rising Sun Chapter 5

Ori hadn’t been exaggerating when he said there was a crowd gathering outside.

When Bilba pulled the door open, there were at least twenty hobbits clustered on the lane running in front of the house, with more coming every minute.

Bilba made an irritated sound. “Stay here, and don’t speak to anyone.”

Fili frowned. “I thought--”

“Stay here,” she repeated, sharply. She strode down the walkway, leaving him standing in the doorway.

Sensing a presence behind him, Fili half turned to see Kili approaching.

“Are you all right?” Kili stopped next to him and studied him as if looking for injuries.

Fili resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Clearly.”

Kili scowled. “I barely slept last night. I kept wanting to burst in and—"

“And what?” Fili asked dryly. “Ensure she hadn’t murdered me in my sleep? That would have been ridiculous, not to mention without cause.”

Kili crossed his arms, and fidgeted, something he only did when he was about to say, or do, something particularly stupid. “So,” he started, finally, only to stop and clear his throat. “Did she make you sleep on the floor or did she let you – I mean – did you – or –”

“I hardly think that’s any of your business,” Fili growled, cutting him off. Kili was now the second member of the Company who seemed to feel it was their place to intrude on what happened between him and his wife behind closed doors, and it was two more than he planned to tolerate.

On the lane below, Bilba was confronting the crowd. Fili couldn’t hear what was being said, but he didn’t like the way she was being surrounded and almost backed against the gate. Her stance was angry, defiant even, but her position from a defensive standpoint was…not great. Had he been in her position he’d have spoken to them from the yard, letting the fence and gate serve as a natural break between them. Some might have called it cowardice, but it would have put forward a stronger position than the one she was in now.

“So what?” Kili asked, defensively. “You’re on her side now?”

Fili let out an irritated breath, eyes not leaving his new wife. “I married her, Kili. I happen to take that seriously.” Even if she didn’t, or at least hadn’t given much thought to the severity of what she’d done.

“So she did marry you,” a lilting voice spoke from right next to Fili’s ear. “I can’t say I blame her, though I do wish she’d have given it a little more consideration.”

Fili and Kili jumped a foot and whirled to see a woman standing next to the stoop. She looked about the age that Bilba pretended she was, with dark hair tied back in a neat bun. She wore a blue dress with an apron and was idly rocking back and forth on her heels, hands clasped behind her back with an innocent look in her eyes.

Fili wasn’t fooled.

For one thing, he had no idea how she’d gotten there. The front yard was completely enclosed by a fence, with the only entrance or exit being the gate that Bilba was currently standing against. There was no logical way for someone to have gotten inside the fence, especially unnoticed, and, yet, here she was.

The second thing was that Fili knew he was intimidating. It wasn’t a matter of pride or ego; it was simple fact. Dwarves were warriors. They were big, and naturally prone to being muscled. They trained to fight from a young age, and the people of Middle Earth knew that. It was normal to see people cross to the other side of the street to avoid him or watch him nervously when he entered a tavern to eat. They did the same to the others in the Company.

Well, except for Ori, but he was the outlier, not the norm.  

In either event, he wasn’t Ori, and yet this tiny sprite of a woman who didn’t even come up to his chin showed not even a hint of concern at having approached a strange dwarf on her own. If anything, given her attitude, she might be standing near a friend or neighbor she’d known for years. It was either extreme naivety…or extreme confidence.

“I think,” he said, slowly, “that Bilba told me not to speak to anyone.”

Her smile broadened, to something with an odd edge to it. “Did she? Well, she certainly didn’t mean me.” She studied him closely, a strange light in her eyes. It was, Fili realized, quite like what he’d seen in Bilba’s eyes when she’d first seen him. And now that he thought of it, there were people in the crowd with their gazes fixed on him in a way that suddenly had him feeling exceedingly uncomfortable.

“Maybe you should go inside,” Kili said in a low voice next to him.

“Coward,” the woman tsked, without heat. She frowned down toward the group. Most had drifted off, but there were a few left that Bilba seemed to be individually threatening. “I can see why she did it,” the woman murmured. “A war in the Shire wouldn’t be a pretty sight.”

“A war?” Fili asked in surprise. “You’re joking.”

“I never joke.” She turned that unsettling gaze back on him. “Are there any more of you?” She gestured vaguely to his hair as she spoke. She hadn’t even acknowledged Kili, which Fili imagined was probably at least a bit of a blow to his ego. His little brother was generally considered extremely attractive by the standard of almost every race. Fili was far more used to watching his brother be fought over, not him.

“No,” Fili said, shortly, and mentally reaffirmed his decision to never let his father set foot anywhere near the Shire. Given how close Ered Luin was, it was a miracle that neither of them had ever run into this problem before now.  

“Pity,” the woman said, sounding genuinely regretful. “Bilba’s lucky she got to you first.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it.” Bilba said, striding up the path toward them. Behind her, the lane was mostly clear with only a few stragglers standing just beyond the borders of the fence line. “They wanted an alliance. I gave it to them.”

“Did they now?” the woman’s eyes narrowed. “Is that all they wanted?”

To Fili’s surprise, Bilba’s eyes darted away from the woman and focused on some random spot in the far distance. “I’ll be leaving for a while. Immediately.”

The woman let out a hiss. “Bilba, you know you can’t do that. Not now. The Council—”

“The Council can pound rocks,” Bilba grumbled. She crossed her arms and, for a brief second, reminded Fili of a defiant teenager. Once again, he questioned just how old she was. Sometimes she seemed older, and others much, much younger. No one seemed to be concerned over the idea of her being married so much as the way she’d went about it, however, so he was figured she must be considered of age at the very least.

The words she’d said registered and he frowned in surprise. “The Council? What Council?” And why would they care what one of their residents did or didn’t do?

The woman’s eyes narrowed and turned calculating. “Bilba, please tell me you explained things to your new husband before you married him.”

Bilba rolled her eyes. “I told him what he needs to know?”

“Which was basically marry me or I won’t kill a dragon for you,” Kili volunteered helpfully.

“Kill a dragon?” the woman asked, sounding genuinely stunned. “What dragon?”

Bilba muttered something under her breath and stomped past them, into Bag End. “I’m leaving, and that’s final! I don’t care what the cursed Council has to say about it!”

The woman sighed in exasperation and followed her. “You know you can’t just do whatever you want, and you certainly can’t just leave!”

Bilba spun to a stop just before the entryway of the living room. Inside, Fili spotted his uncle and most of the company in various stages of eating or packing.

The woman noticed them too and suddenly switched to a language Fili had never heard, the words all sharp edges and harsh, guttural sounds. Bilba switched into the same language and the two proceeded to have what sounded like an extremely aggressive argument.

As the words grew more heated, Gandalf appeared from nowhere and stepped between the two women. “Now, now, why don’t we—”

“Silence, wizard,” Bilba snarled. Her voice was thunderous and sounded very much like Thorin’s when he was particularly enraged. “You’re the last one I want to hear from.” She glared at the other woman, before whirling around and heading toward her room.  

“Bilba,” the woman, whose name Fili still didn’t know, in frustration. “The Council has to have heard by now. They’ll be—”

“I hope they are on their way,” Bilba interrupted, the tone of her voice deceptively light and airy. “I’ll turn them to ash where they stand.” She punctuated the last word by slamming her door, closing herself inside and the rest of them out.

Fili heard a quiet chatter near his feet and looked down to see Mandar standing on his haunches, two claws lightly holding onto Fili’s trouser leg as he stared at Bilba’s door.

“She’s fine, Mandar,” the woman said, with a long-suffering sigh. She held her arm down, fist closed. Mandar leapt up, grabbed her fist and dragged his body up and onto her arm. He swarmed up, curled around her neck and tucked his head under her chin.

“Should I go talk to her?” Fili asked. He had no idea what he’d even say, but figured he at least had some obligation to try.

“No, I’ll handle it.” Mandar lifted his head and chattered at her and she absently scratched his eye ridge. “Is that so?”

Suddenly tired of how she was being deliberately vague and cutting him out, Fili cleared his throat. “How about this?” He swept into a proper bow. “Fili, son of Vili, at your service. And you are?”

He wasn’t being…entirely polite in his attitude, tone, or mannerisms and the way a slow smile spread over her face showed she recognized it.  

“You might just do.” She turned to face Gandalf, who’d been standing there the entire time, being firmly ignored. “Now, Wizard, you can come explain to me why you intentionally bypassed me when you came through last night. It had better be an exceptionally good explanation.”

Mandar scrambled off her shoulders and landed back on the ground near Fili’s feet as the woman led Gandalf off toward the kitchen.

Kili frowned after them. “It is just me, or did Gandalf look nervous?”

Fili silently agreed. The wizard had looked quite nervous.

At his feet, Mandar chirruped at him and then spun around and scampered back out the open door, off to where several of his friends were waiting perched along the top of the fence near the gate.

Fili sighed. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be getting answers any time soon. He cast one final look down toward the room of his new wife and then headed into the living room to speak to his uncle.

***

Bilba was curled under her covers, content to sleep until everything that irritated her died of old age, when she heard the door open.

“I will roast you,” she threatened.

“You most certainly will not.”

Bilba grumbled, shoved the covers back and sat up. At the door, Primula carefully closed the door and stood in front of it, arms crossed over her chest.

“Don’t give me that look,” Bilba muttered. “You know I had no choice. They’d have fought over him.”

Primula gave her a knowing look. “Let’s not pretend the safety of the Shire and her people were top of your mind, my dear. You claimed him because you wanted him, and then came up with the argument after in hopes of placating me. I’m mildly insulted you thought it would work.”

“It wasn’t to placate you,” Bilba corrected. “It was to try and placate the Council.”

“Yes,” Primula said dryly, “Because placating the Council is always top of your mind.”

“Are they here?” Bilba asked. “Can I kill them?”

“No,” Primula said shortly. “At least not yet.” She shook her head. “What exactly are you thinking? You know you can’t leave, not now.”

“Yes, I can.” Bilba scrambled off the bed. “It’s perfect, all of it. Think about it. They keep insisting that I’m too young, right? That I’m inexperienced and haven’t proven my strength.”

“I hardly think they intended you to take on a high dragon.”

Bilba rolled her eyes. “Oh, they’ll be thrilled. They’ll hope I die in the attempt and save them the problem of having me assassinated. I get rid of that smug asshole and bring back a ton of gold and no one will ever question me again.” She almost skipped forward, coming to a stop just in front of Primula. “And, my new mate is a crown prince, did you know that? He helps his uncle rule in Ered Luin. No one can complain about my lack of experience with him at my side.”

“How long did it take you to come up with that?” Primula asked. She sounded mildly amused, which Bilba took as a positive sign.

“Almost all night,” she confessed cheerfully.

“Uh-huh,” Primula said. “And who’s going to keep the Shire running while you’re gone? I know you’re not expecting the Thain to do it.”

“Of course not,” Bilba said with disgust. “He’d sell me out before I’d made it out of Hobbiton.” She put her arms behind her back and adopted what she hoped was an innocent expression. It had been a long time since she’d been allowed any expression at all, so she wasn’t entirely sure she remembered how to do it correctly. “I’d hoped you would agree to take over while I’m gone. You’re practically in charge already, and you’re the only one I can trust to not stab me in the back, literally and figuratively.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

Bilba waved a hand absently. “You’ll do great, and you’ll have Lobelia and the boys too.”

Primula shook her head. “They’re going to kill you when they get back.” She sighed and chewed on her lower lip. She wasn’t outright saying not, and Bilba knew she’d probably already concluded that what was done was done. “You should take someone with you.”

“It’d violate like five treaties.” The stupid, idiotic, wildly unfair and unbalanced treaties that she planned to have changed as soon as possible. “Only one of us is allowed past Bree at a time.”

Primula scowled. “I don’t like it.”

“It’ll be fine,” Bilba insisted. “I’ll be gone a few months--”

“Months?” Primula interjected. “Why in the world will you be gone that long? It should only take a few hours!”

“Treaties,” Bilba reminded her. “Plus we don’t want to telegraph to that oversized worm that we’re coming. We’ll get there the annoying way, and back the quick way.”

“You talk like you’re trying to convince me, but you’ve already done it, haven’t you?” Primula said in annoyance. “Even down to laying claim to their heir. You know what you’ve done, don’t you?”

Bilba shrugged. “I know. It’ll be fine.”

“I’m disappointed in you,” Primula said, and Bilba flinched. “I let you stay here alone because I trusted you to behave properly.”

“You’re the one who keeps insisting I act an adult,” Bilba shot back. “Then you go and get angry when I make a decision without consulting you first, like an adult.”

She started to push past the other woman, only to stop as Primula grabbed her arm. “Bilba, did you really not tell him anything?”

Bilba tensed and crossed her arms. “He didn’t need to know anything,” she said defensively. A thin thread of guilt raced through her, but she stubbornly ignored it.

Primula closed her eyes for a few seconds, and then opened them again. “Bilba, do you have any idea the danger you’ve put him in?”

The feeling of guilt intensified. “That wasn’t my intent. I told you, he’s a crown prince. I’m sure he’s used to being in danger.”

“Danger he knows about,” Primula corrected gently. “Threats he knows to look for, and where to look.” She put her hands on Bilba’s shoulders. “What you did to him was unfair, and unkind.”

Bilba tensed. “It’s a little late now.”

Primula squeezed her shoulders. “You need to tell him the truth and give him the option to refute the match.”

Anger flashed through her, and Bilba jerked away from the other woman. “He’s mine. You just want him for yourself!”

“Bilba.” Primula’s voice held a warning, and Bilba felt her temperature rise. “He’s a person, not a possession. You can’t just claim him.”

“I already did,” Bilba bit out. Her mind raced. “If he refutes the match, then he’ll be available again. The entire Shire will want him.”

“I didn’t say it had to happen here, or that it had to be public.” Primula moved closer, into Bilba’s personal space. Bilba growled low in her throat but looked away, refusing to meet the other woman’s eyes. “I mean it, Bilba. You can’t just go around claiming anyone you want. Give him the option. You know I’m right.”

Bilba did, and she also knew the other woman was doing her a kindness by challenging her in private. Still, the last thing she wanted to do was offer Fili a chance to refute her.

He probably would, if given the chance. She’d pretty much strong armed him into marrying her, and she had nothing to offer. Power? He had it. Wealth? He had that too. If anything, marrying her hurt him, just as Primula said. It put him in more danger, and would make his life a whole lot harder, and for what?

Literally, the only benefit she could offer was herself.

She made a disgusted sound and, with a pointed glare at Primula, she stalked out of the room.

She was pretty sure she was about to go down in legend as having the shortest marriage in recorded history.

***

“I need to speak to you.”

Fili broke off speaking to Balin and turned to see Bilba standing behind him, arms crossed and looking royally pissed off. Kili would say she always looked like that, and he wasn’t wrong, but given that he could almost feel the anger radiating off her, he guessed this time around it was a little stronger than usual.

She turned and stalked off, and he obediently followed her, through the kitchen and out the back door of Bag End. He shut the door and turned to face her. Past her, in the light of day, he could see rolling fields, trees and a wide lake. It was a beautiful scene, and he felt a momentary burst of regret that there would be no time to simply sit and appreciate it.

At least they were starting their journey with pleasant weather.

“I’m Queen of the Shire.”

Fili’s mind blanked for a second. “You’re the what?”

“Queen,” Bilba repeated, irritated. “Which makes you the king, more or less, and the list of people who want to kill you is probably a lot longer now, or will be when they find out.” She crossed her arms and scowled toward the field as if its existence was personally offending her. “SoIfYouWantToRefuteMeYouCan.”

The words were spoken in such a rush that it took several minutes for Fili to understand them. Then the full weight of everything she’d said to him crashed down on him, and he suddenly had the strong desire to go back to bed and see if things might, somehow, be magically better once he woke up.  

So much for thinking it would be a pleasant day.

Follow on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21839575/chapters/52120591

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Hobbit!Legolas x Reader: Meeting

(Author’s note:  Heyo!  I know I write a lot of dwarf fics, so I figured it was time to write something else!

This one goes out to those who are team elf!  Holla)

. . . .

Still, you couldn’t fight the feeling in your chest at the thought of seeing him again.

. . . .

   “‘Just go to Middle Earth’, he said,” you muttered aloud.  “‘It’ll be fun’, he said.  Well, Gandalf, I’m not exactly having the time of my life!”  You withdrew the sword from the spider’s corpse in front of you.  “When I see him again, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

   “_________, what are you muttering about?” Kili asked, glancing at you and then at the dead spider.  “Nice kill, by the way.”

   You shrugged.  “Thanks.  So, do you know if we have a plan to get out of here?  These spiders are just gross.  I didn’t even want to come here in the first place.”

   “We’re just fighting our way out, looks like,” he replied, turning to watch your back.  “Think you could lend me a sword?”

   “Sorry, I’m out of extras.”  You jumped forward and slashed another spider as it raced to attack a member of the Company.  Bofur shouted a thanks, and you acknowledged his gratitude with a nod.

   This was the scene in the Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug movie where the Company escapes the spiders.  As an outsider who knew the course of the journey, you had really hoped to steer the Company clear of this part, but unfortunately, the spiders still caught you all off guard.

   You had arrived at the beginning of the journey when the Company first met Bilbo in the Shire.  Even though you’d been traveling with them for some time now, fighting still made you nervous.  Your sword skills had improved greatly, and sometimes you peppered the battlefield with comments to make others think you were unafraid, but deep down inside it was still scary at times.  Especially when dealing with giant, gross spiders!  Ew!

   Unfortunately, this fear made an appearance when one of the spiders launched itself straight at you, slimy mouth wide open and revealing fangs.  The sight was so disgusting, and the arachnophobe in you cringed away from the creature instead of meeting it with your steely blade.

   “_______!” Kili called from several feet away.  He was unarmed and too far to help.  Other members of the Company were preoccupied with their opponents to intervene as well.  It looked bleak for a split second.  Then, the spider was thrown aggressively off its path by an unseen object.  It fell over onto its side, writhing on the ground with an arrow lodged in its flesh.

   Your eyes darted back to where the arrow could have come from, and you saw a figure in green with light blonde hair slide down a curved tree trunk until he landed near you.  The spider had stopped moving for now, so he instead aimed his bow and arrow at you.

   “Drop the sword.”�� 

   You did as he ordered and put your hands up.  Around you, residents of Mirkwood began appearing on the scene, taking out spiders left and right before circling the Company.  Tauriel was among them, which was neat.  Her and Kili had hit it off.  They spoke in their elvish language, and as a Lord of the Rings fan who spent your time learning the language back home (especially movie lines), you understood nearly all of it.  

   And it was utterly frustrating not being able to use it when it mattered most.

   You had kept this ability of yours to speak Sindarin a secret from your group.  Since Thorin had such contempt for elves, you figured that advertising your knack for the language was a bad idea.  It wouldn’t help you earn his trust which you had so carefully fostered over the course of the journey.  If you spoke for the Company now instead of letting Thorin speak first, that would also be disrespectful.  Even so, you wondered if it would do you any good at all anyway.  Mirkwood elves were not like Rivendell elves.  You had let Elrond in on your secret, and he had been fascinated, but Legolas and Thranduil might end up being even more suspicious.

   Legolas was being all mean and insulting, making accusations of Thorin stealing the blade Orcrist, and  accusing him of lying about it.  He called Gloin’s wife his brother, and his son a goblin.

   Just you wait, Legolas.  You’re going to spend a few decades outside the Woodland Realm and are going to become a big softie by the time the Fellowship is formed.

   Then, he looked at you with those blue eyes.  “Are these dwarves keeping you their prisoner?  I cannot imagine any other reason a young woman would travel with such a… crew.”

   “I am not their prisoner,” you clarified, resisting the urge to scoff at such a notion.  You had to remain as calm and sensible as possible, or it would make things worse.  “They are my good friends.  I’d appreciate it if you didn’t raise false accusations against them.”

   He observed you for a moment longer with that beautiful but wild gaze.  He then turned to give his soldiers orders in Sindarin.  The Company was escorted through the deadly woods, no doubt to the fortress. 

   Before long, you found yourself in a cell alone a little ways away from the rest of the Company.  The others chattered and hollered, some even tried kicking at the doors to no avail.

