Chapter Text
Thorin's heavy steal-toed boots cause Belladonna's heirlooms to rattle and the dwarves quickly part for him like the Red Sea, leaving me alone to face his wrath. He's not happy to see me.
"A lost girl in the woods." He growls, his blue eyes flashing with fury. He stops abruptly, just two feet in front of me. "It seems I was played the fool. You're nothing but a spy."
Oh boy. I'm dead meat.
Frantically, I remind myself that Thorin isn't a bad guy, and his suspicion is justified. I just...gotta try and reason with him.
I give a nervous laugh, shaking my head and raising my hands up in surrender, "No no no! No, I am not a spy. I’m just here to see Gandalf and get help to return to my world. I'm not from Middle Earth and I won't be joining you or your company's quest!" My calm and reasonable voice unfortunately becomes annoyingly high and reedy by the end of my speech.
Damn, this guy makes me nervous. Although he's only a couple of inches taller than me, he knows how to use his height to his advantage as he glowers at me. For a dwarf, he’s actually quite tall, which only serves as a reminder of how short I am.
His voice drops to a low, dangerous tone, "Do I look like a simpleton to you? I knew something was amiss the moment I spotted you in those woods. You were sent to spy on me. You are clearly aware of our quest and have come to determine our plans. Who are you? And how did you discover that I would be here tonight?"
I look helplessly at the wizard behind him, silently pleading for backup, which Thorin seems to accept as my admission that it WAS said wizard.
"...GANDALF!?" He abruptly turns, his accusatory gaze fixed on the wizard behind us.
Gandalf stands silently off to the side, calmly watching the two of us interact. Bilbo remains in the middle of the room, watching with wide eyes, internally struggling on whether he should intervene.
"Why would you inform this human woman about our meeting here tonight?" Thorin demands angrily.
"I have not spoken a word of the quest to anyone, Thorin. I have only just met Miss Peyton Silva here a few hours ago. We had the opportunity to talk and I believe her to be trustworthy. She speaks the truth - she wishes to return to her home in another world." Gandalf's tone is reassuring.
Some of the dwarves murmur in wonder at this pronouncement and cast me curious looks. Balin and Dwalin, on the other hand, frown disapprovingly. They know that I know more than I let on, and if I was from another world then I shouldn't know those things.
"It's true. She's been a guest here in my home for the past two months, and I request that you treat her with respect."
All the dwarves turn to Bilbo who tries and holds himself as tall as he can while pronouncing those words. They are in his house after all.
I give Gandalf and Bilbo a grateful smile behind Thorin's back. I'm glad I have them on my side at least.
"Peyton Silva?" Thorin repeats. He makes it sound like the strangest name he's ever heard and I realize with a start that I had not once introduced myself to him during the entire two-hour ride we shared.
"Yes, uh, sorry for not introducing myself before. I didn't know if you had abducted me or...or if you were playing a prank on me, so I thought you might already know who I was. I'm not from this world, as Gandalf said and...well, that's why you noticed something 'off' about me when you first met me." I gesture to my charming hobbit dress I have on.
His gaze briefly flickers down my light green dress before returning to meet my eyes. It's clear he remembers my hot pink hoodie and jeans.
I blush at the perusal and continue, "I didn't know I was in Middle Earth and I thought you were lying. I'm actually really sorry about that, by the way. I didn't mean to make things difficult and...I really appreciate you helping me to Michel Delving. But I REALLY am here because I need Gandalf's help! I've been here for the past two months hoping to find him!"
Thorin's eyes narrow, at war on whether he should believe me or not. He decides on the latter with a shake of his head, "Impossible. Meeting you in the woods was no accident. I felt it then and I feel it now. How did you know Gandalf would be here?" His large arms cross over one another as he tries to intimidate me. "If this is some sort of elaborate plot to get the gold then it will be better for you to admit it."
I swallow. "I don't want a single gold coin. I just want to get home."
"And where is home, milady." He growls darkly, transporting me momentarily back to the woods when he asked me that very same question.
I straighten a little, a spark of defiance igniting inside me. Who does he think he is? King or not, I'm not going to let him walk all over me.
Folding my arms as well, I give him a pointed look, "Remember when I didn't believe you when you said we were in the Shire? Remember how I said I'm from a place called Nevada in the United States and you've never heard of that place? Remember this?" I pull out my long-dead cell phone from my dress pocket that I always carry with me.