    “Leave it! There is no way out! This is no Orc dungeon,” Balin scolded. “These are the Halls of the Woodland realm. No one leaves here, but, by the king’s consent.”

   At that, the hollering and loud bangs stopped, but the Company continued to chatter as if devising a plan for escape.  You leaned against the wall and sank to the floor slowly, knowing very well it would be hours before Bilbo arrived.

   “________,” Bofur called. “ You okay, lass?  You’ve been awfully quiet.”

   “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied.  “Just tired, thanks.  Everyone up there alright?”

   “We’re fine, dear,” Balin assured you.  “I can almost guarantee that Thranduil is offering Thorin a deal.  The question is: will Thorin take him up on it?”

   “Considering how he feels about these people,” you hesitated.  “I’d say our chances of him taking the deal are slim.”

   “I’m afraid I agree,” Balin sighed.

   Some time had passed before Thorin was dragged into the dungeon and pushed in his cell.  Balin inquired about whether Thorin was given a deal, which of course, Thorin had refused.  However, Thorin remained hopeful that there was another way out.

   Later that night, you were still lying on the cell floor listening to the nature-y sounds that filled the dungeon.  There was the sound of running water, like a stream or small waterfall, and it was quite soothing.  A couple of voices echoed softly.  You spared a glance outside your cell to see Tauriel outside Kili’s cell talking.  Those two were so cute.

   Suddenly, a shadow was cast over your cell.  Legolas stood there gazing at you quietly.  You hadn’t even heard him approach!

   “What business does a young woman have with a group of dwarves reclaiming Erebor?” he asked.

   “That’s a good question,” you nodded.  “I asked myself that a few times when the journey first began.”

   “You didn’t answer my question.”  He didn’t sound angry, just curious.  “I do not understand why you would endure such a journey for people who are not your own.”

   “I do not have to be from Erebor to care about them,” you countered.  “I think you place too much importance on where a person’s from or who their people are.  It’s normal to take pride in those things.  I know I do!  But friendship and comradery should go beyond that.”

   He was silent for a few moments, as if taking in all that you said.  “You are wiser than you look.”

   “Oh...thanks?” you weren’t sure if that was an insult or compliment for certain.

   “I meant, you are wise beyond your years,” he clarified.

   “Ohh,” you nodded in understanding.  A compliment.  “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

   “Appreciate what?”

   “What you said.”

   “I was merely stating an observation,” he said dismissively.  “You are...different.  Not like any maidens here.”

   “Well, I’m not from around here,” you explained.  “Where I come from, this place is the stuff of legend.  I suppose even here it is.”  With a pause, your eyes found his.  “It’s very beautiful.”

   “It is,” he agreed.  “Though I would not mind traveling, visiting the other realms.  Your home- you said it was not around here.  What is it like?”

   “Like me, it’s...different,” you went on.  “It is beautiful in its own way.”  You watched him, curious as to why he was there talking to you instead of jealously watching Tauriel and Kili.  He considered you a stranger, so it would be odd to ask such a personal question.  “I don’t believe we have formally introduced ourselves.  I am ________, member of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

   Legolas’ lips formed a small smile.  “I am Legolas, son of Thranduil, prince of Mirkwood.”

   “I suppose it’s a pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances.”

   His brows furrowed as he looked at the bars that separated you, remembering that you were a prisoner.  He took a step back, conflicted.

   Then, he walked away.  “I must go.”

   As expected, you and the rest of the Company had made your daring and clever escape.  Bilbo had returned and ushered you all into the barrels, pulling the lever so they’d drop and fall into the river.  With many other experiences on this journey, you discovered that it was so different to actually live the scene as opposed to watching it on TV.  The water was cold, and you worried your barrel would tip.

   The situation had erupted when not only the Mirkwood soldiers perceived your escape, but also orcs arrived on the scene.  Early morning sunlight shone in the sky, and the air was brisk.  You felt it every time it touched your skin when you rose out of the water momentarily.  There was a particularly big and hideous orc on the shore aiming an arrow right at you.  You could do nothing but try and duck into the barrel since you were lacking your weapon.  Even then, it was risky.

   Before either you or the orc made a move, an arrow went flying into the side of its head.  Your eyes followed the path to see Legolas leaping into battle with another orc.  He paused, blue eyes meeting yours even from a distance.  It hadn’t been simply about protecting Mirkwood, he had rescued you.  Something flashed between you.  You weren’t sure what, but it was something.

   The fight progressed, and you even got a hold of an orc’s axe.  You knew very well Legolas could protect himself, but when the opportunity arose, you threw the axe at an orc to stop it mid-swing behind the Mirkwood prince. He no doubt heard the orc’s shriek, turning to glance at it and then you before resuming conflict.

   The stream’s current picked up, and pretty soon the Company was so far along that no orcs could be seen.  No sign of Legolas or Tauriel either.  You knew you’d see them again soon, but until then, a part of you would miss Legolas Greenleaf.  

   How silly. You thought to yourself.  You’ve only just met him.  No need to get all mushy already.

Still, you couldn’t fight the feeling in your chest at the thought of seeing him again.

Part 2

[decadentenemyturtle]

The Great Unknown

Part 23

Words: 2499

Pairing: Thorin x Reader

The previous chapter of The Grat Unknown

>

You had heard many kind of stories in your short life, starting from your favourite of Beauty and the Beast to your dear friend Emma slaying her first dragon. And these were not just stories. These were someones history, something that had actually happened. But still, when someone told them to you, they were just like stories. They felt like stories, not something that actually happened to someone.

Your mother, Regina, used to tell you stories every night, even when you were an adult. She even told you about her past, about the bad things she had done. When you were a kid, many people told you stories, like Mary-Margaret, David (when you asked him nicely and looked like sad, kicked orphan puppy), Granny (when ever you were visiting her little restaurant and if she just had time to tell you something), Bell (even when she rarelly told you that much), captn Hookey the drunken master of thee salties waters of them all (he, and only he could tell the most captivating stories from the seas), Emma (with her glumsy way of just saying that she did, because duh, why not), grandpa Rumple and your brother Henry. The last two were your absolute favorite story tellers. Grandpa Rumple had seen so much in his life and he had his own style to tell things, both good and bad side, and he was being honest about them. And Henry was an natural story teller. He could captive anyone while tellings his stories. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he was THE writer.

You had heard too meny stories to count in your life. You knew about war, dragons, ogers, Shrek and Fiona, one true love, the typical Disney story telling of any "good 'n evil" shite, how everything wasn't just as you thought it would be. And yet none of it was quite your story. You were just you, nobody, some sort of an side character of a story.

Yea, you were a daughter of mayor of Stoorybrooke, Regina Mills, and her husband Robind the Hood (infamous steal from the rich and give to the poor -guy), but still, you were not quite their daughter. They had adpoted you, when you were just few weeks old. You had two older brother's, or half brother's, or whatever, Henry and Roland. Your aunt was an evil... sorry, wicked green witch from OZ, who now days was a white which from the Wester OZ, godmother of Dorothy (one of your friends). Your "grandpa" was the infamous Rumplestiltskin, or Rumple for a short, his wife Bell referred rather to be called aunt ("I'm too young to be called a grandma. Sorry, honey") and their son, Gideon, was like a cousin to you. You had a few uncle's from your father's group called Merry Men. Every single one of them called you a princess, and refused to call you in any other name, even when you were a grown up woman threatening to stick a tree in their ass.

Too much information yet? Not too comblicated?

Yeah...

That was your story, your history. Comblicated shaite in a fairytale city, where people ran around killing dragon's, defeating evil beings and what not, while your life was protected and utterly boring. You were not allowed to do anything. Many pople, like the people mentioned earlier, took care of that.

And then came the day, when you could choose the college, or what you wanted to do with your life. You wanted something different, something... well, normal. So, you applied for few different universities. And a new path opened to you, in New York city, when you started your studies as a photographer. Capturing the world from afar and showing it to the world felt like your thing, and far too much something you had done pretty much your whole life; Watching the world from afar while it went on and while you did nothing to it.

Anyhow. After the life you had lived, even after your parent's had decided to move in NY to "have some own time", you felt like a normal photographer, who loved capturing peoples lives in a picture and go on a longer trips with your partner to photograph nature and animals. Your life was normal, perfect and you truly felt like yourself for the first time.

And then you had visited your parent's apartment one afternoon... And the fight that had followed... And then, everything you knew had changed. You didn't know if it was an irony or not, but it seemed that even you had more in your backstory than just regular, boring life. Just, the funny thing was that, you didn't remember a thing what happened to you these past few millenium or so in your life here in Arda.

So, who are you going to blame when you had laughed for the story you had heard from the Blondy, aka Legolas, son of Thranduil, prince of Mirkwood.

    "Many things have I heard in my short lifetime, but not a story like this! And when it is suppose to include me!" you laughed drily. You had priefly mentioned to these two elves, that the city you were from was full of stories of heroism and dragons and war and things like that, but how you had never been involved any of those things, even when your mother was a mayor, or the leader of the city, as these two didn't quite understand what a mayor was.

"It still is your past, whatever you remember it or no. When aunt Sarael sent your fea to safe, you must have forgotten your life in here" Legolas said, glancing at you sadly. You three were half jogging, half walking towards the Big lake in front of the Lonely Mountain.

You did feel bad for not remembering, or even knowing what was suppose to be your history, if all what you had just heard was really your history, or if people were just misunderstood and your capability to turn into an animal was just Gandalf's magic's doing. Anyhow, this was your life now, being a daughter of an elf Glorfindel and Guradian-Maian Sarael, a skin changing protects of all Arda. And, apparently, Beorn was some sort of an kin to you. Legolas wasn't sure how, but apparently all the skin changer's were some sort of an descant of your blood line.

"Well, may it be so then. But I do apologie for not remembering anything, or you for the matter" you sighed. To be honest, you felt bad for not remembering and being sure, if this elf was indeed your cousin. You wished there was a way to remember things, but magic and brains had their ways, and therefor, you had no change of just remebering things. Something needed to happend to trigger your memory, and erase the magic blocking your memory. And there was a slight change that you would ever remember your previous life in these lands.

Legolas only sighed, and said nothing. He knew it wasn't your fault of losing your memories of this world. But, Legolas seemed to be sure that you were his cousin. And, then you frowned. He might claim to be your cousin, but the little facts he had given to you to think over and to believe these theories were just that, theories. He seemed to put much weight over the fact that you could only change your form to an animal. For all he knew, it might actually be Gandalf's magic that had caused this to you, not the fact that you were his cousin.

"Hey, Legolas, can I ask you something?" you asked as you followed the two elves down the river. "How do you know I'm your cousin? Do I look like her, or is there something that reminds me of her?" For now there hadn't been any sight of orcs, but Legolas and Tauriel could spot easily marks of a battle. The bodies of dead orcs were dead give away of that, and even you could easily quess that there had been a figt. Which meant that the dwarves and the orcs had had a battle, until the bodies and other sights stopped. Which only meant that rather the company was dead or the orcs had lost sight of the dwarves, or the orcs were all dead.

And after few minutes the prince of Mirkwood decided to answer you. He stopped over a rock, watching a little beach below with a frown. You and Tauriel stopped next to him, you looking up to the blondy. 

"I knew her as if she was my sister. You remind me of her; You are shorter than her, but your hair color, facial features, laugh and smile, and...." Legolas stopped and turned to look at you, with a small smile "Above all, your fea is exactly same and as bright and lively and full of life as hers. And there is no possibility to someone have same kind of fea as other has. Even twins share different kind of feas, even if they look similar to eachother" You swalloved, turning your gaze shily from his. So, you did remind Legolas of this girl.

"I... I wish I could remember" you said, still staring at the river. You didn't need to look at the two elves to know that they were looking at you with pity. "I want to remember. Everything. To find a way to remember, or even know if there's a way to remember" Legolas took a step towards you and placed his hand on your shoulder. When you looked up to him, he smiled.

"We will find a way, ressë" he said. You could feel the warmth and friendliness in him, and you welcomed it. Maybe trusting him wasn't so bad idea afterall, maybe all he said was true. You were exhausted and hungry, and slowly you started to realize it. Your tierd emotinons were getting a better of you, and you knew that after eating a little something and a little nap you'd be better and more welcoming in these new things, and maybe even more accepting.

But right now you couldn't do these things. These two wanted to catch up the dwarves, you wanted to catch up with them, catch up with Thorin. The sight of battle had left them, and you, worried that some of them might be hurt. Sturdy as the dwarves might be, one or more of them might still die to bloodloss or poisoning, as you had carefully suggested if the orcs were using poison in their weapons. And since their healer's - Oin's - stuff had been left back in Mirkwood, they had no supplies to bind and heal the wounds. And you weren't even sure, if all the orcs were dead, or if some of them were still chasing the dwarves down.

"There's two possibilities where the dwarves might be" you said. You had crossed a river, rather easily, and were standing now on a beach, where the dwarves had most likely been earlier. There was one lonely, broken barrel left behind, and Tauriel had spotted a place over a rock where "a dwarf sized could easily sit" with pool of blood right next to it. Someone of the company was clearly hurt, and had been given first aid with what they had - which meant a ribbed pease of someone's cloth over the wound.

"The mountain is one possibility, but it is a bit far away for a wounded one" Tauriel mused and turned towards the mountain.

"And they have to cross the lake to get there. They have the barrels, but I doubt that they'd be stupid enough to use them. The water is already cold enough in the river, but the lake is freezing cold. Too cold even for dwarves. They have had to find another way to cross it" Legolas said, seeming to be deep in tought. You looked both Legolas and Tauriel, wondering if neither of them would suggest Laketown. It was nearer than the mountain, and the dwarves probably needed supplies and weapons. And a warm shelter after the ride in the river.

"I... don't think they went to the mountain just yet" you said carefully. Both Tauriel and Legolas turned to you with guestioning look, so you continued: "Atleast one of them might be hurt, so they need healing supplies to get him, or them, better. And, they need other supplies aswell, as I understand that they left without taking anything but the barrels with them. They need a little bit food, clean and dry clothes, and weapons with them. And, as I understood it, there's a fucking dragon in that mountain. And were talking about dwarves here. They would not go anywhere near that mountain without any weapons, even if they might not kill the dragon with these weapons. And if they have orcs on their tail, they might want to get somewhere else than near a dragon, where - if it's still alive- they could get themself killed in a snap"

Something flashed in both Legolas' and Tauriel's eyes, and then they both smiled. You looked at them, a bit confused.

"So, to Laketown we go" Tauriel says, and starts to jog onward, probably towards this Laketown. Legolas gives you encouragin smile and nods to you. You sigh and so the two of you jog after the red haired elf.  You really didn't feel like exercising today, but alas, this wasn't a gym class you could just skip when you didn't feel like playing a tag. This was worse than that, far worse than that.

The jog to the small city took about two hours. At some point you had felt like just giving up, sitting on nearest rock and staying there for the rest of the eterinity, but Legolas had offered to carry you on his shoulder - but only if you'd change your form into a small animal. So, you had taken a form of an small cat and on your cousins shoulder you stayed on the rest of the jog.

And, at first you three smelt it - and you only smelled it because you were on a form an animal. A smocke, like when something was burning. Something big. And a bad feeling set on you three.

"Let's hurry, I have a bad feeling about this" you said, and jumped down from Legolas' shoulder, turning into a leopard. You ran past rocks and trees and finally the three of you came out of the mall forest right next to the lake. And then you came to an halt.

It was an early eavning, and the sun was just setting. The sky was colored in orange, yello, pink... You know, the usual. But, right now, the colors were more vivid, more powefull. And there was the orange glow in the horaizon, some kind of steam and smoke rizing from what seemed like a...

"No..." Tauriel whimpered.

The Laketwon was on fire. But there was no dragon on the sight.

Tag-list;

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[grgop]

Day 22 | Visiting Koyasan-Okunoin, Kongobuji and Hojo-in (and night with the giant spiders)

Hey guys! I have 3 more days out of 29 left to describe adventures from my trip in Japan. I would like to continue with Day 22 when I was already in the camp, my fourth day with the campers, and our next locations were several temples and the traditional hotel somewhere in the mountains of Wakayama-prefecture. This includes going to the Okunoin temple which is part of Koyasan area, followed by the lunch and visit to the Memorial Monument of Lions Club, then a buse ride to Kongobuji temple and lastly to Hojo-in temple and the hotel which behaved literally like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

Unfortunately I do not believe you will be able to read about this day with plenty of information as I will not have enought time, we visited so many places each with its own story and so many things happened I would have to break it into two posts. However, let me try to keep it short.

Visiting Koyasan-Okunoin

We left our hotel in Osaka after spending a day at the Universal Studios Japan. What it was like you can read and see in three of my reports. After breakfast we left for the temple of Koyasan where the trip lasted for almost 3 hours. What I remember while arriving there is that it is a part of the larger complex with several temples. It was all suggesting we were going to have an awesome time today, especially if you are a fan of the Buddhist temples, rituals and walks through the forest. Unfortunately, it was raining practically the whole day that even extra umbrellas were needed to survive. All of these places are located in Wakama Prefecture maybe just about on the half of the way between Osaka city and Wakayama (a bit closer to Wakayama though).

Okunoin temple (part of the Koyasan area) and the especially the area and the path leading to it are just amazing. I had to have a look at all of my photos and on the internet to remind me and there is just so much to tell you about.

The path that leads to it is maybe half an hour or more long and you are walking among thousands of little temples, shrines and the tombs throught the forest. All in gray and green. Here is where I learned about the red clothes put on the sculptures or columns at the cemetires that actually show that there was a baby or a child that died.

One of such places were several big pyramides of little sculptures and plenty of colorful rags or scarfs put aruond them. For a moment one would have thought to be in some other country as this with the pyramides was strange for me to associate with Japan. While walking through the forest of the very tall trees we end up across several smaller bridges in front of the stairs that climb on a hill.

Behind the enormous dark gates upon the stairs one finds the huge temple, also in dark colours, that was surrounded with so white stone that almost looked like snow!

We entered the temple and what I noticed was the ceiling full of hundreds of little lanterns. We had a priest there who showed us a little bit things around and we came across a book where you could write a message referring to the luck or wishing someone luck. It was not a guestbook of course and I saw that noone really wrote stupid messages there as we use to while visiting some places. Alongside the book were many of amulets or luck artifacts with kanji on it. On some of the wooden sticks even one could write a message but since we knew no Japanese except for few friends most of us did not touch it. There was also a donation box which is quiet normal for all the sacret places in Japan to have. Unfortunately, we were not supposed to take photographs of the interior...

Lunch and the Memorial Monument of Lions Club

We went then back for the lunch at the big restaurant house near the parking lot. There was some other large building close by that might have been a train station. After lunch (and this time meal was difficult for us) we were supposed to visit the Memorial Monument of the Lions Club when it started to rain heavily. We had to bring more umbrellas from the bus to help the others without it. It took us about 10 minutes of walking till we reached this cemetary and the Memorial Monument in the middle of it. We spent there several minutes and commemorated the dead members of the Lions Club. The Japanese cemeteries look a bit different from ours. While we prefer to have the horizontal epitahs with the name and the text written horizontally in Japan the columns are being preferred with the text (signs) written vertically. What I also noticed was that many of these columns had a hole at the top whre one could put a candle. And the top of it then was closed by a little roof that looked like a square or the roof of the temples.

Visiting Kongobu-ji temple

Our next destination was the temple of Kongobuji which is maybe the biggest temple we have been to and covers pretty large area. I remember the white sand aroudn the path after passing the huge gates and then the classic – taking of the shoes and leaving them at the wooden stairs. Walking then through the hallways that were connecting the rooms and halls (maybe everything on some kind of a platform) in the socks until we were asked to sit down in one hall and ... wait for the tea and cookies. That is what I remember more or less.

The last stop today was the hotel and the temple Hojo-in where I do not remember anymore the temple and whether we visited it or not but very much the hotel we stayed at. On our way there we stopped once at Lawson store to get some snacks which turned into a big shopping madness. Mr Toru told us we do not have to spend our own money and bought us everything! I also saw there the „magazines for the adults“ and was laughing. I could not pick inside as all of them are packed in the plastic foils and unless you buy them it is not possible. I did it for the purpose of journalism of course.

Hojo-in hotel

The rain started again as we were leaving with our bags from the bus to this temple. It was night already but the place looked big. Unfortunately no time to go around it even in the morning but the hotel and the temple had an enclosed yard with nice garden and rocks lying around. Oh, I forgot to mention that at all the Japanese temples have rocks lying around the yard but always somehow balanced. I believe they represent something with the energy and energy points forming some balance in the nature and among the architecture.

At the entrance of the house we had to leave the shoes again and put them into the wooden racks on each side of the racks. Then we got the number of the room...or just headed to any room we found. I was in the room with one of my best friends there – Ugur from Turkey. Now the hotel was pretty interesting, the whole compley actually. One half of this huge building had about 3 floors in total with many „hidden“ hallways that were like a labyrinth. There was one space where one could sit on the sofa and even catch wi-fi signal when lucky. We were walking with our smartphones in the air trying to catch the signal like the scene from the Lions King, haha.

The rooms here were of course traditional and the „locals“ (the priests) here were wearing their kimono I think the whole time we spent there. The walls of the rooms were pretty thin and you could hear the others several rooms away so talking here and secrets was not going to pass. There was a wardrobe with the doors that open to the left and right (and the doors of the room too) and had plenty of blankets. We had two mattresses on the floor and also a place to charge our electronics. There were large windows and we closed them both not wanting rain to get it. It proved to be a very smart decision that evening, as you are going to find out.

We had a dinner in a large hall on the first floor (next to the entrance) sitting in severalr ows on our knees on small pillows. I could not take it anymore and chose to sit in what we call in Croatia „sitting like  Turk“ posture with both legs crossed. We had now opportunity to eat Vegerian only meal as that was the practice at this temple. It was quiet delicious even without meat (I am a carnivore btw) and we did not feel hungry. Again a bit of everything on the plate. There was one problematic part that was impossible to stay still when using the chopsticks, something white that looked like a pudding, and always fell down in the bowl. It took me 5 minutes before it stopped falling.

We thanked the hosts for dinner and then had country presentations. One had to be careful not to lay with their back on the wall behind because it would get damaged easily. Another potential „danger“ and a problem were the doors to this large room or hall as some of us were much taller and could get hit in the head like Gandalf in Bag End.

We had now about 2 hours of free time before going to sleep and it was not boring indeed. What should I mention first? Let me see...getting lost around the building and discovering large halls in the basement (in the dark!), hunting down and running away from the spiders of a size of a tennis ball, going for the shower for the first time in the „public“ baths with other guys naked...

After roaming around with friends and checking every floor and the floors (and since there were very few other guests besides us it was pretty spooky to go walk around alone) we found those baths and probably the strangest toilets I have ever encountered. There were two doors – one for men and for women...but then instead of having a wall between each other the toilet in the middle (khm, for „the big need“) was shared by both! You could literally pass through the men's restroom into women's just by going through that cabin in the middle, insane! haha There was also a room with sinks where one could shave or brush teeth in peace. I did it, being alone on the whole floor waiting for the monsters to attack me. And right now remembered another toilet non of us did not want to use. The place where you are supposed to sit while peeing or the other thing ... was just a hole in the floor! I was wondering how that was even possible to do without falling on your back and rolling around. And there were sveral holes (or let's say these „sophisticated toielts“ ) in the row meaning you could have been with the others. No privacy, no toilet paper and no toilet bowl. Never iagined that. There was a pretty normal and modern restroom on our floor of course. But that downstairs is like walking through some museum.

Then my roommate and I decided to go in the last 15 minutes before its closing to the shower room as we thought „We are going to have to do this within few days at this Inunakiyama Onsen so maybe try it now when there is not many people around to break the ice.“. So we did there and it was first strange but once you stop caring nothing abnormal. We spent 5 minutes there and one of the campers was also there I believe (but could not recognize him without glasses) who asked us „hey guys, what are you laughing about?“ but he could not understand it from our point of view.

The last thing to mention were the hueg spiders that scared the *thing* out of everyone. You remember me mentioning it was a wise decision to close the windows in our room? Well, the others did not do it.

What happened and how we survived it (and if we did) coming soon.

Plans for the other day

There was an ascetic practice in the morning for the brave ones who wanted to wake up around 6am. I was sleeping. Then we went more to the south to famous Shirahama and spent the day at the Shiraham White beach, were supposed to watch the fireworks and have a karaoke evening in the hotel.

Thanks for reading.

Photo credits go to the Lions Camp Osaka counselors and the campers (Jesse Tucek).

[xxbyimm]

Enya’s Unexpected Journey - Chapter 13

For all other chapters, click the number: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Chapter 13

Summary:  Enya has one hell of a day. Meeting a skin changer is one thing, but what about a fiery redhead who cannot stand her?

They were not going to make it.

Facing the pale orc herself and thereby saving Thorin's tight ass is one thing, but to outrun a skin changer... Enya panted as she and the company ran behind Gandalf in the fastest way they could manage. Surprisingly, Bombur was just behind her. She was happy that he could keep up this time. A terrifying roar came from behind that made everyone run a little bit faster. Enya wanted to look behind her to see the magnificent beast for herself, but decided that she'd rather live to tell the tale. 'RUN!' Screamed Gandalf once more. Enya panted and thanked her past self once again for keeping up a running routine. Her persistence saved her life numerous times now. She felt relieved when a house appeared on the horizon. They were nearly there. Perhaps they would make it after all.

As they ran into the courtyard, a loud scream that came from behind made Enya stop. Everyone rushed by and concentrated on opening the door, screaming to each other in blind panic. Enya turned around and swallowed hard when she saw what was going on. Ori had tripped over something (god and she thought she was the clumsy one?) and Bilbo was helping him to get up. That damned Dolvira stood by them and had grabbed her sword to fight. The bear was only a few feet away from them, his mouth already open wide to swallow them. Even with a sword of a warrior dwarf woman, Enya knew they were doomed. This bear was powerful and she doubted that a single blow from a sword would kill it. They all would be dead before Dolvira was able to strike a second blow. Without thinking, Enya left the safeness of the courtyard, towards her friends. Although she happily would see Dolvira disappear in the bears mouth, she could not endure the thought of losing Bilbo or Ori. 'MISS ENYA I ORDER YOU TO COME BACK!' Thorin yelled at her, but she ignored him. She pushed Dolvira, Ori and Bilbo out of the way. The faces of the latter two were pale and the fear of death was written on them. Dolvira smirked. ‘Leave this to the real fighters among us, pretty face.’ Enya payed no attention to Dolvira and turned to Ori and Bilbo. 'GET. IN. THE. HOUSE!' She ordered them. They obliged as fast as they could and ran into the courtyard again. ‘Get in the house.’ She repeated to Dolvira. ‘REALLY?’ Dolvira screamed. ‘YOU ARE NO FIGHTER! YOU ARE A WORTHLESS WORM! DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU WILL GAIN THORINS’ LOVE IF YOU CAN SAVE THE DAY, HUH?’ As much as Enya wanted to discuss her motivation for putting her life on the line (and right now it once had nothing do to with Thorin), there was simply no time. The bear was near and it would devour both of them if she did nothing. With a massive force, Enya’s hands blew Dolvira out of the way, into the safeness of the yard. Dolvira screamed and tried to get up, but the force was too massive- she could not even get up.

Wait, did she just used the power of the wind to do that?

Enya frowned and went to face the bear. Again, there was no time to think about that too. Wind or not, the skin changer neared her. Enya swallowed and told herself that it didn't matter if she died. The original company would still be intact. Thorin had Dolvira. She had to protect the quest at all cost.

In a matter of seconds, the bear was in front of her. Magnificent, he was. Too big to be a normal bear, with dark brown fur and brown intelligent eyes. His face was scarred, with deep old wounds running through the fur. The bear stood on his hind legs and roared. His enormous white set of teeth made Enya tremble. But she did not move and held her ground. 'Greetings, my friend.' She whispered. 'I have deep respect for you.' The bear inspected her curiously and Enya wondered if it was as intrigued as it seemed. 'I am so sorry we are invading your lands, but we are hunted by an orc pack. We are tired, and seek refuge in your home.' She said and lowered herself down on her knees. Enya waited for a blow from the mighty claws. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the moment. She readied herself for blinding pain, but.. Instead she heard a low voice, talking back to her. 'You can reason with me in my bear form... What are you?' The bear said and he sat down so he could study her face from up close. 'I am Enya Blueheart, a fire witch from the firebeards clan.' She answered. 'I normally don't like dwarves.' The eyes of the bear glistered with anger. 'But you are different. Your forces come from nature. You respect nature. Nature respects you.' Enya nodded. 'Who is with you?' The bear growled. Enya gave the bear a little smile. 'The company I am traveling in is a merry couple. There is a hobbit, a wizard and a dozen men from my kin. They are all very dear to me.' The bear narrowed his eyes. 'Are they like you?' 'In a way.' Enya said cautiously. 'But I love every single one of them, so I beg you not to hurt them.' She bit her tongue because she did and didn’t want to add that the bear was welcome to kill the other female in the group. The bear let out a low, lazy growl and nodded. 'You are safe for tonight. Get some rest.' He slowly got up. 'Wait!' Enya said. 'You didn’t tell me your name.' 'Beorn.' The bear answered and turned his back to her.

Enya stared at him as he disappeared in the thick foliage. She sat in the meadow, too shocked to move. What just happened? She just had a conversation with a bear! And he sat down while doing so! Enya frowned. The experience was frightening and hilarious at the same time. She scrambled her mind together and got up. She felt somewhat unstable and had great difficulty standing on her feet. She stumbled into the courtyard again and leaned at the gate post. She was tired. She hoped she could reach the door without collapsing down. She wanted to take another step when suddenly the doors of the house flung open and Thorin ran towards her. Before she could protest, he picked her up and held her in his arms. Why would he even bother to...? Enya decided that she actually didn't care, so instead of asking him what he was doing, she took advantage of the situation and snuggled her head into his neck. She closed her eyes. He was out of her league, but still she would trade her soul to be in his arms forever. Unfortunately, in a matter of moments, she found herself in the house, surrounded by muttering dwarves. Thorin gently lowered her to a soft bed made out of straw, but his face was unreadable. Enya wanted to talk to him, but her mind dozed off to a place where she could not reach him. Instead she dreamt of his sturdy arms that held her so tightly.

Enya did not know for how long she slept, but when she opened her eyes Ori and Bilbo were by her side. Thorin sat further away and seemed to have a serious conversation with Dolvira. Dolvira watched Enya with narrowed eyes. Enya rolled hers and clenched her teeth. She would love to show that wench what fire witches were made of. 'She is alive!' Ori beamed. Enya smiled a little. 'Of course I am.' 'Welcome back, miss Enya' Bilbo whispered. 'How are you feeling?' Gandalf asked as he towered over her. 'I am fine.' Enya said as she hid a big yawn. 'I am sorry I dozed off, but I felt so drained!' 'Reasoning with a skin changer while they are in their animal form asks a great deal of anyone's energy.' Gandalf mused. 'Most people don't live to tell the tale. I was afraid he would kill you.' 'We all were.' Bilbo whispered. 'You saved us and we were unable to help you.' Enya smiled and held the hobbit's hand. 'It is alright, Bilbo. It was my choice, my risk. I figured I alone stood a better chance against a huge bear than you, Ori and our lovable newest family member.' She glanced over at the spot where Thorin and Dolvira sat. Thorin looked back and his eyes betrayed how he felt about her little rescue mission. He was furious she put her life on the line. For others. The third time in two days. Enya bit her lip. She surely would hear about it soon enough. 'What did you talk about?' Gandalf asked and distracted her from Thorin's gaze. 'He asked my name. And who I traveled with. He told me he was not overly fond of dwarves, but I begged him not to hurt any of you. He then told me we would be safe for the night.' Enya answered. 'Good' the wizard said. 'That is very good. Then we should rest.' He walked away from her and Bilbo was the last one sitting at her side. Enya looked at the spot where Thorin should be, but he was gone. Dolvira was still there though. 'They had to hold him down, you know.' The hobbit whispered. 'Wait, what?' Enya asked. 'Who?' Bilbo smiled. 'Thorin. After Ori and I snatched Dolvira from the garden and came in, we had to close the door. It took five of us to keep him inside. He wanted to go outside, to you.' Enya suddenly forgot the ability to speak and stared at the hobbit. Would Thorin really display any affection to her (was it still even there?) that openly? 'He didn't tell us anything, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He really thought you would die.' Enya sat up straight and frowned. Bilbo chuckled. 'You should have seen his face when Dolvira told him that it was your own stupid recklessness that lead you into this situation and that we had to wait a while before we should get your dead body out of there.' 'Yeah, that sounds exactly like our lovely Dolly. She told me that I should let the real warriors handle the situation.' 'She doesn't like you, you know.' Bilbo said quietly. 'I think she sees that Thorin is in love with you. 'No, he is not. She is his love, he still loves her.' She whispered. 'Besides, he hates me. He is always angry at me when I'm around. Even if I'm just... breathing.' 'Because he hates the fact that you have an huge effect on him.' Bilbo mused. ‘He doesn’t like these feelings he has for you one bit. He is afraid to get hurt.’ 'How do you know these-' Enya started. Bilbo smiled. 'I do observe all of you. And correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem quite in love with him as well.' Enya blushed. 'I might be. But it is a hopeless case. Thorin and Dolvira belong together. And I'm just...' she trailed off. Bilbo shook his head and got up on his feet. 'I believe Dolvira did something to Thorin he will never be able to forgive her.' ‘Why?’ Enya asked. ‘Just a hunch.’ Bilbo answered and smiled. Enya bit her lip and watched Bilbo as he joined the company again. She stared at the roof and pondered about all the information given to her.

Enya sat alone in the courtyard. Everyone preferred staying inside. They all feared Beorn would return. Enya knew she was safe from the skin changer and had chosen a quiet spot to sit in. She needed to think. She had been able to use the powers of the wind today, and it had felt different than her fire and ice. Enya concentrated, but nothing happened. She sighed. Well maybe she could try later, when she wasn’t as tired.

‘What is wrong with you, pretty face?’ Dolvira appeared from the house and walked up to her. ‘You let the bear go. You didn’t even kill it. What kind of a weak witch are you?’ Enya tried to steady her breathing. She didn’t want to end up in a vicious catfight again, but Dolvira gave her a hard time. She wanted to smack that face so badly. ‘Oh I would love to explain my motivations, but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t understand.’ Enya answered and put on her overly sweet tone she reserved for people that annoyed her. ‘So don’t waste your time on me, love.’ ‘I demand an answer.’ Dolvira bellowed. ‘Demand all you want, miss Dolly the commander.’ Enya grumbled. ‘I am not one of your soldiers and I owe you nothing.’ She stood up and faced Dolvira. She took a deep breath and told her calmly: ‘In fact, I saved your life. Twice. So I don’t think it is righteous you decide to boss me around with that attitude of yours.’ ‘In both situations I didn't need you saving me.’ Dolvira hissed. ‘I outlived far more precarious situations than you.’ ‘How are you so sure about that? You don’t know anything about me.’

In her head, Enya counted til ten. When she reached that number, she concluded she better count till thousand. It took everything of her not to scream.

Dolvira curved her mouth into a devious smile. ‘Because I am much more mature than you. I’ve seen war, battles. I lost people I cared about. You on the other hand are a little brainless whore with no backbone. I wouldn’t have hesitated and killed that cursed creature in an instant.’ ‘CURSED CREATURE?’

Dolvira could insult Enya all she wanted, she would cope with that. But not if she dragged others in the fight who weren’t even there to defend themselves. She cursed herself for being so head-strong and passionate about her morals, but she could not help herself. Dolvira was crossing a line when she decided to insult their host, and she was not letting that pass easily. ‘YOU THINK EVERYTHING YOU DON’T KNOW IS CURSED, DON’T YOU?’ She snapped. ‘YOU ARE SO NARROW-MINDED, LADY COMMANDER!’ ‘ME?’ Dolvira screamed. ‘YOU ARE-’ Enya walked away and held her hands against her ears when Dolvira decided to follow her. She didn’t want to know what the vile woman said. Enya folded her arms, ignored all the insults and abusive words and waited. When Dolvira finally took a deep breath, Enya got her chance. ‘You done?’ Enya scorched. ‘As much as I want to curse you with the most vile things on this earth, I won’t.’ She took a second before she started. ‘Firstly I think you are wrong to insult our host and call him a cursed creature. He is a brave soul and is kind enough to offer us shelter. Secondly you are deadly wrong about me too. I fought my own battles, although they may not always have been of such a physical nature as yours.’ Dolvira watched her and pure hatred was displayed on her face. ‘Thirdly, you think you are brave, courageous even, because you want to kill everything that differs from your points of view. Let me tell you that true courage lies in the fact that you know when to spare a life, rather than to take one.’ Enya controlled her breathing and knew grandma Gigi would be so proud of her. ‘You think you know true courage?’ Dolvira hissed. ‘You think you know our world, our customs, our laws?’’ ‘I might not be totally familiar with the ancient laws of my people, but I’m learning.’ Enya admitted. Dolvira smiled. ‘You burst into our world and think you can win all of us over with a smile from that pretty face of yours, but let me tell you this. You’ll never fit in. You are a filthy half blood and you know it. You’ll never be good enough for Thorin.’ Dolvira knew she hit her mark and laughed. ‘You know I’m right. Stop dreaming about being his queen, pretty face. I am the one. I am his love and I always have been, long before you even were born.’ Enya sighed and watched her hands as they were shaking. She had to control her emotions or she would set the whole property ablaze. She could not allow that damned woman to open old wounds. To prey on her insecurities like she was a fucking deer that needed to be brought down. She had to resist the urge to give in to her anger. But Dolvira wasn’t about to give her a rest. She had to put salt in the wounds. ‘You won’t be able to satisfy him like I can. Only real dwarf women possess these abilities. Let’s face it, you’re not desirable. Thorin must think you are nothing more than a spoiled child without manners.’ Dolvira laughed again. ‘And without a proper figure.’ she added. ‘You are the last person who is entitled to tell me who I am or what my dreams are made of.’ Enya said and walked away from the fiery redhead.

‘DO NOT DARE TO TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!’ Dolvira screamed. ‘I just did.’ Enya whispered to herself and went for the gate when…

With a loud crack, one of Dolvira’s knives entered the wooden door post. It was inches away from Enya’s face. She closed her eyes and told herself that she couldn’t lose it. She had to…

No.

This was it.

Enya pulled the knife out of the door frame with ease before she faced Dolvira. Enough was enough. Enya knew Dolvira wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted. If a catfight really was what she aimed for, she could get it. ‘Let’s take it outside, sis.’ she hissed. ‘If you really want to bleed, I’ll gladly assist you.’ ‘I thought you would never have the nerve to ask.’ Dolvira smirked. ‘I would love to damage that face of yours.’ Both girls left the garden and entered the open field. They paced around each other. ‘No cheating.’ Dolvira said with a low voice. ‘No fire.’ Enya smiled and grabbed her sai. ‘No backstabbing, Dolly.’ Dolvira said nothing and eyed her. Enya took a deep breath and tried to remember every detail Dwalin ever told her. Don’t be predictable. Try to detect any weakness you might use. If you got time, let them attack you. They will be an easy target if they lunge at you, instead of the other way around. ‘I am going to hurt you’ Dolvira promised. Enya pressed her lips together. ‘I wouldn’t count on it, Dolly.’ ‘STOP CALLING ME DOLLY!’ The redhead screamed and she lunged at Enya. With a quick stroke from her sai Enya successfully blocked the attack. ‘Is that all you’ve got?’ she purred. Dolvira kept charging her and Enya jumped around the fierce warrior woman, either blocking or dodging her moves. Dolvira panted. ‘Is that your tactic, lass? You just keep defending yourself?’ The redhead took a few paces backwards and laughed. ‘Thorin doesn’t like women like you, who cannot fend for themselves. You are weak.’ Enya swung her sai in the air. ‘He doesn’t like girls who are all skin and bones, like you.’ Dolvira bickered. ‘When will the reality finally hit you?’ Enya was blinded by rage and she flew at the redhead, her sai ready to slice the woman open. Their weapons clashed with the brutal sound of metal against metal. Enya was pleased to discover that Dolvira was equally strong as Dwalin. Dolvira glanced at the property and sniggered. ‘Looks like we got ourselves an audience. Does that makes you nervous, pretty face?’ Enya shook her head as she paced around Dolvira. ‘Not really.’ She didn’t shift her attention. If she would see an angry look on Thorins’ face… Well, any expression should be enough to lose her focus. So instead of eyeing a breathtaking dwarf prince, Enya turned to his beloved counterpart and attacked her again. She would show that damned woman what real witches were made of.