His eyebrows furrow at the phone and he pauses; mirroring the same confusion as when I first showed it to him.
I extend my hand, offering it to him. He hesitates for a moment before accepting it, his gaze briefly meeting mine before returning to the smooth rectangular object.
"What was it you called it?" He asks, his deep voice calmer than before.
"A cellphone." I smile hesitantly, glad to see he's less angry. "As for our meeting not being a coincidence, well, I agree. And so does Gandalf. If you hadn't found me when you did I probably would have been dead in a couple of days. I never planned on meeting you, Thorin Oakenshield, but…I'm glad I did."
I give him a genuine smile, grateful to him, hopeful that somehow he'll believe me. Though he doesn't smile in return, the harsh lines in his face soften. He remains silent, his gaze fixed on me. I can't help but wonder what he's thinking?
I blush, and quickly add, "Also, uh, I'm sorry I called you mad and despicable and stupid. And a crazy delusional cosplay jerk."
He furrows his brow, attempting to recall our conversation. "You did not call me all of those things." He states, sounding slightly puzzled.
"Yeah, but I was thinking it." I shrug.
His eyebrows arch and his posture seems to relax a little more at my honesty as we both remember the story in a new, almost funny light. Neither one of us were crazy; we were both very sane individuals who simply had been caught in a very strange situation. Overall, we actually behaved ourselves quite well. All things considered.
The clarifying moment we're sharing abruptly shatters with Gandalf's loud voice, "Well! Now that that's out of the way…..Perhaps his Highness would care for some dinner?"
For the briefest moment I forgot that we have an audience! I look behind Thorin and notice that all the dwarves, Gandalf and Bilbo included, have been hanging onto every word he and I have spoken. Most of them appear shocked, likely due to my previous name-calling of their king. Dwalin and Balin just look confused.
I look back at Thorin's face and I can sense that the worst is behind us as his temper seems to have cooled. He may even believe me a bit more?
"This conversation is far from over." His says, his voice calm but resolute.
I slump. Or not.
Although there's no smile on his face, something in his eyes gives me the impression that he's somewhat amused by my disappointed reaction. After observing me for a moment more, he turns and strides into the dining room and I'm able to release the breath I've been holding.
The rest of the dwarves give me different curious and bewildered expressions before following their king's example and go into the table room. Dwalin is no longer scowling, which I take as a good sign, and Gandalf gives me an encouraging smile.
I narrow my eyes, giving him an annoyed look as I hiss quietly, “Seriously Gandalf?! Stuck to the floor?!”
Gandalf doesn’t reply but merely winks and turns to enter the room as well, beckoning me to come along. His eyes sparkle with mischief.
I'm not sure what he was expecting but there was literally nothing in Thorin and my conversation to suggest that I'm here to save him from Azog. Can I go home now?
Everyone finds themselves sitting at the cleared and crowded table, myself included. A white-haired dwarf with intricate braids all around his head, possibly Dori, puts a bowl of thick potato soup in front of Thorin, who acknowledges him a nod and a murmur of gratitude. Bilbo remains standing, positioning himself inconspicuously behind Gandalf.
As Thorin eats, the Dwarves fill him in on the different areas they reside at in the Blue Mountains. He eats much more calmly than the others had earlier. I can't help but steal glances at him when he's not looking. But every once in a while, our eyes meet and we briefly study one another before I look away. I had forgotten how handsome he is.
"So! What news of the meeting in Erid Luin? Did they all come?"
"Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms." He murmurs after swallowing his last spoonful. The room erupts in excited exclamations, the dwarves eager for battle against Smaug.
"What did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin asks. "Is Dain with us?"
Thorin's expression visibly turns disheartened, and a tiny bit apologetic, "They will not come." His states, his voice tinged with disappointment. Murmurs fill the room as he adds, "They say this quest is ours and ours alone."
"What's the purpose of this quest?" Bilbo speaks up for the first time.
All eyes turn to Bilbo, but Thorin directs his gaze to me.
"Miss Peyton hasn't told you?" He asks, voice betraying no emotion even though his eyes lock into mine challengingly.
I meet his look with one of my own. Not a spy!