Enya didn’t know how long they were battling each other, but somehow she managed to lose both her sai. She stood in front of Dolvira, weaponless. There was no way she would pick them up again. She had her dignity. ‘What are you going to do now?’ Dolvira smirked. Enya took a step back. ‘Giving up yet?’ the redhead said. Enya stretched the muscles in her arms. ‘You wish, Dolly.’ ‘Surrender. It is over. You’ve been stupid to lose track of your footwork.’ Dolvira licked her lips in anticipation. ‘You know…’ Enya began as she bumped her fists. ‘My ex-boyfriend was a prick. But at least he taught me how to fight with bear hands. And he dragged me to some of his martial arts classes, as they call it in my world.’ ‘Your hands or those martial arts are no match for the mightiness of my sword.’ Dolvira bragged. Enya showed her teeth. ‘Try.’ Dolvira launched her sword at Enya, but the latter one dove to the ground just outside its reach. With a quick kick from her feet Dolvira landed with a painful smack on the ground. Enya stood up and with a jerk from her arm she threw the sword in a tree before Dolvira could reach it. She giggled when Dolvira’s expression turned livid at the sight of her favorite weapon being stuck in a tree. Enya held up her hand and made sure it was also unreachable. A giant block of ice would surely prevent Dolvira from picking the weapon up again. ‘What did you do?’ the warrior woman screamed. ‘I said no FIRE!’ ‘This is no fire, Doll. This is ice.’ Enya said. ‘I hope your sword can handle a little coldness…’ Enya paced around her. ‘It’s a shame you forgot to watch your feet.’ ‘I can always also strangle you to death.’ Dolvira grunted. Enya laughed. ‘You can try, but I doubt you will succeed.’ She gave Dolvira some time to get up and stretched the muscles in her body while she waited. The redhead seemed pissed off. All she had to do was react do whatever Dolvira was going to do. With a loud cry, Dolvira went for Enya and tried to push her over. But Enya was prepared for that. She held her ground. ‘Roundhouse kick!’ Her mind screamed. ‘Do the roundhouse kick!’ She managed to take the redhead down with a kick from her leg. Although her martial arts teacher probably would have told her she had to work on the movement of her hips, Enya was pleased with the result. Dolvira was on the ground again. Enya was surprised when Dolvira suddenly grabbed her by her legs and took her down as well. She groaned in pain as she landed on the grass. ‘How about that?’ the warrior woman hissed. ‘Nice move.’ Enya admitted.

For a moment she thought it would be nice if Dolvira and herself could get along. She did miss girl talk. She could show the poor redhead how to do her brows and open up her face with a few neat tricks. Dolvira could teach her more about dwarf courtship and lovemaking. Her wish was quickly shattered when Dolvira grabbed her knife and pressed Enya on the ground.

Damn, the bitch was heavy.

‘I will destroy your pretty face, as if it’s the last thing I’ll ever do.’ The redhead stated. The knife came dangerously close to her cheek and Enya struggled with her both hands to not let it touch her skin. ‘After I’m done with you, Thorin won’t find you as attractive as before.’ Dolvira confessed. ‘Then he will stop drooling over you like an immature boy!’ ‘He does that?’ Enya whispered. The confession made her giggle uncontrollably. ‘Did he tell you that?’ ‘Bloody fool. Of course not!’ Dolvira snapped and pushed harder to reach Enya’s face with her blade. ‘But don’t you worry, pretty face’ the warrior woman added. ‘It ain’t love he got for you. It’s just lust.’ Enya raised one eyebrow. Did that bitch really have to spoil every moment? She concentrated. If she was fast, she could punch Dolvira in her face and knock her over. With all her strength she pushed the knife aside. Enya groaned as the end of the knife scraped alongside her skin and made a little wound on her jaw. Clearly she miscalculated the length of the blade. Enya ignored the pain and landed her fist on the warrior woman’s face. With a straight fling from her waist she threw Dolvira off her body. Taken off guard by the sudden movement, the redhead rolled over a few times.

Enya sighed and got up. This was getting nowhere. She was tired and had enough of this bickering and fighting. She eyed Dolvira. She had to do one more thing. With a loud yell she threw herself on the warrior woman and pinned her down on the ground. Her hands locked down the woman’s wrists and with her lower body she pressed Dolvira’s legs to the ground. The redhead struggled for freedom, but Enya held on tight. ‘You know, Dolly.’ She said. ‘It’s been a pleasure, but this fight is over.’ She quickly let go and got on her feet. As Enya walked away, she heard the warrior woman shuffling to get on her feet. Enya rolled her eyes.

3…2…1…

She turned and instinctively she made a wall made of ice between them. Dolvira groaned as she hit the wall and fell over again. ‘I told you I was done!’ Enya hissed. ‘I will kill you!’ Dolvira screamed. ‘No, you won’t.’ Enya said. ‘I played fair this time. Next time you sneak up on me, I will use my fire. And it will scorch you.’ Enya turned again and walked up to the courtyard. Thirteen dwarves, one hobbit and a wizard were in the doorway and stared at her in admiration. Enya tilted her head and glanced over at the place where Thorin stood. He said nothing, but his gaze burnt through her soul. His expression was... Wait, was he mad at her again? Enya blushed. No matter what she did, he always seemed to find a reason to be angry at her. Dwalin was the first one of the group to move as she came closer and he gave her a big manly dwarf hug. ‘I am relieved to see my lessons weren’t a waste of time.’ He said and Enya could see in his eyes how proud he was. ‘You fought very well, lass.’ ‘Next time don’t lose your weapons.’ Kíli teased. ‘Make sure you got extra knives hidden in your clothes!’ Fíli added. ‘And don’t get hurt, so I won’t have to fix you up.’ Oín grumbled, but the little curving of his mouth told her he too was proud. Enya laughed. ‘I will make sure to remember all this things when I face off someone else next time.’ ‘Don’t get overexcited, lassie.’ Gloín said. The dwarves took her inside and Enya complained as Oín cleaned her wound and Bofur tried to distract her from the pain with some dirty jokes. After her ordeal Gandalf talked to Enya about how brave she had been, but that she really needed to control her feelings in order to retain stable. Bilbo was observing them like he always did. He sat somewhat further away and surprised the group with funny comments and witty remarks. The only dwarf missing, was a certain hot prince. Enya suspected he and Dolvira were together. Somewhere outside. She tried not to think about it too much, but it lingered in the back of her mind. What would they discuss?

‘Good evening, miss.' Enya was startled by the sudden presence of a certain dwarf prince and almost jumped on her feet. Almost. She had been sitting just outside the safe courtyard and rummaged about the events that had passed today. A jug of beer laid next to her. 'Hey.' she said and stared at her hands. She was not in the mood for a conversation with Thorin. The euphoria of more or less winning the battle against Dolvira had faded and left her tired, confused and sad. Although she kicked the redhead’s ass, she felt like she lost something far more important. Dolvira had been able to mess with her head, and that fact terrified her. Enya kept rummaging about the stuff lady commander told her today. Did Thorin really think she was nothing more than a spoiled child? Did he really dislike her figure (or, as Dolvira put it, the lack of a figure) that much? And if he even did like her, was is all just lust? Enya groaned. She just wanted to disappear for a few days. Get lost in the wild. Feel depressed and insecure. Cry her eyes out. 'How do you know that bear won't creep on you and rip your head off?' Thorin asked and with his eyes he scouted the forest. 'It is risky to be out here, miss.' Enya shrugged. 'Maybe I like living on the edge. Besides, it wouldn't matter if I died.' Thorin frowned and sat down. 'Something is bothering you. Tell me.' But Enya was in no mood to share. 'Oh.' She sighed. 'Nothing. I sometimes want to hear my own thoughts instead of thirteen or even fourteen snoring dwarves.' Thorin chuckled. 'You should be happy there's only thirteen of us. Imagine a whole army of soldiers.' Enya giggled. 'Thirteen is enough, thank you very much. I don't think I would survive more than one Bombur.' They both were silent for a few minutes and Enya watched the stars. She felt Thorins' gaze lingering on her skin and it made her yearn for his touch. Oh sweet lord, could he possibly make this any harder? Why did he seek out her company tonight?

'What is on your mind, miss?' He asked. 'I am thinking about leaving.' Enya admitted and she refused to look into his eyes.

She meant it. All this drama was distracting the company from their true purpose. Of course she could ask Thorin to dismiss Dolvira, but Enya felt that the redhead would be more suitable for the burglar job. Moreover, Dolvira was familiar with Erebor and its grounds.

'You cannot leave.' Thorin said and his voice was lower than normal. 'You are bound by a contract.' 'Oh, and does that contract states that I am bound to the company of Thorin Oakenshield for the rest of my life, until I die?' She asked and her voice sounded more mean than she intended. 'Could be, but you wouldn't know because you didn't read it properly before signing it.' Thorin snapped. Enya turned to him. 'Fine. Burn me, I don’t care. Is this the part where you are going to lecture me about my so-called misdeeds of the few past days?' 'I planned that part, yes.' He admitted. 'You always put yourself in danger and I cannot allow that. You seem to have a tendency to end up in situations that are far too dangerous for you to handle.' 'Because of that tendency you speak of, I saved three lives today. And, YOUR ROYAL ASS, twice.' She said. 'You were reckless. I didn’t ask you to do these things!' He shot back. 'And to make matters worse you even dared to ignore my orders today.'

Oh, the order to come back and stay away from a certain huge bear...

'What about it?' She asked. ‘What does that matter?’ 'I need SANE and RESPONSIBLE men in my company! WHO DO FOLLOW MY LEAD WHEN I SAY SO!' Thorin shouted. 'YOU NEED TO BEHAVE!' ‘I need to BEHAVE?’ Enya hissed. ‘What about your girlfriend? She is the one who won’t STOP BOTHERING ME!’ ‘Don’t even let me start about that, miss.’ Thorin bit back. ‘You two are constantly quarrelling and I’m getting sick of that. You should know better.’ ‘I SHOULD KNOW BETTER?’ ‘Yes.’ Thorin said and he squared his jaw. 'We need to be sure that you won't do anything STUPID again. Like facing Dolvira today, what were you thinking?' ‘She crossed a line.’ Enya growled. ‘Even if she crossed a hundred lines, it should NOT HAVE MATTERED.’ Thorin bickered. ‘You shouldn’t allow her to mess with your mind like that.’ ‘SO YOU BLAME ME FOR THE FACT THAT SHE IS MESSING WITH MY MIND?’ Enya yelled. ‘YES! BECAUSE YOU DECIDED TO REACT IRRESPONSIBLE!’ He screamed back. ‘YOU HAVE NO SELF-CONTROL. I NEED YOU TO BEHAVE.’ ‘WHY AM I THE ONE WHO ALWAYS SUFFERING FROM YOUR WRATH?’ Enya snapped. ‘Because. You. Do. Everything. Wrong.’ Thorin hissed and Enya heard he had great difficulty to keep his voice even.

‘That’s it.’ Enya said and she stood up. ‘Congratulations sir Oakenshield, I’m done. I’m outta here.’ She grabbed her traveling bag and paced away, ready to trail off in the woods and never encounter that frustrating dwarf leader again. She could not handle it. Not now.

‘Don’t you dare defy my orders.’ The growl that made her stop was low and very sexy. Primal. He was right behind her. She could feel her body aching with desire. ‘I told you to stay.’ He groaned. Enya turned and her anger made her feel braver than she normally would be. The way he eyed her made her almost explode. Hallelujah, this was Thorin Oakenshields’ panties shredding look in full glory. She received hundred percent of its full potential. There was no escaping this. Enya bit her lip furiously. She had to be very brave now. He didn’t want her to defy him? Well, that was exactly what she was going to do then. ‘Or what?’ she tilted her head. ‘What are you going to do?’ Thorin squared his jaw. ‘Then I have to show you who is in charge.’ ‘Do you think I’m afraid of you?’ she said. ‘You should be.’ Thorin answered and narrowed his eyes. ‘You have no idea what I can do to you.’ Enya took her time to answer and slowly bit her lip. Her abdomen immediately tightened when she detected his eyes were darkened with lust. If he stared at her like that for just a few minutes, she would come undone right before him. ‘Try me.’ She whispered. ‘Gladly.’

He walked up to her. With his strong muscles Thorin pushed her against one of the nearby trees. Enya exhaled slowly and waited. Why did he always push her against trees? She was not too sure what he was up to… but is wasn’t anything decent. His hands were in her hair and his beautiful eyes were gazing in hers. He pressed his muscular body tightly to hers and she could not move. Enya felt his strained muscles and almost let out a loud moan when she felt his hard member pushing against her.

OH!

‘YOU!’ Thorin hissed. ‘You are so complex, so different. Mesmerizing. So delicate. My men are enchanted by you. They adore you. You seduce me and annoy me with every breath you take. You dare to defy me and I don’t like that.' ‘You are a breathtaking sexy bastard and I hate you with the fire of a thousand suns!’ Enya bickered. His lips were on hers before she could declare how much she hated him even more. His tongue licked her bottom lip and he forced himself into her mouth. Enya’s fury melted down into a hot mess as he deepened the kiss and their tongues were intertwined in a fight for dominance. His hands pulled her head closer and clawed in her hair. Dear sweet god, yes! Enya groaned as he suddenly let go and gasped when he proceeded by leaving his marks on her neck. He kissed, licked and bit every patch of skin he could reach. The intense passion made her body quiver with delight and she wanted him to fill her up with his hardness. His hands pulled away parts of her shirt and… Enya put her nails in his back and moaned his name. ‘Thorin! OH GOD!’

As if struck by lightning, he stopped. ‘You are liking this far too much.’ he groaned and a naughty smile was displayed on his lips. Enya bit her lip. ‘Oh Thorin, please.’ ‘No. You're under my command.' He let go of her and took a step back. ‘And I can tell you that’s all you're getting, miss.’ He turned and she watched him disappearing behind the foliage. That was the fucking THIRD TIME he left her standing against the tree, trembling, shaking as the adrenaline rushed through her blood. Enya sat down and tried to steady her breathing. Her body was furious he had turned her on and then refused to continue with what he had been doing. He shouldn't have stopped kissing his way down… Enya blushed and her abdomen twitched. Oh… She wondered if he would allow this ever to happen again. Maybe she should try to annoy him some more. Defying other commands…

Enya bit her lip. She knew one thing for certain. He had her chained.

She now definitely was not leaving…

[god-hunter]

Doctor Strange #22

This issue basically picks up where the last one left off.  Doctor Strange and Spider Woman have found a strange ally in Wilson Fisk, considering their current circumstances.  So now, they’re going to use this asset as their best resource for survival.  At least for the moment.

[Spoilers]

We pick up where we left off.  The city is flooded with monsters, and Strange can’t do this alone.  So he, Jessica and Ben Urich follow King Pin down to a Subway, where he proceeds to drive them on a cart and explain to them the nature of their new business partnership.

“I’m a Pragmatist. A Businessman. And nothing more.  Nothing less.  And Manhattan is just as much my home as it is yours.  The darkness is destroying everything I hold dear and I will not allow that to continue.”

Nice.  I dig it.

“Color me intrigued,” Stephen says as their adventure begins.

There’s a good squabble between Urich and Fisk who hates the fact that they’re working together.  But eventually, Fisk ends up driving them to the inside of a building.

[Wait a minute.  When did we make that transition?]

I guess it’s directly connected to the Subway.  And why not?  His building is the ONLY one in New York that is untouched.  Pristine.  And it’s because he has money.  And he’s paid for protection.  This is no secret as he fully admits it to them.

“You’re offering us what, then? A safe house?” Stephen asks, annoyed.

“...There’s magic only money can buy... I know where it’s kept.  I can get us through the door.”

[Nice.  Now we’re talkin’]

We get some neat continuity of Mordo reporting in to Cap & Zero, and being super cavalier about it.  To the point where Cap goes, “Boy, I hate that guy,” after the report.

[I never understand Cap in any of these enemy interactions.  He’s demanding they do bad stuff to his friends, but then also restricting them to not killing them.  I mean, of course that’s a good thing, but if that’s the case, why do the bad thing in the first place?  It doesn’t make sense...]

Anyway, I really appreciated the continuity of Mordo trying to grab food in Stephen’s fridge and having to wrestle with tentacles and monstrous mouths.  I liked his taunting interactions with a silent captive Daredevil moreso.

“Since you’re clearly in no mood to chat... I thought we might sit and watch... their capture.”

He displays Stephen, Jess, Urich and Kingpin on a monitor with a snap of the fingers.  [...Magic Monitor?]

There’s some sweet action as they get out of the Subway/Building and back up to the city.  There’s a series of ‘mindless ones’ which sound familiar.  [...From Original Sin?] that they have to fight.

Mordo taunts away.  “Just you wait, Daredevil. All the best violence is yet to come.”

Well... I wouldn’t call it the best, but.. Kingpin sort of lured them into a trap, unwillingly.  He knew there was a witch there that was protective of her magic, and just neglected to tell them, because he figured she’d cooperate, or they’d figure it out.

Well.. they figured it out, and it was actually very cool to see Stephen go through tactics in narrative.  He took a minimalist approach.

“She goes big, so I go small.  It’s a simple boxing strategy.  There’s no need to trade haymakers in the center of the ring... When I can simply side step and jab.”

This is the type of stuff that I love reading in comics.  Kudos to Hopeless here!!

He basically got the Witch to harm herself more, by ramming into walls when she attempted to crash into him as a bull.  (Shapeshifting and all of that.)

“Be smart, Witch.  Crack the vault. Let us help you.”  Kingpin demands.

“Never!” She resists.

I can’t ignore a Lord of The Rings reference that was purposefully mistaken as Star Wars by Jessica here.  It was pretty funny.  “Holy Hell, she went full Gandalf!” Kingpin said, followed by her saying, “Did the Kingpin just make a Star Wars reference?”  Urich just goes, “Shh... No.”

That kind of quick witted humor also makes for a fun book.

Anyway, they end up getting through the vault, which turned out to be in it’s own pocket dimension.  And upon laying eyes on the magical items in the room, while the others may be impressed, Stephen is mortified.  “Don’t. Touch! ANYYTHIIINNGG!”

He uses some crazy wind move on them and he really means business.

I really appreciated Jess going, “What the [fuck] Doc?!”

He warns them that this is Black Magic, or worse.  “Sorcery comes at a cost and we are not prepared to pay these prices.”

[After Bendis and Hickman’s run of New Avengers, we know that’s true.]

Fisk ignores him and grabs an item though.  It looks like this horned skull, or whatever.  And he blasts a Mindless one with it, which seems to crumple the beast.

“Problem solved.  You’re welcome.”  He says with an evil glare in his eye.

-To be Continued.-

Cool!

Fisk is their ally for now, but definitely not to be trusted.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m thoroughly enjoying this tie-in.

I may or may not have liked it better if Aaron continued on and did the tie-in, but something tells me, that might be exactly why he left.

It’s no secret that Marvel is shifting their direction after this event, so.. maybe Aaron saw this as the perfect time to bow out.  Before throwing into a story that he’d be forced to write.  Who knows.

Either way, Hopeless has eagerly taken on the mantle, and for now, he’s delivering.  And for that I am grateful.

Until Doctor Strange #23!

[garden-ghoul]

two blogs part 4

“for best effect listen to the themes of the rohirrim while reading this. the rockin violin solos are all too short, eheu. I wonder what instruments the Rohirrim actually play, how amazing would it be if the soundtrack were entirely made of instruments specific to the people of whatever location they’re in?”

let’s take a soothing sleepy trip to scenic

HELM’S DEEP

... since I only ever listened to audiobooks of this I didn’t realize that it was the deep of Helm. Who’s Helm? I hope that Tolkien in his pseudo-Hugo-esque fashion will have some characters discuss the history and naming of Helm’s Deep. As our heroes ride northwest along the foot of the White Mountains, Gandalf asks Legolas what he can see at Isengard. The answer: something is veiling his sight with shadow. Also I’m kind of sad that we don’t get any elves with glasses because perfect sight is a racial trait... no wait what if a lot of elves need reading glasses because they’re farsighted. LEGOLAS WITH READING GLASSES. Galadriel needs them too but she doesn’t notice because she’s never tried to read anything since she’s a jock.

As the second day of their riding drew on, the heaviness in the air increased. In the afternoon the dark clouds began to overtake them: a sombre canopy with great billowing edges flecked with dazzling light. The sun went down, blood-red in a smoking haze.

I’m kind of weirdly gratified that Tolkien recognizes the atmospheric conditions that result in a red sunset. You can’t just go around declaring bloody sunsets willy-nilly! The sun looks red when scattered through particulates! I’m trying to remember right now which sizes of particulates, which I should know bc I had a job in quantum materials last summer, but I’m really in more of a mythic mindset at the moment. Oh well. The king’s party meets the party defending Rohan from the soldiers and hill-men of Isengard. They’re going to withdraw to Helm’s Deep... I don’t know exactly what Saruman wants? Is he just trying to wipe the Rohirrim out, or is he looking for some kind of resource they have?

Aha! It turns out Tolkien is going to go full Hugo and not even bother putting his exposition in dialogue form. Helm’s Deep is behind a coomb (a coomb!!) that lets into a gorge in the “crow-haunted cliffs” (yess). Gorge implies a river, right? And there’s also a fort there. I feel like a crow-haunted gorge is the perfect place for a fort. It’s named after HELM THE HAMMERHAND (YES!) and it’s also known as the Hornburg because canyon acoustic make warhorns echo imposingly (hell yes). And now as the king’s party (minus Gandalf, who has some kind of errand to run--maybe he’s going to bring Lorien elves to help out?) rides toward the Deep, they hear “the rumor of war behind them.” This is good dictionnnn I love “the rumor of war.” I love the concept of “rumor” as an indistinct sound that conveys imprecisely that war is coming, in the same way that a game of telephone conveys imprecisely the phrase “at dawn on the third day, look to the east.” I’m being weird. whatever. So much time has been spent in this chapter before they even get to Helm’s Deep (or maybe I’m blogging too much) BUT here we have another thing, which is that the rumor of war is mostly... singing. They know the orcs by their singing (hi Orcsong!) “They saw torches countless points of fiery light upon the black fields behind, scattered like red flowers.” What a pretty image. Just so y’all know, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna write orc fanfictions.

Gimli at least is pleased to come to Helm’s Dike.

'This is more to my liking,' said the dwarf, stamping on the stones. 'Ever my heart rises as we draw near the mountains. There is good rock here. This country has tough bones. I felt them in my feet as we came up from the dike. Give me a year and a hundred of my kin and I would make this a place that armies would break upon like water.'

'I do not doubt it,' said Legolas. 'But you are a dwarf, and dwarves are strange folk. I do not like this place, and I shall like it no more by the light of day. But you comfort me, Gimli, and I am glad to have you standing nigh with your stout legs and your hard axe. I wish there were more of your kin among us.’

That’s gay. ::) Also Gimli feeling out the material properties of the stone by stomping on it. He is also both sleepy and restless, a feeling I can relate to constantly. Then the orcs show up; there’s a neat bit of cinematography with a flash of lightning and the word “boiling.” You’ll have to imagine it. Aragorn and Eomer are standing next to each other yelling about their swords. I like this bit:

A shout went up from wall and tower: 'Andúril! Andúril goes to war. The Blade that was Broken shines again!'

because it’s really ambiguous whether it’s like, just Aragorn shouting this. Or he went around talking up his sword and now everyone’s really excited about it? Aragorn shut up about your sword for five minutes. Your worth is not determined by the pedigree of your blade. Anyway there’s a lot of fighting. Everyone is exhausted. Gimli is missing. Legolas is pretending he’s not worried; no, he just really wants to tell Gimli that he has now killed thirty-nine people. They’re having a creepy contest. Aren’t both their peoples supposed to be generally peaceable?? What is wrong with them? Theoden frets, feeling imprisoned and unhopeful about his men’s chances. No, he will ride out. And Aragorn son of Arathorn will ride with him!

At dawn Aragorn stands on the wall, while the Uruk-hai politely inform him, several times, that they are the fighting Uruk-hai and they have a lot of guys to kill him with. Hey, did you know they are the fighting Uruk-hai? Also all their dialogue seems to be attributed to multiple people at once, so one can only imagine them chorusing “We are the fighting Uruk-hai!” like schoolchildren.

Aragorn jumps down just as they blow up the part of the wall he was standing on, and goes to find Theoden so they can Ride Forth. As they do they realize a forest has appeared in the coomb. The enemy forces outside are so not prepared to face cavalry, they are so scared. AND Gandalf is back! AND! He brought Erkenbrand, a Rohir who they were making a really big deal of earlier but I didn’t bother to blog about it because he didn’t seem important.

All right that was way too much blogging for a chapter with so little content. Let’s get on our way on

THE ROAD TO ISENGARD

It turns out that “at dawn on the third day, look to the east” WAS the result of a hilarious game of telephone:

'Unlooked-for?' said Gandalf. 'I said that I would return and meet you here.'

'But you did not name the hour, nor foretell the manner of your coming.’

Lmao.

Oh, I also missed the fact that during the chapter break (while my brain was in the bathroom at the movie theater of life) the Rohirrim won the battle. Gandalf wants to take everyone to Isengard to beat up Saruman and call him mean names, which I wholly support. I also like that he devotes a good amount of text to the cleanup and burial after the battle. Legolas and Gimli banter some more about how much [trees/caves] make them uncomfortable and how they would love to live forever in [caves/trees]. Did Tolkien actually just have them become friends to be a Comic Cultural Understanding Duo. Gimli goes on for a good while about how beautiful the cave system of Helm’s Deep is. He is sooooo into these caves, it’s really endearing. The caves are full of gorgeous natural rock formations (sorry this is a big pull quote coming up, but it’s good and beautiful and gay so pls read it)--

'No, you do not understand,' said Gimli. 'No dwarf could be unmoved by such loveliness. None of Durin's race would mine those caves for stones or ore, not if diamonds and gold could be got there. Do you cut down groves of blossoming trees in the spring-time for firewood? We would tend these glades of flowering stone, not quarry them. With cautious skill, tap by tap - a small chip of rock and no more, perhaps, in a whole anxious day - so we could work, and as the years went by, we should open up new ways, and display far chambers that are still dark, glimpsed only as a void beyond fissures in the rock. And lights, Legolas! We should make lights, such lamps as once shone in Khazad-dûm; and when we wished we would drive away the night that has lain there since the hills were made; and when we desired rest, we would let the night return.'

'You move me, Gimli,' said Legolas. 'I have never heard you speak like this before. Almost you make me regret that I have not seen these caves. Come! Let us make this bargain-if we both return safe out of the perils that await us, we will journey for a while together. You shall visit Fangorn with me, and then I will come with you to see Helm's Deep.'

There’s some more stuff I count of little consequence, some ents, some bodies, a river that isn’t. They camp out for the night and a great blackness passes by them. This was actually a bunch of ents, I’m not sure how they failed to notice. Even on the blackest night, wouldn’t you be able to tell if trees were walking past you? Also the river suddenly comes back. Strange times, strange times. They get up and keep riding.

Suddenly a tall pillar loomed up before them. It was black; and set upon it was a great stone, carved and painted in the likeness of a long White Hand. Its finger pointed north. Not far now they knew that the gates of Isengard must stand.

This is such a good image.

The plain, too, was bored and delved. Shafts were driven deep into the ground; their upper ends were covered by low mounds and domes of stone, so that in the moonlight the Ring of Isengard looked like a graveyard of unquiet dead--for the ground trembled.

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IMAGE. Also you can tell Saruman is evil because he outlawed plants. Look, even evil people still need green stuff to live. I was thinking earlier today about the trauma of being forced to live in cities where (in addition to all the other reasons it is bad) there are not many green things. Tolkien uses “hating plants” as a signifier of evil and inhumanity, and like, I guess. But if you’re going to posit all these thinking peoples... actually you know humans have a need for green stuffs because of where they were made. Maybe orcs really do not like green stuffs, and it makes them uneasy, because they were made specifically for the purpose of destroying nice things. So their psyches were made to match. IDK what Saruman’s problem is. Tell me about maia psychology, Johnald.

...and within the circle of Isengard’s walls, a sea of boiling water, filled with flotsam and jetsam. Oh shoot that would have been a great transition, I think that’s the title of the next chapter. No matter, the point is it’s very confusing to Theoden and his men to look on the stronghold of Saruman utterly shattered, and see no-one who could have done it... except two very small people sitting on a ruined wall, picnicking and smoking.

'Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!' he said. 'We are the doorwardens. Meriadoc, son of Saradoc is my name; and my companion, who, alas! is overcome with weariness' - here he gave the other a dig with his foot - 'is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the house of Took. Far in the North is our home.’

This cheeky lad. Bless you Meriadoc. Theoden introduces himself, and Merry for some reason starts infodumping about the history of pipeweed in the Shire. But now is not the time, says Gandalf!! We need to go see Treebeard >::(

'Farewell, my hobbits!’ said Théoden. ‘May we meet again in my house! There you shall sit beside me and tell me all that your hearts desire: the deeds of your grandsires, as far as you can reckon them; and we will speak also of Tobold the Old and his herb-lore. Farewell!'

The hobbits bowed low. 'So that is the King of Rohan!' said Pippin in an undertone. 'A fine old fellow. Very polite.'

[annajamesjournalist-blog]

Here's What You Should Know About That Immersive "Moulin Rouge" Production

For Buzzfeed

Graphic: Rebecca Hendin/Buzzfeed

This is a story about truth, beauty, and freedom, but above all it’s a story about love. It’s also a story about growing up, immersive theatre, art as revolution, and the current Secret Cinema production of Moulin Rouge.

I first watched Moulin Rouge 15 years ago; it was 2002 and I was 15. I was very tall, very ginger, and very awkward, and I grew up as part of a small, fundamentalist Christian church whose views on gender and sexuality would politely be called traditional – I spent all of my Sundays in services where women weren’t allowed to speak. All of this added an intensity to the already thorny mix of contradictory messages that all teenage girls grapple with. I was by no means unhappy and was – and still am – part of a close, loving family. But I was deeply uncomfortable in my own skin, terrified of my own body, and wrangling a lot of internalised sexism in the years before helpful YouTube tutorials or indeed any online communities where I might find another way of being.

And so of course I turned to stories – books in particular. I was not much of a discerning film watcher; our family favourites were George of the Jungle and The Sound of Music, but I read and wrote avidly. But then, one day while home ill from school, I watched a Blockbuster VHS of Moulin Rouge, purely because it was there and I was bored, and I fell in love. I can remember the experience of watching it in intense and specific detail, and I can still easily conjure up the feeling as it ended, watching every moment of the credits, not wanting it to end. I fell for it with the intensity that comes only with the things you first encounter as a teenager.

At the time I wasn’t analysing why I’d connected so fiercely with the film, but in hindsight it’s almost embarrassingly obvious. Firstly there was Nicole Kidman as beautiful but doomed courtesan Satine. Seeing that level of gingerness and confidence existing simultaneously was addictive to me; she is so tall and ginger but so beautiful and elegant, and I was utterly entranced. Not to mention her big solo is literally called One Day I’ll Fly Away. And then there’s the penniless writer Christian, played by Ewan McGregor, who leaves his traditional, safe life to seek truth, beauty, freedom, and love in Paris surrounded by artists, bohemians, and revolutionaries. (McGregor, or rather McGregor’s singing voice, certainly added something too.) And finally there’s Baz Luhrmann’s version of the Moulin Rouge itself, a place of dancing, freedom, and abandon. Everything about the film was quixotic to me.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve watched Moulin Rouge; the songs and the script are second nature to me. I make niche jokes about it that my friends don’t get, and know an unusually large amount of trivia from watching the extensive extras on the special edition DVD. It’s played on loop in the background since I first discovered it; through my teenage years, going to university, leaving the church, embracing my hair, moving to London. It never stopped being my favourite film, but somewhere along the line of growing up, it lost some of its potency: I watched it for fun but it didn’t come with the rich hope of my teenage viewings.

At the end of 2016, Secret Cinema, an immersive theatre and film company, announced Moulin Rouge would be its next production, and I was thrilled. But the truth is, my adult self had lost sight how much the film had meant to me when I was a teenager. I also had very little idea of what to expect, having never been to a Secret Cinema film before. In my mind it was going to be a dress-up, singalong sort of situation, with actors playing out bits on stage, kind of like the interactive performances of Rocky Horror I’d been to. So, excited as I was while I got ready with my friends over a few bottles of prosecco, soundtrack blaring, nothing in me was prepared for how transformative the experience would prove to be.

More than a fancy dress singalong in every way, Secret Cinema has turned a huge space in east London into the streets of 1899 Montmartre. The night is a spectacular sensory ravishment from beginning to end, a shot of absinthe straight to the heart. There’s hours of open-ended exploring before the screening, where characters you feel you know so well are walking among the audience, talking and singing and dancing with you. It’s an intoxicating world where real life blurs with story. We duetted with the Duke, met a courtesan backstage at the Moulin Rouge, were taken to a secret bar by a drag queen, and became part of the beating heart of the bohemian revolution as we sang and danced and laughed and cried with nearly a thousand strangers.

And then, to a soundtrack that captures the elated anarchy of Luhrmann's film, we were transported to the Moulin Rouge itself as part of a sequence full of so much joy and magic that it is worth the ticket price alone. Part way through it one of the dancers beckoned me towards the stage, where the actor playing Moulin Rouge owner and impresario Harold Zidler held out a hand and pulled me up, dipping me into an over-the-top staged kiss. It passed in a blur of concentrating on not falling up the stairs and hearing my friends hollering from the front row in excitement. But there was a moment where the storyteller in me kicked in, I remembered what the movies have taught me, and I kicked out a foot pop just as a flash of a camera went off and the audience of the Moulin Rouge exploded in cheers. It’s the freeze frame in my mind that will forever be associated with Secret Cinema. And yes, it was just for a very quick set piece that happens every night and, yes, it was essentially random that I was stood in the right place, but imagine a character from your favourite film reaching a hand out and saying, come, be part of this story with us. It’s Hagrid opening Diagon Alley for you, or Gandalf knocking on your front door. It’s Jareth inviting you to waltz or Lucy Pevensie leading you into the wardrobe.

The person behind these moments is Fabien Riggall, the founder of Secret Cinema, a man entirely and sincerely invested in his audience. “We give so much love to the idea of what the audience feel – it’s always about the audience and how we take what people love and translate it into an experience which they can be part of,” he told me in May when we sat down to speak about this current production, and the bohemian ideals driving it forward. “I think incredibly intensely about what it means to take these stories that people adore and create something where people feel so joyous at the end of the night. Think of when we did Star Wars: These are people’s memories of their childhoods, of going to the cinema with their fathers.”

I was keen to ask Riggall why he chose Moulin Rouge, and how he reacts to the challenge of creating experiences for audiences who have such close emotional relationships to these stories. For him, the bohemian revolution is key and the hashtag they’ve chosen – #SocietyOfLove – is more than just a pithy phrase: “With every Secret Cinema we look at how the world feels, and what society is going through at that specific point. So with Moulin Rouge, it’s the current disenchantment, disenfranchisement, the breakdown of democracy, the increase in nationalism. It plays on all these themes that feel so relevant today: protest, revolution. We wanted to do something joyous, that celebrated multiculturalism, that allowed audiences to become part of a society of love versus a society of division and hate.”

Riggall, and therefore Secret Cinema, is unashamedly political. He cofounded the March for Europe against Brexit, and the company’s social channels are full of pleas for people to vote, to engage, and to empathise. This week, in the lead-up to the election, they’re showing I, Daniel Blake in London and Newcastle with free tickets for jobseekers and reduced prices for under-25s. Each night at the Moulin Rouge there is a collection for Help Refugees and an in-character speech from Zidler about tolerance and inclusivity is shouted to raised glasses and cheers of solidarity. Despite criticism for political rhetoric on the official Secret Cinema channels, for Riggall the idea of using story to make you see something another way is crucial: “I fear that people feel like culture’s become a commodity, it’s become art for art’s sake. But art can change the world. Art is political. When you watch a film or see a piece of art, or you’re inspired by little things, that is political. Everything is influencing someone over another thing. It’s so important to remember that whether it’s a theatre show or a book you can change the world.”

I’ve had mixed reactions when I’ve tried to articulate quite why Secret Cinema had such a profound effect on me. Many of my friends are writers, and they’ve understood it instantly, because they deal in the healing powers of stories themselves. (And a moment here to raise a glass of absinthe to my friends who came with me more than once: Here’s to friends who never make you feel silly for the things you love, and don’t just merrily enable you living out your teenage fantasies but cheer you on as they happen.) I needn’t have worried about trying to explain to Riggall why Secret Cinema meant so much to me, though. He gets it: “You should never underestimate stories, I think now more than ever. All that I see in the world is story; you’re telling me your story, I’m telling you mine. Why are people saying this is one of the best nights of their life? It’s the sense of story, the sense of wellbeing, the sense that you can reimagine another way.”

In many ways, Secret Cinema is an opportunity to throw off your inhibitions and reality and lose yourself, but it ended up giving me a way to find a bit of myself, as trite as that might sound. I felt as though I was coming full circle on the desperately lost teenager who first saw Moulin Rouge and felt her heart and her world get a little bigger. I cheerfully recognise the joyful absurdity of dealing with a religious childhood by dressing up as a turn-of-the-century Parisian courtesan in east London, and of course Secret Cinema is not a cure for anything – but it is a balm. Each time I’ve been it’s felt like a gift to my 15-year-old self, and I can’t help believing that there’s little lovelier than doing something for the teenager you used to be.

[entishramblings]

The Cruel Nature of the World [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: So here is another Legolas one shot because I am immensely skilled at procrastinating my fic and ignoring my ikr responsibilities!!! We love that!!!!

Request: anon — hii, if you’re taking requests can I ask for a Legolas X Reader where the reader is kind of touch starved...and really needs some soft gentle touches? Maybe one big with the fellowship she’s sitting next to him and something happens?

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) joins the fellowship and is focused on her own struggles. Legolas wants to comfort her. The fellowship teases him for being sweet on her.

Word count: 1,830

Warnings: themes of depression?

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

The moon had risen high against the blackness of the sky and it’s light pooled upon the weary group, offering solace from the dark. It was then when the fellowship finally decide to rest. Aragorn had picked a spot tucked into the side of a rather large mountain, where the vastness of the stone wall and adjacent forestry provided cover from those who might seek what they carried. The group could be seen from no sides and, quite frankly, the shelter was a comfort to them all.

Sam had built a fire and they eagerly gathered around it to siphon the warmth and eat a hearty meal. (Y/N) leaned her back against the sleek stone that towered above them and stretched her legs towards the flames. Her somber eyes gaze upon the stars while she waited patiently for a plate of food to be passed to her. Here, she let her mind wander.

The cruel nature of the world did not spare (Y/N). Her life was anything but easy. Alone and the run—where she hid from fear, from guilt, from regret, from her past. She was tired. Tired of the darkness that seemed to follow her through all the centuries that she had lived. Tired of all the death and destruction she witnessed. Tired of the pain. Tired of fighting. Tired of killing. There was no escaping it, so why had she even bothered concealing herself from the dreadfulness of it all? But now, it was unavoidable. The time had come to change direction—to sprint towards the ruthlessness of the shadows. That is why (Y/N) joined the journey to destroy the ring. That is why she chose to pledge her life to the quest.

The scent of crispy sausage and beans filled her nostrils as a plate was held before her, drawing her from her thoughts. She moved her gaze from the lights in the sky to the one who offered her a meal.

Legolas stood, towering over her, with a knowing expression upon his face. He lowered the plate as a gesture for her to take it, which she gratefully accepted.