"No, she neglected to mention anything about the events of this night." Bilbo turns a now angry gaze at me.
I release a heavy sigh, "You know I couldn't Bilbo." I give him a meaningful look to remind him about the dangers of knowing the future.
I didn't mention anything about quests these past two months in order to not tip him off. But he obviously knows they're going on a quest since Thorin and I took that particular cat out of the bag very publicly in his front parlor.
Gandalf clears his throat, "Miss Peyton can be trusted with this knowledge. In fact, she already knows more than I do on the subject." He ignores everyone's confused looks and proceeds to pull out his map.
I try and smile in a friendly (and unsuspicious) way at the shocked (and suspicious) glances of everyone at the table, especially his Highness who is listening to Gandalf explain to Bilbo about the Lonely Mountain while watching me.
Sighing to myself, I readjust my posture to slouch a little in my chair, that way my bottom is more comfy while Gandalf speaks. Yes, I know what the map says. Yes, I know about the hidden runes. Yes, I know how they get into the Lonely Mountain. And YES, I definitely know the hardships they will face on their quest. While amazing to see this all play out in realtime (especially seeing the bizarre braids adorning every dwarf that Tolkien failed to mention), it's all a bit redundant.
"...Aye! Boin has read the portents and the portents say it is time!" A red-haired dwarf (that I'll bet my dead cellphone is Gloin) speaks up. He looks just like Gimli!
Some of the dwarves roll their eyes at Gloin's pronouncement as if it's something they've heard many times but don't have much patience for.
Ah, now that’s something interesting!
I turn to the person next to me, a dwarf with a strange hat. Trying to be subtle, I speak out the side of my mouth, "Who's Boin? And what are 'portents'?"
"Boin is Gloin and Oin's eldest brother. And portents are omens, lass. Prophecies. They come from our seers." He whispers softly back to me.
My eyes widen in astonishment as I turn my head towards him, "Gloin and Oin have an older brother?!"
Bofur, I think it is, takes in my amazed expression and gives me a look, amazed himself, "Ye knew Oin and Gloin before tonight?"
Aw, Crap. "Uhh, kinda? But…wait, dwarves have seers?" I try and steer the conversation away from me.
Bofur raises an eyebrow but allows himself to be led away regardless, "Aye, we do. And they-…" he stops whispering, looking chagrined. I turn to see Thorin glaring at the two of us for whispering. He doesn't say anything, but his look is enough to make crickets stop singing. I sink lower into my seat and keep quiet. The conversation begins once more.
"Back to what I was saying..." Oin gives me a glare as well, "When the ravens return to Erebor the beast's reign shall end, as it was foretold!" He turns his glare to the dwarves who had seemed skeptical earlier.
Why didn't Boin come on the quest? A seer would be useful to have around. Based on some of the dwarves' reactions, I wonder if they think Boin is crazy or something.
Well, he's obviously not since he was right.
"Beast, what beast?" Bilbo exclaims, looking over at me anxiously.
Oh crap. Avoid eye contact… Avoid eye contact with Bilbo… Avoid eye-
"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, the chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." The dwarf I had been talking to speaks up and answers since Bilbo is looking in his and my direction, "Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks, extremely fond of precious metals…"
"Yes, I know what a dragon is!" interrupts an annoyed Bilbo.
That's actually something I think I would enjoy on such a quest as this: seeing an actual living dragon for real!
I can't help my small smirk that lifts one of the corners of my mouth as I watch Bilbo have a fit. Bilbo's going to talk circles around Smaug, and he doesn't even know it. I puff a chuckle through my nose quietly to myself only to glance over at Thorin (I keep doing that!), only to feel a butterfly in my throat as I see that he's watching me again. His eyes narrow at my smile about a dragon while everyone else is dead serious with a hint of fear. I look away and across the table to avoid his eyes as Ori exclaims he's going to stick his sword up Smaug's butt.
"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," says Balin. "But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."
"Don't worry. You'll all make it." I look up and give Balin a reassuring smile.
Crickets.
No, really, there's a cricket chirping in a corner somewhere. It's uncanny. And awkward. I blush as I mentally hit myself repeatedly in the head with an imaginary cane.
"What did she say?" asks a deaf dwarf holding an ear trumpet.
"How would you know?" Dwalin scowls darkly at me, ignoring the other dwarf's question.