“The boundless freedom of the sky fascinates us all,” he stated as he sat down next to her, placing his own meal in his lap.

The elven woman raised her brows and nodded in the direction of Merry and Pippin, “Well, maybe not all of us.”

Legolas lifted his head to see what she was motioning at. And sure enough, she was correct. The two hobbits were more interested in attempting to stick their sausages up their nostrils then contemplate the wonders of the sky. The Mirkwood Prince couldn’t help but crack a smile. How they came to think up this ridiculous activity with their food, he knew not.

The two elves ate their meals in silence for the blonde ellon didn’t know what to speak of. It was very rare for (Y/N) to carry a conversation, no matter how many times Legolas had tried. She seemed to be in a world far off—always sharpening her countless weapons and living in the crevices of death and despondency. He could see the emptiness in her eyes and the dread in her soul. She viewed the world as a vicious place; one with no comfort and no warmth. Quite frankly, this saddened the blonde Prince. There was more to existence than loneliness. He was sure the others noticed her ideology too, for many times they tried to engage with her but she shoved them off. Nevertheless, Legolas was not yet willing to give up on her; and sitting directly beside her, in quite close proximity, was a start.

.....

Plates were collected and the low singing voices of Boromir and Aragorn hummed through the air. The deep tones resonated within them all and it gently lulled them into a relaxed state.

It was not long before Legolas felt a slight weight upon his shoulder. He slowly shifted his peripheral vision and was surprised to see that is was the head of the worn-down elleth. Really, what else was he expecting? An orc?

Legolas was still as he focused on the sound of her steady heartbeat and gentle breathes. It was different to witness her in this state. Not once on their journey had she sought physical comfort. Quite frankly, Legolas couldn’t remember any time that she had even touched one of them. But now, in her sleep, she seemed so tranquil and welcoming of his warmth; and he was glad to give it to her. The corner of the Prince’s mouth tugged upward. He was rather pleased that she chose to use him as a pillow. He would be lying if he said it didn’t feed into his pride. He had wished thousands of time that he could pull her into his embrace and take away her suffering. Furthermore, Legolas had desired this closeness for a long time. He too craved consolation from the horrors of the quest.

The Prince’s brows furrowed slightly when a thought crossed his mind. The position she was in couldn’t be comfortable. He shifted and ever so carefully lowered her head into his lap. Legolas was shocked that she didn’t wake and push a blade again this throat.

In her unconscious state, a barely audible whimper escaped her lips and her fist clenched onto the fabric of his trousers. Legolas lips parted; the sound was so heartbreaking. He wondered if her dreams were also haunted. Hesitantly, the elf rested his hand on her head. He began to run his fingers through her smooth locks in hopes to provide some relief. As Legolas did this, he examined her appearance. Without the ever present angry scowl on her face, she looked peaceful—well as peaceful as one could get during these dark times. The curve of her jaw molded her structured features nicely. Her eyelids would fluttered occasionally, like a bird about to take flight; and her plump pink lips were were parted, like raspberries plucked to early. She really was beautiful, as all elves were.

Suddenly, the raking sound of Aragorn sharpening his sword with a metal file stopped. Heat rose up to Legolas’s cheeks and ears as he felt eyes boring into him. Ever so slowly the elf lifted his head. The Ranger’s body was frozen and his eyes were glued to the pair of elves with a surprised accusatory look. This, of course, summoned the attention of the rest of the company.

Boromir was the first to speak with amusement upon his tone, “So the wolf doesn’t bite...”

A teasing smiled plastered across Aragorn’s face. Legolas inwardly groaned; he surely was to hear an earful from his friend latter.

The uncrowned Ranger replied to the Gondorian, “Well, she doesn’t bite elf boy over there.”

A loud gleeful cackle erupted from Gimli. How it didn’t wake (Y/N) and the hobbits was a mystery.

Legolas rolled his eyes in attempt to hide the embarrassment, but he was sure the group could see right through him.

Gandalf, who was smoking his pipe, chided the men, “Oh, let the elflings seek comfort from each other for these are dark times we live in.”

Legolas sent a grateful smile in the old wizard’s direction, but regretted it when a glimmer entered Gandalf’s gaze and he continued speaking, “Maybe we will have some little ones in the near future to bring joy to us all?”

The Mirkwood Prince was positive his face was as red as a midsummer’s cherry at this point.

This could not get any worse.

.....

As the journey went on Legolas’s friends did not stop the taunting jests. Whenever the two elves arms brushed together or sat beside each other the men sent teasing looks their way. Of course, (Y/N) didn’t even notice. Aragorn went as far as constantly forcing them to complete daily tasks together such as hunting and scouting. It was embarrassing really. Even the hobbits caught on!!

It wasn’t until Pippin opened his mouth that the groups plans were revealed to (Y/N). The small hobbit and elven woman were gathering fire wood when Pippin spoke, “So (Y/N), do you like Legolas?”

The woman tilted her head, “What prompts you to ask such a question?”

The gleeful child-like being laughed, “Well, yesterday when your back was turned Strider was making kissy faces at you and Legolas!”

“HE DID WHAT?!” She hollered.

Pippin, surprised at her outburst dropped the sticks he was holding, “As...as I just said he—“

She shook her head, “Hush, hush. I heard you the first time.”

(Y/N) stormed off towards the camp and the hobbit quickly scurried behind her—struggling to pick up the assortment of logs.

All heads turned as she, visibly pissed, marched right up to Aragorn. She balled her hand into a fist and punched him right in the jaw. “THAT IS FOR BEING AN ASSHOLE!” She clocked him again, “AND THAT IS FOR ENJOYING IT!”

Aragorn had a confused and shocked expression upon his face as he wiped blood from his lip.

The sound of an amused chuckled from Boromir drew her attention. She stormed up to him and kicked him hard in the shin, “AND THAT IS FOR GOING ALONG WITH IT!”

(Y/N) then turned her head towards Legolas, “And you—“

She made her was towards the elf with long strides and jabbed her finger in his face, “How dare you not tell me of this!!!”

The Prince’s eyes were wide with shock, “I...I—“

She interrupted him, “Why?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

He moved his lips to speak but no words left his mouth.

She tilted her head, “Unless.....unless it’s because you are embarrassed....” Her lips parted and the looming question tumbled from her mouth. “You...you fancy me?”

All eyes were on them at this point. Legolas swallowed dryly and every so slightly nodded his head.

Without warning, (Y/N) grasped both sides of his face and yanked his head towards her. She smashed her lips against his and he froze in shock. Time stood still for a moment, but the realization of what was happening finally hit him. Legolas snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her form against his. (Y/N) felt the rush of helpless thirst flood her as their mouths danced against each other. It had been so long since she touch another with care, but never had she experienced this kind of intimacy. She tangled her hands in his soft blonde locks while gladly inviting his warmth to infect her being and bring solace to the turmoil within her soul. She would never admit it, but she had needed this. She had craved this.

If it wasn’t for the woof whistles and hoots from the rest of the fellowship they probably would have continued. However, the two reluctantly pulled apart with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. They did not break eye contact; instead, they took comfort in each other’s tight hold. Maybe, just maybe, the cruel nature of the world wasn’t so menacing.

[readbookywooks]

An Unexpected Party

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats - the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill - The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it - and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for the hobbit: bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (he had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over his garden and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river. This hobbit was a very well-to-do hobbit, and his name was Baggins. The Bagginses had lived in the neighbourhood of The Hill for time out of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only because most of them were rich, but also because they never had any adventures or did anything unexpected: you could tell what a Baggins would say on any question without the bother of asking him. This is a story of how a Baggins had an adventure, found himself doing and saying things altogether unexpected. He may have lost the neighbours' respect, but he gained-well, you will see whether he gained anything in the end. The mother of our particular hobbit... what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits need some description nowadays, since they have become rare and shy of the Big People, as they call us. They are (or were) a little people, about half our height, and smaller than the bearded Dwarves. Hobbits have no beards. There is little or no magic about them, except the ordinary everyday sort which helps them to disappear quietly and quickly when large stupid folk like you and me come blundering along, making a noise like elephants which they can hear a mile off. They are inclined to be at in the stomach; they dress in bright colours (chiefly green and yellow); wear no shoes, because their feet grow natural leathery soles and thick warm brown hair like the stuff on their heads (which is curly); have long clever brown fingers, good-natured faces, and laugh deep fruity laughs (especially after dinner, which they have twice a day when they can get it). Now you know enough to go on with. As I was saying, the mother of this hobbit - of Bilbo Baggins, that is - was the fabulous Belladonna Took, one of the three remarkable daughters of the Old Took, head of the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the foot of The Hill. It was often said (in other families) that long ago one of the Took ancestors must have taken a fairy wife. That was, of course, absurd, but certainly there was still something not entirely hobbit-like about them, - and once in a while members of the Took-clan would go and have adventures. They discreetly disappeared, and the family hushed it up; but the fact remained that the Tooks were not as respectable as the Bagginses, though they were undoubtedly richer. Not that Belladonna Took ever had any adventures after she became Mrs. Bungo Baggins. Bungo, that was Bilbo's father, built the most luxurious hobbit-hole for her (and partly with her money) that was to be found either under The Hill or over The Hill or across The Water, and there they remained to the end of their days. Still it is probable that Bilbo, her only son, although he looked and behaved exactly like a second edition of his solid and comfortable father, got something a bit queer in his makeup from the Took side, something that only waited for a chance to come out. The chance never arrived, until Bilbo Baggins was grown up, being about fifty years old or so, and living in the beautiful hobbit-hole built by his father, which I have just described for you, until he had in fact apparently settled down immovably. By some curious chance one morning long ago in the quiet of the world, when there was less noise and more green, and the hobbits were still numerous and prosperous, and Bilbo Baggins was standing at his door after breakfast smoking an enormous long wooden pipe that reached nearly down to his woolly toes (neatly brushed) - Gandalf came by. Gandalf! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have heard about him, and I have only heard very little of all there is to hear, you would be prepared for any sort I of remarkable tale. Tales and adventures sprouted up all over the place wherever he went, in the most extraordinary fashion. He had not been down that way under The Hill for ages and ages, not since his friend the Old Took died, in fact, and the hobbits had almost forgotten what he looked like. He had been away over The Hill and across The Water on business of his own since they were all small hobbit-boys and hobbit-girls. All that the unsuspecting Bilbo saw that morning was an old man with a staff. He had a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, a silver scarf over which a white beard hung down below his waist, and immense black boots. "Good morning!" said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat. "What do you mean?" be said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is morning to be good on?" "All of them at once," said Bilbo. "And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!" Then Bilbo sat down on a seat by his door, crossed his legs, and blew out a beautiful grey ring of smoke that sailed up into the air without breaking and floated away over The Hill. "Very pretty!" said Gandalf. "But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone." I should think so - in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anybody sees in them, said our Mr. Baggins, and stuck one thumb behind his braces, and blew out another even bigger smoke-ring. Then he took out his morning letters, and begin to read, pretending to take no more notice of the old man. He had decided that he was not quite his sort, and wanted him to go away. But the old man did not move. He stood leaning on his stick and gazing at the hobbit without saying anything, till Bilbo got quite uncomfortable and even a little cross. "Good morning!" he said at last. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water." By this he meant that the conversation was at an end. "What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!" said Gandalf. "Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off." "Not at all, not at all, my dear sir! Let me see, I don't think I know your name?" "Yes, yes, my dear sir - and I do know your name, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. And you do know my name, though you don't remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!" "Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows' sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!" You will notice already that Mr. Baggins was not quite so prosy as he liked to believe, also that he was very fond of flowers. "Dear me!" she went on. "Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures. Anything from climbing trees to visiting Elves - or sailing in ships, sailing to other shores! Bless me, life used to be quite inter - I mean, you used to upset things badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business." "Where else should I be?" said the wizard. "All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, land that is not without hope. Indeed for your old grand-father Took's sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what you asked for." "I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!" "Yes, you have! Twice now. My pardon. I give it you. In fact I will go so far as to send you on this adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you and profitable too, very likely, if you ever get over it." "Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Good morning! But please come to tea - any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Good-bye!" With that the hobbit turned and scuttled inside his round green door, and shut it as quickly as he dared, not to seen rude. Wizards after all are wizards. "What on earth did I ask him to tea for!" he said to him-self, as he went to the pantry. He had only just had break fast, but he thought a cake or two and a drink of something would do him good after his fright. Gandalf in the meantime was still standing outside the door, and laughing long but quietly. After a while he stepped up, and with the spike of his staff scratched a queer sign on the hobbit's beautiful green front-door. Then he strode away, just about the time when Bilbo was finishing his second cake and beginning to think that he had escape adventures very well. The next day he had almost forgotten about Gandalf. He did not remember things very well, unless he put them down on his Engagement Tablet: like this: Gandalf 'a Wednesday. Yesterday he had been too flustered to do anything of the kind. Just before tea-time there came a tremendous ring on the front-door bell, and then he remembered! He rushed and put on the kettle, and put out another cup and saucer and an extra cake or two, and ran to the door. "I am so sorry to keep you waiting!" he was going to say, when he saw that it was not Gandalf at all. It was a dwarf with a blue beard tucked into a golden belt, and very bright eyes under his dark-green hood. As soon a the door was opened, he pushed inside, just as if he had been expected. He hung his hooded cloak on the nearest peg, and "Dwalin at your service!" he said with a low bow. "Bilbo Baggins at yours!" said the hobbit, too surprised to ask any questions for the moment. When the silence that followed had become uncomfortable, he added: "I am just about to take tea; pray come and have some with me." A little stiff perhaps, but he meant it kindly. And what would you do, if an uninvited dwarf came and hung his things up in your hall without a word of explanation? They had not been at table long, in fact they had hardly reached the third cake, when there came another even louder ring at the bell. "Excuse me!" said the hobbit, and off he went to the door. "So you have got here at last!" was what he was going to say to Gandalf this time. But it was not Gandalf. Instead there was a very old-looking dwarf on the step with a white beard and a scarlet hood; and he too hopped inside as soon as the door was open, just as if he had been invited. "I see they have begun to arrive already," he said when he caught sight of Dwalin's green hood hanging up. He hung his red one next to it, and "Balin at your service!" he said with his hand on his breast. "Thank you!" said Bilbo with a gasp. It was not the correct thing to say, but they have begun to arrive had flustered him badly. He liked visitors, but he liked to know them before they arrived, and he preferred to ask them himself. He had a horrible thought that the cakes might run short, and then he-as the host: he knew his duty and stuck to it however painful-he might have to go without. "Come along in, and have some tea!" he managed to say after taking a deep breath. "A little beer would suit me better, if it is all the same to you, my good sir," said Balin with the white beard. "But I don't mind some cake-seed-cake, if you have any." "Lots!" Bilbo found himself answering, to his own surprise; and he found himself scuttling off, too, to the cellar to fill a pint beer-mug, and to the pantry to fetch two beautiful round seed-cakes which he had baked that afternoon for his after-supper morsel. When he got back Balin and Dwalin were talking at the table like old friends (as a matter of fact they were brothers). Bilbo plumped down the beer and the cake in front of them, when loud came a ring at the bell again, and then another ring. "Gandalf for certain this time," he thought as he puffed along the passage. But it was not. It was two more dwarves, both with blue hoods, silver belts, and yellow beards; and each of them carried a bag of tools and a spade. In they hopped, as soon as the door began to open-Bilbo was hardly surprised at all. "What can I do for you, my dwarves?" he said. "Kili at your service!" said the one. "And Fili!" added the other; and they both swept off their blue hoods and bowed. "At yours and your family's!" replied Bilbo, remembering his manners this time. "Dwalin and Balin here already, I see," said Kili. "Let us join the throng!" "Throng!" thought Mr. Baggins. "I don't like the sound of that. I really must sit down for a minute and collect my wits, and have a drink." He had only just had a sip-in the corner, while the four dwarves sat around the table, and talked about mines and gold and troubles with the goblins, and the depredations of dragons, and lots of other things which he did not understand, and did not want to, for they sounded much too adventurous-when, ding-dong-a-ling-' dang, his bell rang again, as if some naughty little hobbit-boy was trying to pull the handle off. "Someone at the door!" he said, blinking. "Some four, I should say by the sound," said Fili. "Be-sides, we saw them coming along behind us in the distance." The poor little hobbit sat down in the hall and put his head in his hands, and wondered what had happened, and what was going to happen, and whether they would all stay to supper. Then the bell rang again louder than ever, and he had to run to the door. It was not four after all, it was FIVE. Another dwarf had come along while he was wondering in the hall. He had hardly turned the knob, be-x)re they were all inside, bowing and saying "at your service" one after another. Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, and Gloin were their names; and very soon two purple hoods, a grey hood, a brown hood, and a white hood were hanging on the pegs, and off they marched with their broad hands stuck in their gold and silver belts to join the others. Already it had almost become a throng. Some called for ale, and some for porter, and one for coffee, and all of them for cakes; so the hobbit was kept very busy for a while. A big jug of coffee bad just been set in the hearth, the seed-cakes were gone, and the dwarves were starting on a round of buttered scones, when there came-a loud knock. Not a ring, but a hard rat-tat on the hobbit's beautiful green door. Somebody was banging with a stick! Bilbo rushed along the passage, very angry, and altogether bewildered and bewuthered-this was the most awkward Wednesday he ever remembered. He pulled open the door with a jerk, and they all fell in, one on top of the other. More dwarves, four more! And there was Gandalf behind, leaning on his staff and laughing. He had made quite a dent on the beautiful door; he had also, by the way, knocked out the secret mark that he had put there the morning before. "Carefully! Carefully!" he said. "It is not like you, Bilbo, to keep friends waiting on the mat, and then open the door like a pop-gun! Let me introduce Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and especially Thorin!" "At your service!" said Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur standing in a row. Then they hung up two yellow hoods and a pale green one; and also a sky-blue one with a long silver tassel. This last belonged to Thorin, an enormously important dwarf, in fact no other than the great Thorin Oakenshield himself, who was not at all pleased at falling flat on Bilbo's mat with Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur on top of him. For one thing Bombur was immensely fat and heavy. Thorin indeed was very haughty, and said nothing about service; but poor Mr. Baggins said he was sorry so many times, that at last he grunted "pray don't mention it," and stopped frowning. "Now we are all here!" said Gandalf, looking at the row of thirteen hoods-the best detachable party hoods-and his own hat hanging on the pegs. "Quite a merry gathering! I hope there is something left for the late-comers to eat and drink! What's that? Tea! No thank you! A little red wine, I think, for me." "And for me," said Thorin. "And raspberry jam and apple-tart," said Bifur. "And mince-pies and cheese," said Bofur. "And pork-pie and salad," said Bombur. "And more cakes-and ale-and coffee, if you don't mind," called the other dwarves through the door. "Put on a few eggs, there's a good fellow!" Gandalf called after him, as the hobbit stumped off to the pantries. "And just bring out the cold chicken and pickles!" "Seems to know as much about the inside of my larders as I do myself!" thought Mr. Baggins, who was feeling positively flummoxed, and was beginning to wonder whether a most wretched adventure had not come right into his house. By the time he had got all the bottles and dishes and knives and forks and glasses and plates and spoons and things piled up on big trays, he was getting very hot, and red in the face, and annoyed. "Confusticate and bebother these dwarves!" he said aloud. "Why don't they come and lend a hand?" Lo and behold! there stood Balin and Dwalin at the door of the kitchen, and Fili and Kili behind them, and before he could say knife they had whisked the trays and a couple of small tables into the parlour and set out everything afresh. Gandalf sat at the head of the party with the thirteen, dwarves all round: and Bilbo sat on a stool at the fireside, nibbling at a biscuit (his appetite was quite taken away), and trying to look as if this was all perfectly ordinary and. not in the least an adventure. The dwarves ate and ate, and talked and talked, and time got on. At last they pushed their chairs back, and Bilbo made a move to collect the plates and glasses. "I suppose you will all stay to supper?" he said in his politest unpressing tones. "Of course!" said Thorin. "And after. We shan't get through the business till late, and we must have some music first. Now to clear up!" Thereupon the twelve dwarves-not Thorin, he was too important, and stayed talking to Gandalf-jumped to their feet and made tall piles of all the things. Off they went, not waiting for trays, balancing columns of plates, each with a bottle on the top, with one hand, while the hobbit ran after them almost squeaking with fright: "please be careful!" and "please, don't trouble! I can manage." But the dwarves only started to sing: "Chip the glasses and crack the plates! Blunt the knives and bend the forks! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates- Smash the bottles and burn the corks! Cut the cloth and tread on the fat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor! Leave the bones on the bedroom mat! Splash the wine on every door! Dump the crocks in a boiling bawl; Pound them up with a thumping pole; And when you've finished, if any are whole, Send them down the hall to roll ! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates! So, carefully! carefully with the plates!" And of course they did none of these dreadful things, and everything was cleaned and put away safe as quick as lightning, while the hobbit was turning round and round in the middle of the kitchen trying to see what they were doing. Then they went back, and found Thorin with his feet on the fender smoking a pipe. He was blowing the most enormous smoke-rings, and wherever he told one to go, it went-up the chimney, or behind the clock on the man-telpiece, or under the table, or round and round the ceiling; but wherever it went it was not quick enough to escape Gandalf. Pop! he sent a smaller smoke-ring from his short clay-pipe straight through each one of Thorin's. The Gandalf's smoke-ring would go green and come back to hover over the wizard's head. He had quite a cloud of them about him already, and in the dim light it made him look strange and sorcerous. Bilbo stood still and watched-he loved smoke-rings-and then be blushed to think how proud he had been yesterday morning of the smoke-rings he had sent up the wind over The Hill. "Now for some music!" said Thorin. "Bring out the instruments!" Kili and Fili rushed for their bags and brought back little fiddles; Dori, Nori, and Ori brought out flutes from somewhere inside their coats; Bombur produced a drum from the hall; Bifur and Bofur went out too, and came back with clarinets that they had left among the walking-sticks Dwalin and Balin said: "Excuse me, I left mine in the porch!" "Just bring mine in with you," said Thorin. They came back with viols as big as themselves, and with Thorin's harp wrapped in a green cloth. It was a beautiful gold-en harp, and when Thorin struck it the music began all at once, so sudden and sweet that Bilbo forgot everything else, and was swept away into dark lands under strange moons, far over The Water and very far from his hobbit-hole under The Hill. The dark came into the room from the little window that opened in the side of The Hill; the firelight flickered-it was April-and still they played on, while the shadow of Gandalf's beard wagged against the wall. The dark filled all the room, and the fire died down, and the shadows were lost, and still they played on. And suddenly first one and then another began to sing as they played, deep-throated singing of the dwarves in the deep places of their ancient homes; and this is like a fragment of their song, if it can be like their song without their music. "Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away ere break of day To seek the pale enchanted gold. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fell like ringing bells In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells. For ancient king and elvish lord There many a gloaming golden hoard They shaped and wrought, and light they caught To hide in gems on hilt of sword. On silver necklaces they strung The flowering stars, on crowns they hung The dragon-fire, in twisted wire They meshed the light of moon and sun. Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away, ere break of day, To claim our long-forgotten gold. Goblets they carved there for themselves And harps of gold; where no man delves There lay they long, and many a song Was sung unheard by men or elves. The pines were roaring on the height, The winds were moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread; The trees like torches biased with light, The bells were ringing in the dale And men looked up with faces pale; The dragon's ire more fierce than fire Laid low their towers and houses frail. The mountain smoked beneath the moon; The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom. They fled their hall to dying -fall Beneath his feet, beneath the moon. Far over the misty mountains grim To dungeons deep and caverns dim We must away, ere break of day, To win our harps and gold from him!" As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves. Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick. He looked out of the window. The stars were out in a dark sky above the trees. He thought of the jewels of the dwarves shining in dark caverns. Suddenly in the wood beyond The Water a flame leapt up - probably somebody lighting a wood-fire-and he thought of plundering dragons settling on his quiet Hill and kindling it all to flames. He shuddered; and very quickly he was plain Mr. Baggins of Bag-End, Under-Hill, again. He got up trembling. He had less than half a mind to fetch the lamp, and more than half a mind to pretend to, and go and hide behind the beer barrels in the cellar, and not come out again until all the dwarves had gone away. Suddenly he found that the music and the singing had stopped, and they were all looking at him with eyes shining in the dark. "Where are you going?" said Thorin, in a tone that seemed to show that he guessed both halves of the hobbit's mind. "What about a little light?" said Bilbo apologetically. "We like the dark," said the dwarves. "Dark for dark business! There are many hours before dawn." "Of course!" said Bilbo, and sat down in a hurry. He missed the stool and sat in the fender, knocking over the poker and shovel with a crash. "Hush!" said Gandalf. "Let Thorin speak!" And this is bow Thorin began. "Gandalf, dwarves and Mr. Baggins! We are not together in the house of our friend and fellow conspirator, this most excellent and audacious hobbit-may the hair on his toes never fall out! all praise to his wine and ale!-" He paused for breath and for a polite remark from the hob-bit, but the compliments were quite lost on-poor Bilbo Baggins, who was wagging his mouth in protest at being called audacious and worst of all fellow conspirator, though no noise came out, he was so flummoxed. So Thorin went on: "We are met to discuss our plans, our ways, means, policy and devices. We shall soon before the break of day start on our long journey, a journey from which some of us, or perhaps all of us (except our friend and counsellor, the ingenious wizard Gandalf) may never return. It is a solemn moment. Our object is, I take it, well known to us all. To the estimable Mr. Baggins, and perhaps to one or two of the younger dwarves (I think I should be right in naming Kili and Fili, for instance), the exact situation at the moment may require a little brief explanation-" This was Thorin's style. He was an important dwarf. If he had been allowed, he would probably have gone on like this until he was out of breath, without telling any one there 'anything that was not known already. But he was rudely interrupted. Poor Bilbo couldn't bear it any longer. At may never return he began to feel a shriek coming up inside, and very soon it burst out like the whistle of an engine coming out of a tunnel. All the dwarves sprang Bp knocking over the table. Gandalf struck a blue light on the end of his magic staff, and in its firework glare the poor little hobbit could be seen kneeling on the hearth-rug, shaking like a jelly that was melting. Then he fell flat on the floor, and kept on calling out "struck by lightning, struck by lightning!" over and over again; and that was all they could get out of him for a long time. So they took him and laid him out of the way on the drawing-room sofa with a drink at his elbow, and they went back to their dark business. "Excitable little fellow," said Gandalf, as they sat down again. "Gets funny queer fits, but he is one of the best, one of the best-as fierce as a dragon in a pinch." If you have ever seen a dragon in a pinch, you will realise that this was only poetical exaggeration applied to any hobbit, even to Old Took's great- granduncle Bullroarer, who was so huge (for a hobbit) that he could ride a horse. He charged the ranks of the goblins of Mount Gram in the Battle of the Green Fields, and knocked their king Gol-firnbul's head clean off with a wooden club. It sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole, and in this way the battle was won and the game of Golf invented at the same moment. In the meanwhile, however, Bullroarer's gentler descendant was reviving in the drawing-room. After a while and a drink he crept nervously to the door of the parlour. This is what he heard, Gloin speaking: "Humph!" (or some snort more or less like that). "Will he do, do you think? It is all very well for Gandalf to talk about this hobbit being fierce, but one shriek like that in a moment of excitement would be enough to wake the dragon and all his relatives, and kill the lot of us. I think it sounded more like fright than excitement! In fact, if it bad not been for the sign on the door, I should have been sure we had come to the wrong house. As soon as I clapped eyes on the little fellow bobbing and puffing on the mat, I had my doubts. He looks more like a grocer-than a burglar!" Then Mr. Baggins turned the handle and went in. The Took side had won. He suddenly felt he would go without bed and breakfast to be thought fierce. As for little fellow bobbing on the mat it almost made him really fierce. Many a time afterwards the Baggins part regretted what he did now, and he said to himself: "Bilbo, you were a fool; you walked right in and put your foot in it." "Pardon me," he said, "if I have overheard words that you were saying. I don't pretend to understand what you are talking about, or your reference to burglars, but I think I am right in believing" (this is what he called being on his dignity) "that you think I am no good. I will show you. I have no signs on my door-it was painted a week ago-, and I am quite sure you have come to the wrong house. As soon as I saw your funny faces on the door-step, I had my doubts. But treat it as the right one. Tell me what you want done, and I will try it, if I have to walk from here to the East of East and fight the wild Were-worms in the Last Desert. I bad a great-great-great-granduncle once, Bullroarer Took, and -" "Yes, yes, but that was long ago," said Gloin. "I was talking about you. And I assure you there is a mark on this door-the usual one in the trade, or used to be. Burglar wants a good job, plenty of Excitement and reasonable Reward, that's how it is usually read. You ^an say Expert Treasure-hunter instead of Burglar if you like. Some of them do. It's all the same to us. Gandalf told us that there was a man of the sort in these parts looking for a Job at once, and that he had arranged for a meeting here this Wednesday tea-time." "Of course there is a mark," said Gandalf. "I put it there myself. For very good reasons. You asked me to find the fourteenth man for your expedition, and I chose Mr. Baggins. Just let any one say I chose the wrong man or the wrong house, and you can stop at thirteen and have all the bad luck you like, or go back to digging coal." He scowled so angrily at Gloin that the dwarf huddled back in his chair; and when Bilbo tried to open his mouth to ask a question, he turned and frowned at him and stuck oat his bushy eyebrows, till Bilbo shut his mouth tight with a snap. "That's right," said Gandalf. "Let's have no more argument. I have chosen Mr. Baggins and that ought to !6te enough for all of you. If I say he is a Burglar, a Burglar he is, or will be when the time comes. There is a lot more in him than you guess, and a deal more than he has any idea of himself. You may (possibly) all live to thank me yet. Now Bilbo, my boy, fetch the lamp, and let's have little light on this!" On the table in the light of a big lamp with a red shad he spread a piece of parchment rather like a map. "This was made by Thror, your grandfather, Thorin, he said in answer to the dwarves' excited questions. "It is a plan of the Mountain." "I don't see that this will help us much," said Thorin disappointedly after a glance. "I remember the Mountain well enough and the lands about it. And I know where Mirkwood is, and the Withered Heath where the great dragons bred." "There is a dragon marked in red on the Mountain, said Balin, "but it will be easy enough to find him without that, if ever we arrive there." "There is one point that you haven't noticed," said the wizard, "and that is the secret entrance. You see that rune on the West side, and the hand pointing to it from the other runes? That marks a hidden passage to the Lower Halls. "It may have been secret once," said Thorin, "but how do we know that it is secret any longer? Old Smaug had lived there long enough now to find out anything there is to know about those caves." "He may-but he can't have used it for years and years. "Why?" "Because it is too small. 'Five feet high the door and three may walk abreast' say the runes, but Smaug could not creep into a hole that size, not even when he was a young dragon, certainly not after devouring so many of the dwarves and men of Dale." "It seems a great big hole to me," squeaked Bilbo (who had no experience of dragons and only of hobbit-holes) He was getting excited and interested again, so that he forgot to keep his mouth shut. He loved maps, and in his hall there hung a large one of the Country Round with all his favourite walks marked on it in red ink. "How could such a large door be kept secret from everybody outside, apart from the dragon?" he asked. He was only a little hobbit you must remember. "In lots of ways," said Gandalf. "But in what way this one has been hidden we don't know without going to see. From what it says on the map I should guess there is a closed door which has been made to look exactly like the side of the Mountain. That is the usual dwarves' method -  I think that is right, isn't it?" "Quite right," said Thorin. "Also," went on Gandalf, "I forgot to mention that with the map went a key, a small and curious key. Here it is!" he said, and handed to Thorin a key with a long barrel and intricate wards, made of silver. "Keep it safe!" "Indeed I will," said Thorin, and he fastened it upon a fine chain that hung about his neck and under his jacket. "Now things begin to look more hopeful. This news alters them much for-the better. So far we have had no clear idea what to do. We thought of going East, as quiet and careful as we could, as far as the Long Lake. After that the trouble would begin." "A long time before that, if I know anything about the loads East," interrupted Gandalf. "We might go from there up along the River Running," went on Thorin taking no notice, "and so to the ruins of Dale-the old town in the valley there, under the shadow of the Mountain. But we none of us liked the idea of the Front Gate. The river runs right out of it through the great cliff at the South of the Mountain, and out of it comes the dragon too-far too often, unless he has changed." "That would be no good," said the wizard, "not without a mighty Warrior, even a Hero. I tried to find one; but warriors are busy fighting one another in distant lands, and in this neighbourhood heroes are scarce, or simply lot to be found. Swords in these parts are mostly blunt, and axes are used for trees, and shields as cradles or dish-covers; and dragons are comfortably far-off (and therefore legendary). That is why I settled on burglary-especially when I remembered the existence of a Side-door. And here is our little Bilbo Baggins, the burglar, the chosen and selected burglar. So now let's get on and make some plans." "Very well then," said Thorin, "supposing the burglar-expert gives us some ideas or suggestions." He turned with mock-politeness to Bilbo. "First I should like to know a bit more about things," said he, feeling all confused and a bit shaky inside, but so far still lookishly determined to go on with things. "I mean about the gold and the dragon, and all that, and how it got there, and who it belongs to, and so on and further." "Bless me!" said Thorin, "haven't you got a map? and didn't you hear our song? and haven't we been talking about all this for hours?" "All the same, I should like it all plain and clear," said he obstinately, putting on his business manner (usually reserved for people who tried to borrow money off him), and doing his best to appear wise and prudent and professional and live up to Gandalf's recommendation. "Also I should like to know about risks, out-of-pocket expenses, time required and remuneration, and so forth"-by which he meant: "What am I going to get out of it? and am I going to come back alive?" "O very well," said Thorin. "Long ago in my grandfather Thror's time our family was driven out of the far North, and came back with all their wealth and their tools to this Mountain on the map. It had been discovered by my far ancestor, Thrain the Old, but now they mined and they tunnelled and they made huger halls and greater workshops -and in addition I believe they found a good deal of gold and a great many jewels too. Anyway they grew immensely rich and famous, and my grandfather was King under the Mountain again and treated with great reverence by the mortal men, who lived to the South, and were gradually spreading up the Running River as far as the valley overshadowed by the Mountain. They built the merry town of Dale there in those days. Kings used to send for our smiths, and reward even the least skilful most richly. Fathers would beg us to take their sons as apprentices, and pay us handsomely, especially in food-supplies, which we never bothered to grow or find for ourselves. Altogether those were good days for us, and the poorest of us had money to spend and to lend, and leisure to make beautiful things just for the. fun of it, not to speak of the most marvellous and magical toys, the like of which is not to be found in the world now-a-days. So my grandfather's halls became full of armour and jewels and carvings and cups, and the toy-market of Dale was the wonder of the North. "Undoubtedly that was what brought the dragon. Dragons steal gold and jewels, you know, from men and elves and dwarves, wherever they can find them; and they guard their plunder as long as they live (which is practically forever, unless they are killed), and never enjoy a brass ring of it. Indeed they hardly know a good bit of work from a bad, though they usually have a good notion of the current market value; and they can't make a thing for themselves, not even mend a little loose scale of their armour. There were lots of dragons in the North in those days, and gold was probably getting scarce up there, with the dwarves flying south or getting killed, and all the general waste and destruction that dragons make going from bad to worse. There was a most specially greedy, strong and wicked worm called Smaug. One day he flew up into the air and came south. The first we heard of it was a noise like a hurricane coming from the North, and the pine-trees on the Mountain creaking and cracking in the wind. Some of the dwarves who happened to be outside (I was one luckily -a fine adventurous lad in those days, always wandering about, and it saved my life that day)-well, from a good way off we saw the dragon settle on our mountain in a spout of flame. Then he came down the slopes and when he reached the woods they all went up in fire. By that time all the bells were ringing in Dale and the warriors were arming. The dwarves rushed out of their great gate; but there was the dragon waiting for them. None escaped that way. The river rushed up in steam and a fog fell on Dale, and in the fog the dragon came on them and destroyed most of the warriors-the usual unhappy story, it was only too common in those days. Then he went back and crept in through the Front Gate and routed out all the halls, and lanes, and tunnels, alleys, cellars, mansions and passages. After that there were no dwarves left alive inside, and he took all their wealth for himself. Probably, for that is the dragons' way, he has piled it all up in a great heap far inside, and sleeps on it for a bed. Later he used to crawl out of the great gate and come by night to Dale, and carry away people, especially maidens, to eat, until Dale was ruined, and all the people dead or gone. What goes on there now I don't know for certain, but I don't suppose anyone lives nearer to the Mountain than the far edge of the Long Lake now-a-days. "The few of us that were well outside sat and wept in hiding, and cursed Smaug; and there we were unexpectedly joined by my father and my grandfather with singed beards. They looked very grim but they said very little. When I asked how they had got away, they told me to hold my tongue, and said that one day in the proper time I should know. After that we went away, and we have had to earn our livings as best we could up and down the lands, often enough sinking as low as blacksmith-work or even coalmining. But we have never forgotten our stolen treasure. And even now, when I will allow we have a good bit laid by and are not so badly off"-here Thorin stroked the gold chain round his neck-"we still mean to get it back, and to bring our curses home to Smaug-if we can. "I have often wondered about my father's and my grandfather's escape. I see now they must have had a private Side-door which only they knew about. But apparently they made a map, and I should like to know how Gandalf got hold of it, and why it did not come down to me, the rightful heir." "I did not 'get hold of it,' I was given it," said the wizard. "Your grandfather Thror was killed, you remember, in the mines of Moria by Azog the Goblin -" "Curse his name, yes," said Thorin. "And Thrain your father went away on the twenty-first of April, a hundred years ago last Thursday, and has never been seen by you since-" "True, true," said Thorin. "Well, your father gave me this to give to you; and if I have chosen my own time and way of handing it over, you can hardly blame me, considering the trouble I had to find you. Your father could not remember his own name when he gave me the paper, and he never told me yours; so on the whole I think I ought to be praised and thanked. Here it is," said he handing the map to Thorin. "I don't understand," said Thorin, and Bilbo felt he would have liked to say the same. The explanation did not seem to explain. "Your grandfather," said the wizard slowly and grimly, "gave the map to his son for safety before he went to the mines of Moria. Your father went away to try his luck with the map after your grandfather was killed; and lots of adventures of a most unpleasant sort he had, but he never got near the Mountain. How he got there I don't know, but I found him a prisoner in the dungeons of the Necromancer." "Whatever were you doing there?" asked Thorin with a shudder, and all the dwarves shivered. "Never you mind. I was finding things out, as usual; and a nasty dangerous business it was. Even I, Gandalf, only just escaped. I tried to save your father, but it was too late. He was witless and wandering, and had forgotten almost everything except the map and the key." "We have long ago paid the goblins of Moria," said Thorin; "we must give a thought to the Necromancer." "Don't be absurd! He is an enemy quite beyond the powers of all the dwarves put together, if they could all be collected again from the four corners of the world. The one thing your father wished was for his son to read the map and use the key. The dragon and the Mountain are more than big enough tasks for you!" "Hear, hear!" said Bilbo, and accidentally said it aloud, "Hear what?" they all said turning suddenly towards him, and he was so flustered that he answered "Hear what I have got to say!" "What's that?" they asked. "Well, I should say that you ought to go East and have a look round. After all there is the Side-door, and dragons must sleep sometimes, I suppose. If you sit on the doorstep long enough, I daresay you will think of something. And well, don't you know, I think we have talked long enough for one night, if you see what I mean. What about bed, and an early start, and all that? I will give you a good breakfast before you go." "Before we go, I suppose you mean," said Thorin. "Aren't you the burglar? And isn't sitting on the door-step your job, not to speak of getting inside the door? But I agree about bed and breakfast. I like eggs with my ham, when starting on a journey: fried not poached, and mind you don't break 'em." After all the others had ordered their breakfasts without so much as a please (which annoyed Bilbo very much), they all got up. The hobbit had to find room for them all, and filled all his spare-rooms and made beds on chairs and sofas, before he got them all stowed and went to his own little bed very tired and not altogether happy. One thing he did make his mind up about was not to bother to get up very early and cook everybody else's wretched breakfast. The Tookishness was wearing off, and he was not now quite so sure that he was going on any journey in the morning. As he lay in bed he could hear Thorin still humming to himself in the best bedroom next to him: "Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away, ere break of day, To find our long-forgotten gold." Bilbo went to sleep with that in his ears, and it gave him very uncomfortable dreams. It was long after the break of day, when he woke up.