"Uh, just…a feeling. I mean...you all seem very…capable." I say lamely before hiding behind my teacup, sipping slowly.
"I agree with Miss Peyton! We may be few in number, but we're fighters. All of us! To the last dwarf!" encourages Fili.
I smile widely at him and he back at me. He and Ori are officially my favorites.
"And you forget!" adds Kili, "We have a wizard in our company! Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!"
"Oh, well, now, uh, I…I…I wouldn't say that, I…" The wizard splutters.
I turn to grin at him vindictively. Yes! Let's all pick on Gandalf!
"How many then?" demands a dwarf.
"Uh, what?" Gandalf asks, entirely too innocent.
"Well, how many dragons have you killed?" Dori asks.
Gandalf looks like he's going to have a coughing fit with smoke from his pipe coming out of his ears, "Hmph….Hmph!…"
"Go on, give us a number!"
Then the arguing starts. All the dwarves get to their feet arguing about lord only knows what. l notice with something akin to fascination that some of them are getting rather red in the face. I'm shocked. THIS is the company of Thorin Oakenshield? THIS is the group of individuals that battle against goblins, trolls, spiders, and even elves to take back the Lonely Mountain? Wow. Appearances are very deceiving.
Very.
I look over to see what Thorin's reaction is to all of this mess, only to discover that he and I are the only ones at the table who have remained quiet and in our seats. Even Gandalf is protesting loudly.
Thorin finally has enough of it, "SHAZARA!" he bellows, standing up and shocking everyone instantly.
The room becomes dead silent as the dwarves settle down (even the cricket) and he leans over the table, his voice thunderous and then quiet, "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk." He glances at me pointedly, and I quirk an unamused expression back at him. Not a spy, dude! "Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected? Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!"
The dwarves cheer and I can't help but admire Thorin's courage. Taking a mountain back from a dragon? That takes bal-...erm, that takes a sword. A lot of swords.
Stop. You're not funny.
"You forget," Balin interjects, "The front gate is sealed! There is no way into the mountain." He gives me a look as if daring me to refute it.
I give him a teeny tiny smile and then pointedly glance over to where Gandalf is seated and then back at Balin just as Gandalf speaks up, "That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." He reaches into his grey cloak and pulls out a rather old-looking key on a long chain.
Balin's eyes widen before turning to look back at me, flabbergasted. I give him a wink while raising my teacup at him in a mock toast. Man, it is SO fun to mess with them! Might as well have fun since I'm leaving tonight.
Thorin's face also looks shocked, "How came you by this?"
"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now."
"If there is a key, there must be a door," states Fili, looking excited
"Yes. These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower hills," Gandalf nods.
"There's another way in..." Kili gives everyone an amazed look.
I study Kili and Fili, not having much chance to do so earlier. They're so much more...vibrant than either the book or cartoon portrayed them. They're funny and have distinct personalities. They're living and breathing and real. There's so much more depth to them and their lives than I thought. I clearly don't know them at all. I don't know any of them at all.
Such bright lights snuffed out of existence by evil designs. I haven't had a lot of death in my life besides my grandpa and I'm suddenly hit by an overwhelming sadness for Kili and Fili and Thorin. I've never met someone who I knew would be dead in a few months or how they would die. I've never known the future before.
I glance back to the leader of this misfit group, studying his face while he listens intently to what Gandalf is saying. I blink fast and take deep breaths to myself to get my emotions under control. Since I'm going home, I might as well pull Thorin to the side and let him know the future. Then Gandalf can send me back and I'll see if the Hobbit book has changed at all in my world.
"Well, if we can find it...” Gandalf continues, “but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it." At this pronouncement, Gandalf suddenly looks up at me with a hopeful gaze, "Perhaps...you could?"
I raise my eyebrows at him in surprise as all the dwarves turn to me once more in amazement. A coy smile then spreads across my face, and I chuckle and shake my head, "Aww, c'mon Gandalf. That's cheating!" I raise my hands up in mock innocence, "I'm not even supposed to be here. You'll have to go with your original plan."
Gandalf gives me a reprimanding look as if to say 'Yes, you ARE supposed to be here.', but Thorin is the one who actually speaks. "You are able to read Ancient Dwarvish?" The poor guy looks so confused right now. Not even suspicious, just confused.
"Uhhh…"
What would happen if I told him? If I change the story on purpose? Do they really need to go to Rivendell?
Meh, let them suffer elf company. Besides, Bilbo really wants to meet the elves.
"No, I cannot read ancient Dwarvish."
It's not a lie. I don't need to read it. I already know what it says.
"Then why does Gandalf think you can?" Thorin insists with a deep intimidating voice, his signature glower back.
Gandalf pipes up in my defense, "Peyton here not only comes from another world, a thing I've never encountered before, but she's also privy to…a special knowledge about our quest."
I frown at Gandalf. Wasn't he JUST telling me in the parlor to keep my foreknowledge to myself? Or is everyone supposed to know that I know the future but I just can't tell them? What's the point to all of this when I'm leaving tonight anyways?
"What kind of knowledge?" Thorin asks me seriously.
"The knowing kind." I supply unhelpfully with the most sincere smile I can muster for him. "The future kind."
"A seer!" The dwarves seem to murmur around the table. I see some expressions of amazment and some of disgusted disbelief.
Well, I mean, I did see the cartoon. So technically…..?
But honestly, I really think this is my cue. Time to bow out before I ruin anything else in the story. I delicately finish the tea in my teacup, before pushing the teacup and saucer away as I stand up and say pleasantly, "Well! I best be off. Gandalf? If you would be so kind?"
Gandalf looks surprised, "You're not leaving?!"
Thorin slowly stands as well, his face expressionless, "No. She isn't. She knows too much." He gives Gandalf a look as if to say 'I told you so.'
Dwalin and Balin both stand as well to show support for their king, their faces stoic and stern as they watch me.
I glare at them all and roll my eyes at Thorin's paranoia, "I'm not going to blab to everyone in Middle Earth about your quest, I'm going HOME to another WORLD! Your secret is safe with me."
I clap my hands lightly together and address to the room with a smile, "It was lovely to meet all of you. Some less than others…..Yes, Dwalin...that was referring to you." I pointedly shoot him a sarcastically sweet smirk (and get a darkly amused one in return) before looking pleasantly back at the group, "Now then! You all have a quest to plan for, and I have a college semester to make up." I look at Gandalf and smile firmly, "So! Do you want to do it here or somewhere more private?"
Gandalf frowns, confused, "Do what?"
"Send me home of course."
Gandalf finally catches on and his eyes take on a sympathetic look as he shakes his head, "I'm afraid that I can't help you, Miss Peyton."
A stab of incredulous fear hits me in the stomach like a spike. Multiple things run through my head: Shock. Dread. And then I settle on annoyance (with a hint of embarrassment). I mean, this is GANDALF we're talking about. Of course, he can help me.
"Can't help me, or won't help me?” I narrow my eyes at him.
"A bit of both." He replies impertinently, pulling out his pipe and lighting it with his finger. He puffs out a smoke ring and continues seriously, "But mostly can't. The Valar have not told me how to send you home, my dear, and until they do that... it is out of my hands and in theirs."
Why I never! He and I engage in a glaring contest but he has more impressive eyebrows than me, unfortunately. So he wins by default.
Gandalf then abruptly decides to ignore me, leaving me standing there with my head spinning, "Back to the task at hand...if Miss Peyton here cannot read the map, then there are others in Middle-Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done."
"That's why we need a burglar!" Little Ori says excitedly.
Bilbo, who has been listening intently to all these shenanigans merely nods and hums.
Everyone looks at him. He frowns and looks back at them, "Hmm? Pardon?" He asks, wondering what he had missed.
"A burglar, Mister Baggins." Thorin rumbles as he slowly sits back down, his mood foul.
"Yes? What about it?" Bilbo asks him, confused.
"We need one." Thorin glares up at him.
Bilbo shakes his head and tutts at such an expenditure, "Yes, you do. An expert I'd imagine." He gives a quirk of his shoulder and a huff of breath just thinking of the daunting task the dwarves have before them. Not only of finding an expert burglar, but also one that is willing to steal from a dragon.
I slowly sit back down as well, having stood here like an idiot until now. I realize that I'm going to have to go to Rivendell as I had originally planned. Perhaps Elrond will know of a way?
I absently notice that both Balin and Dwalin sit down as well, eyes on me.