[xxbyimm]

Enya’s Unexpected Journey - Chapter 11

For all other chapters, click the number: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Chapter 11

Summary: The company gets stuck in goblin town. Enya meets a woman who is exactly who she seems...

Enya sat against the inner wall of the cave and could not stop shivering. They left without Gandalf just before dawn. When she asked Thorin why, he muttered something about elves being patronizing creatures. Enya closed her eyes. She was tired and the day had been tough. Navigating their way on the slope of a mountain had been nerve wracking. She hated heights. And to make matters worse, they then ran into stone giants... Fighting stone giants who crushed the fucking soil under their feet. Enya had never been so scared in all her life. She put her arms over her legs and stared into the darkness outside. This was madness. She wanted to hide in the cave and never come out again. 

'We camp here.' Thorin ordered. 'Let's start a fire. Miss Enya?' Gloín said and he rubbed his hands. 'No, no fire.' Thorin pressed. 'Caves in the mountain are seldom unoccupied. Get some rest, we continue in the morning. Bofur, you take the first watch.' All the dwarves complied and laid down on the floor. Within ten minutes, the snoring began. Enya sighed and cautiously got up. She crept past the sleeping dwarves and went to sit next to Bofur. 'Miss, are you all right?' Bofur asked. 'Are you not tired?' Enya shook her head. 'I cannot sleep.' ‘Why is that?’ ‘Because I will relive this day again in my dreams, and I’m not prepared for that.’ Bofur chuckled. ‘It is the wild miss. It’s no place for the faint hearted.’ ‘I am not faint hearted!’ Enya hissed. Bofur grinned. ‘No worries, miss. You’re more tough than any of us expected you to be.’ They sat in silence for a moment. ‘What is your world like?’ Bofur asked. ‘So different…’ Enya frowned. ‘But yet so similar.’ ‘In what way?’ ‘In my world they have more knowledge about… medicines and diseases.’ Enya paused. ‘Although the men in my world tend to believe they are highly civilized, I find that the majority of men I know, are quite rude and… two-faced.’ ‘Two-faced?’ Bofur said. Enya smiled. ‘People in my world are not always sincere. They are back stabbers. Pretend to like you to get what they want.’ ‘Sounds like there is no honor over there.’ ‘Some men and women are sincere and honorable. But the majority…’ Enya didn’t finish her sentence. ‘So, would you consider staying with us when we arrive in Erebor?’ Bofur asked. Enya sighed. ‘Even if I wanted to go home, I don’t know how. And I don’t expect to bump into a portal again.’ Bofur frowned. ‘But you are a witch’ Enya laughed. ‘Yes, that I am. But I derive my powers from nature, and there is nothing natural about a big void sucking you into another dimension. I cannot and do not want to summon such a thing.’ ‘So are you staying with us, then?’ Bofur smiled. ‘I might.’ Enya mused. ‘But I don’t know if our grumpy leader gives his consent to that. He seems to be very annoyed by my presence.’ Bofur grinned. ‘We will persuade him. Besides, you have to stay. You see, there is this girl in the blue mountains… and I need your advice on that.’ Enya giggled. ‘I don’t know if I’m the best person to give you advice about that. I had a human upbringing, remember? I have no clue how dating stuff works over here.’ ‘But you are a female dwarf! You must know!’ Bofur whispered. Their conversation was interrupted by Bilbo, who obviously tried to sneak past them to go outside. He had his walking stick in his hand and his traveling bag was on his back. ‘Where do you think you are going?’ Bofur said. Bilbo sighed and turned around. He looked ashamed. ‘Back to Rivendell.’ ‘No, No!’ Bofur said and he got up. ‘You can’t turn back now, you’re a part of the company!’ ‘I’m not though, am I?’ Bilbo said and Enya detected sincere grief in his eyes. ‘Thorin said I shouldn’t have come and he was right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I never should have run out of my door.’ ‘You are just homesick! We understand that.’ Bofur said. Enya closed her eyes as she heard Bilbo protest. ‘No, you don’t UNDERSTAND! You’re dwarves, you are used to this! To living on the road and never belonging anywhere.’ Enya shook her head and stood up. ‘They do belong somewhere, Bilbo. They belong in Erebor, their home.’ Bilbo blushed and he was visibly appalled by his own outburst. ‘I am sorry, Bofur. I didn’t…’ ‘No, you’re right.’ Bofur said sadly and he looked at his sleeping friends. Enya stared at Bilbo’s sword. It was glowing with an intense blue color. ‘Bilbo, what on earth is that?’ Bilbo followed her gaze and when he saw the glowing sword too, his eyes told Enya that something was wrong. Then they heard a rumbling sound beneath them. ‘WAKE UP!’ Thorin yelled. ‘GET ON YOUR FEET!’ Everyone (drowsy or not) immediately did what they were told to do. ‘What the…!’ Enya screamed as the sand that laid on the floor disappeared. With a loud noise, the floor opened beneath their feet and the company found themselves falling into darkness.

They were in trouble. Enya knew that much. First there was that terrible fall that took way to long. When they landed she was crushed by Balin and Gloín, but there was no time to recover. Little foul creatures ran straight towards them and started to poke everyone around. She was pushed to walk forward. Enya glimpsed at one of them and shivered. They were dead ugly. She knew a thing or two about middle earth and this had to be goblins. She lowered herself and sat still, hoping they would pass her unnoticed. She cautiously lifted her head up and saw Nori staring at her while he was pushed by the goblins. ‘I will follow you’ she mimicked, hoping he would understand her. Her body trembled as she tucked herself away behind a box. Not a perfect hiding spot, but it would do for now. ‘Miss Enya!’ Enya shot up and heaved a sigh when she saw the halfling standing a few feet away from her. ‘God damn it Bilbo, you scared me to death.’ She complained. ‘I’m sorry’ he said quietly. She crouched near him. ‘What should we do now?’ Bilbo whispered. ‘Go rescue the others.’ Enya said. ‘What if we get separated?’ ‘Then find a way out of this place.’ Enya said. ‘There is no need to linger here on your own.’ The hobbit nodded. ‘All right, I think they went-’ Enya began, but they were interrupted by two goblins. The goblins screamed when they saw the potentially new prisoners and lunged at them. Enya took her sai and gave Bilbo a short nod. ‘I’ll get the large one’ She got up and dodged the attack of the large goblin. For a few seconds they paced around each other and Enya was unsure what she should do. Then she remembered Dwalin’s lessons. Don’t be predictable. She smiled and swung one of her sai in the air. The goblin narrowed his eyes and eyed the beautiful weapon. She took a quick step forward and pierced it through the goblin’s heart. With a powerful kick from her feet the limb body of the goblin fell over the edge into the darkness. ‘Miss Enya!’ screamed Bilbo. Enya turned around and saw that Bilbo was having great difficulty fighting the other goblin. He was near the edge. Too near. ‘Hold on, I’m coming!’ Enya yelled, but as she ran to him, she saw both the hobbit and the goblin tipping over the edge. ‘BILBO!’ she screamed as she saw him disappearing. She sat down on her knees and sobbed. She killed the hobbit. He needed her help and she responded too late. If she had noticed earlier, she could have thrown her knife or she would… Enya whimpered. She singlehandedly deprived the company of their only burglar. She knew her contract stated she was a burglar too, but she was hardly any burglar material. She swallowed hard and tried to steady her breathing. She might have lost Bilbo, but the others needed her. She had to try to save them. Enya got up on her feet and scouted her surroundings. The area was abandoned. Everyone had followed her company deeper into the earth. Enya sighed and paced forward, unsure how to remain unnoticed. She wished she had a ‘stealth mode’ from that assassins creed Jason used to play. That would come in handy right now. Enya crept along the wooden bridge and prayed she wouldn’t fall down as well. How was she going to save the others from this mess? She could release her fire on a dozen of goblins, but she reckoned there would be hundreds of them. Or maybe even thousands. She felt a flame in the palm of her hand and stopped. It felt warm and it comforted her. For a few seconds, she watched it. Her breathing became normal again. ‘Where is the one I love?’ she whispered. ‘Where is my kin?’ The flame grew bigger and raised from her hand. ‘Show me the way’ Enya said. The flame started to move, almost too fast to follow. Enya ran behind it. She had no idea where she was going, but she instinctively knew it would lead the way. To Thorin. To the others. She stopped thinking and ran as fast as she could.

As she rushed along a wide bridge, she heard a voice. ‘Hey, YOU!’ someone hissed. Enya stopped. Her flame stopped. ‘Yes, you! The one who is following that fire! Can you get me out of here?’ Enya took a step closer and peered over the edge of the bridge. There was a woman, hanging in a cage above the abyss. The woman was small, maybe a bit taller than Enya herself. She had a broad posture and Enya could tell she was a warrior. The woman had fiery red hair and hazelnut eyes that pierced through her skin. Her face was standard and a bit… crude. Whoever this was, she was no natural beauty. ‘There are no goblins around.’ She said. ‘Can you get me out?’ ‘Who are you?’ Enya asked. ‘I am Dolvira, a commander in the army of the longbeards clan.’ Enya narrowed her eyes. She did not know if she liked the redhead, but she saw no harm in letting her out that cage. That is, if she would not get in the way. Enya tried to unlock the door of the cage. The rope was firmly tied together in a knot. Enya sighed. ‘How did you end up here?’ ‘I was searching for my love.’ Dolvira answered and she smiled. Enya had to admit that the woman’s smile opened up her face. You could even go as far as call that… pretty. ‘All right, hold your horses.’ Enya said. ‘This is too tight.’ ‘Then cut it.’ Dolvira said impatiently. Enya shook her head. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’ She focused and froze the rope. With a quick move of her hand it shattered into little ice splinters. She opened the tiny door. ‘Are you coming or what?’ she winked. Dolvira climbed out of the cage with ease. Enya had to admit, the girl had some serious skills! ‘Good luck, I’ve got things to do.’ Enya said and she turned to her flame again. ‘Show me.’ She whispered. The flame flew away again. Enya hurried after it. ‘What are you doing?’ Dolvira yelled. ‘Why are you following that stupid fire? You have no idea where you are going!’ She ran a few feet behind her. Enya rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t need you to follow me!’ She didn’t want to be rude, but she knew how Thorin felt about dragging people along. ‘I think we have a better chance of getting out of here when we’re together.’ Dolvira snapped. ‘AND if you stop following that thing around like a lunatic.’ Oh right. Dolvira had a better chance if they were together. Enya couldn’t care less about that. She was on a mission. She turned. ‘I am going to get my dwarves out of trouble. You are a fucking commander, you know how to get out of here. So, if you’re wise, you save your own skin.’ ‘After a damn long time in that cage, I could use some distraction.’ Dolvira pressed. ‘Don’t get in my way.’ Enya threatened. ‘You are quite bold for such a young lass, aren’t you?’ Dolvira said with a nasty voice. Enya tilted her head. ‘Get used to it, or get lost.’ She turned and followed her flame again. It burned brighter. They were near. Suddenly, the flame stopped. Enya and Dolvira got on their knees and peered around the corner. ‘That’s where all the goblins went to.’ Enya whispered as she was staring at the big open space in front of her. If she had to name this place, it would be ‘goblin town square’. The space seemed to be cut out by the goblins themselves, because the workmanship looked coarse and hasty. The various sizes of platforms and roads connecting them made the room frightening. Literally every platform was filled with screaming goblins. They much resembled the football hooligans at home. Enya covered her ears. The sound they made vibrated through the room and was amplified by the enormous ceiling above them. The biggest platform was situated in the middle. Carved in a huge rock that stood up high in the cave, there was a throne, occupied by the fattest and bulkiest goblin she had ever seen. Or imagined. He wore a crown and held a scepter. Enya watched in disgust as his double chin swung around with each movement of his head. Double chin? Heck no, this was far worse. This was a goblin with morbid obesity. ‘Yeah, duh. Of course they did.’ Dolvira groaned, obviously displeased with Enya’s stupidity. ‘This is their headquarter.’ She pointed at the throne. Enya wanted to move forward, but Dolvira roughly grabbed her by her shirt. ‘Where do you think you are going, love?’ ‘Save my kin.’ Enya hissed with clenched teeth. ‘I know perfectly well what I am doing.’ ‘You have no idea.’ Dolvira scoffed. ‘I am a witch.’ Enya said in a haughtily manner. ‘I can set this entire lair ablaze, if I wanted to. So don’t you tell me what I can or can’t do.’ ‘I understand that in the past your pretty little petite face must have gotten you everything you wanted with just a blink of those blue eyes, but down here it doesn’t work that way.’ Dolvira shot at her. ‘Excuse me?’ Breathe, Enya, breathe… ‘Let me be clear.’ Dolvira snarled. ‘Your pretty face is useless. I don’t care if you are a witch, or what you claim you can do. Wizards and witches are lunatics. If we want to get out of here, you do it my way. Follow me.’ Enya bit on her tongue. The bitch better knew what she was doing, or there would be hell to pay if they ever got out of here alive.

Although it only took both girls five minutes to hate each other with an intense passion, they cooperated… well let’s say they had a common purpose. Everything went fine, if they agreed on something. They decided to counter the platform from two sides. Enya would emerge from the throne side and Dolvira from the back. They probably would receive a few moments of surprise, which should be long enough for the dwarves to pick up their arms from the pile in the middle. Enya climbed on the rock and hated the fact that it caused her some difficulty. She had no time for this. Slowly she worked herself onto the top and casually sat above the fat goblin king’s head. She glanced over at the company and met Thorins’ gaze. He seemed surprised but yet somewhat relieved to see her, and gave her a little smile. She winked and smiled mischievously as she lifted the crown from his head. It was heavy. Enya threw it in the black abyss behind her. ‘Oops.’ She said and she bit her lip. All the dwarves chuckled. ‘WHO IS TAKING MY CROWN?’ the king yelled as he got up from his throne, squashing a few poor subjects in his anger. He turned and his vile eyes met hers. Enya did her best not to puke when she saw his face from up close. His long hair was greasy and his face was covered with acne. Yikes. ‘Hi there.’ She purred. ‘I don’t believe we have met, haven’t we?’ ‘And who are you?’ he bellowed. Enya narrowed her eyes. ‘You happen to have my gents, and I want them back.’ The king grinned. ‘That is not going to happen. You see, I need his head!’ He pointed at Thorin, who looked extremely angered by the fact. Enya felt her hands filling up with flames. Bring it on, baby. ‘WHAT ARE YOU?’ the king of goblins asked her as he watched the flames apprehensively. ‘What?’ Enya stood up. ‘What… what am I? That is not a nice question to-’ She was interrupted by a swinging rope with a goblin on it. With force she burned the rope and the goblin landed with an awful smack on the stone wall of the cave. ‘That is not a nice question to ask.’ She repeated. The goblin king showed her his teeth. Enya smiled and jumped off the rock. She was ready to set the goblin kings’ ass on fire (ha, that would make him run into that black hole himself) when suddenly-

BOOM.

The loud bang went with a massive force that blew every dwarf and goblin off their feet. It was accompanied by a bright light. Enya groaned. She had no idea who caused this, except that she was innocent of this type of violence. ‘Pick up your arms!’ Gandalf shouted. ‘Pick up your arms and fight!!’

They ran for their lives. Enya was in the front of the group, shooting flames and icicles at every goblin she could find. She followed Gandalf as they navigated them through the goblins’ realm. The last ones of the group cut away the paths after them as much as they could, to stop the goblins from following them. Enya feared that wouldn’t help their cause. The bridges and platforms they crossed all looked the same to her. She had no idea where they were going. They could even venture even deeper in the mountain… They wanted to cross over a bridge when they were blocked by the goblin king. ‘You thought you could escape me?’ he said and lunged at Gandalf. The wizard skillfully avoided him. ‘What are you going to do now, wizard?’ he grinned. Gandalf reacted quickly and stabbed the king in his eye with his staff. The king grunted and grabbed his face with one of his filthy hands. Gandalf shouted and went on to wound the king further by sliding his belly open. ‘That would do it!’ the king confessed and grabbed his abdomen with his other hand. But Gandalf obviously did not agree with that. With a quick move from his blade again, he slid the kings’ throat. The king tipped over and all the goblins squealed in horror. The platform cracked under the sudden extra weight. Enya shot Thorin an uneasy glance. They all listened in silence as the creaking became louder and the platform became more and more unstable. With a terrifying squeak the construction gave up and crashed down. ‘This is ba-!’ Enya screamed. She tried to stand steady, but the platform was wobbling and turning as it went down. She felt her feet losing grip and her body would have tripped over if it was not for a strong muscly arm that grabbed her. Thorin held her tight to his chest as he kept his (AND HER) balance. He even managed to give her a ‘you clumsy lass’ look. Enya had to admit she liked the panty shredding look more. But seriously, how could he handle the situation with that laid-back attitude of his? She could not even manage herself… Their moment was roughly interrupted when the platform reached the ground. Enya bit her lip when found herself on top of Thorin. This was not bad at all. If she would land on him like this every time, she would definitely like to make this fall again. A hundred times even. ‘I’m sorry.’ She apologized. Thorin chuckled. ‘Let’s say I am happy it’s just you, and not Bombur.’ Enya frowned. ‘He is a lot heavier than you are’ he whispered and he gently stroked her face. ‘Is he now, captain obvious?’ Enya giggled. ‘Well, that could have been worse’ Bofur stated happily. Right after he finished his sentence, the (now dead) goblin king took his last revenge and his dead body landed on their group. ‘YOU’VE GOT TO BE JOKING!’ Dwalin hissed. ‘You should not have said that, Bofur! Damn you!’ Enya complained and reluctantly she got up. They all paused when they heard the sound of hundreds of mad goblin subjects. Enya sighed. Great. The hooligans were on the move again. ‘Gandalf?’ Kíli said as he stared in the darkness. ‘Only one thing can save us.’ Gandalf said. ‘Daylight. RUN!’ Everyone got up as quickly as they could and they ran for their lives again.

‘Oh thank god.’ Enya panted as they reached the safeness of daylight. ‘Where is the hobbit?’ Gandalf asked. ‘Where is Bilbo?’ The dwarves looked around. They all had no clue where the hobbit had gone. ‘Mister Baggings ran off to his comfortable home when he had the chance.’ Thorin stated. ‘He hasn’t thought of anything else since he left it.’ ‘No, you are wrong. He fell.’ Enya said, remembering what happened again. ‘He… tripped over the edge. He…’ ‘No, he is still here.’ Answered Bilbo as he appeared from behind the trees. ‘THANK GOD!’ Enya ran up to him and hugged him. Bilbo laughed, although he was feeling a bit awkward by her sudden affection. ‘I thought you…’ she whispered. ‘Why did you come back?’ asked Thorin, clearly puzzled. ‘Because you guys lost your home. And I want to help you to reclaim it, if I can.’ The hobbit said. Thorin smiled and gave Bilbo a grateful nod.

‘HEY!’ Everyone looked up. Enya rolled her eyes as she saw Dolvira emerging too. ‘I GOT NEARLY KILLED, LASS!’ She snarled. ‘Oh for fucks sake.’ She muttered. She turned to face the woman. ‘That is not my problem, honey. Damn, I should have left you in that cage. If you are truly a fucking commander of the fucking longbeards' army, then you should not have to rely on me to fucking survive, yeah?’ Enya frowned when she realized Dolvira wasn’t even listening at her. ‘Thorin’ she whispered. ‘Dolvira’ he said and his voice was clouded with emotion. She paced at him and gave him a long, tight hug. Enya turned to Gandalf and tried to see if HE know what was going on, but his face was riddled with genuine concern. When Dolvira finally let go of him, she turned to Enya with a devious smile. ‘Thank you for helping me find my love, Enya.’ She said in a sweet tone. Enya felt like her heart was crushed into a thousand pieces. Dolvira had been searching for her lover.

Thorin? Thorin.

WAIT, WHAT?