"And...are you?" Gloin asks.
"Am I what?" Bilbo asks, not making the connection.
"He says he's an expert!" Oin joyfully proclaims, the trumpet to his ear. The company starts murmuring excitedly.
"Who?! ME?! No, no, no, no, don't be absurd! I've never stolen anything in my life!" Bilbo vehemently denies.
Balin and Dwalin immediately start criticizing Bilbo and his capability to survive in the wild and Bilbo nods along with everything they say.
I watch my good friend nodding and agreeing with them and I realize something incredibly fascinating. Why would Gandalf choose an honest, altruistic hobbit to steal something? It is quite a strange thing, isn't it? I ponder that for a moment trying to see if there's something to it that I'm missing.
"With only fourteen members of a company, those are some high odds against us," Gloin speaks up, giving me an almost respectful look. Both he and Oin seem most accepting of my presence as a seer.
"Fifteen." Gandalf gently corrects as he pulls the pipe from his mouth. At Gloin's confused look, Gandalf nods to me, "You forget Miss Peyton here."
"What?!" I say as my mouth drops open.
Thorin's anger is back and hot, "No. Absolutely not."
"Yeah, I'm with him! Absolutely not!"
He and I share a look, both of us a bit surprised that we are agreeing on anything for the first time.
"You can't deny that someone from another world who knows of your quest and the future of the company would be an invaluable tool to take with you!" Gandalf insists earnestly, clearly very excited by the prospect.
Thorin's response is low and angry, "No. You insist I must bring this halfling with me, now you want to bring a human girl? Why don't we pick up an elf while we're at it!" Thorin's voice has slowly risen while talking until he is positively thundering by the end of his speech. "Are you trying to make a mockery of this quest? A girl on a quest such as this would only bring ruin and hardship on us all!"
"Hey!" I cry out indignantly, our shared moment of agreeing on something now blown to smithereens. "First off, I'm not a girl, I'm a woman. And second off, you'll all do just fine bringing ruin and hardship on yourselves without me." I scoff and roll my eyes, muttering to myself, "If anything, I could only make your trip better."
Not that I'm coming. I would literally die.
Gandalf intercedes, "The Valar have sent her to us…to YOU, Thorin…for this quest to occur. You do not find it odd that you, of all people, found her alone in the middle of nowhere as you traveled to Bree? Only to then meet me in Bree and begin preparations for this very night? She could not be a spy, for you met her when your plan for a quest had not yet even begun! And therefore; if you do not accept that kind of help from them, you are an utter fool." Gandalf finishes his speech with an angry bite.
Thorin's glower falters as he ponders Gandalf's words and Gandalf continues more calmly, "Both Human and Hobbit are essential to your quest. You must trust my judgment on this." Gandalf gazing at Thorin earnestly. Is he placing a spell on him or something?!
Thorin considers him and then turns his arresting blue eyes to me. I falter under the intensity of his gaze.
How can Thorin even be considering this?! What the heck is Gandalf DOING?!
"Uh, Gandalf?" I abruptly stand once more, making my chair squeak, "A word, if you please?"
I widen my eyes meaningfully at him before gingerly sliding past the dwarves sitting to my left. I slide and shimmy around the chairs to make it to the doorway, getting stuck a few times. I used to be thin, but eating Bilbo's rich food five times a day with no treadmill in Hobbiton has made me not as thin as I used to be.
I notice Thorin shake his head briefly at Balin and Dwalin who don't aggressively rise this time.
Gandalf is seated in a much better location, and arises fairly easily "Please excuse us for a moment." He says cordially to the group as I finally squeeze past the last dwarf. "And I recommend giving Bilbo the contract while I am speaking with Miss Peyton."
"Wha- wait a second..." Bilbo begs but to no avail, sounding like me. "No! Please!"
I ignore Thorin's burning gaze as I head for the front door but I hear him mumbling something to Gandalf that sounds suspiciously like ‘call for me if she tries to run’ before he loudly saying to Balin, "Give him the contract."
I open the door, indicating for Gandalf to step out with me before we go down the steps and around the side path to the gardens on the other side of Bilbo's home. The luminous full moon casts enough of a glow on our surroundings that it's easy to see one another. The crickets chirp softly in the slightly chilled air, and the owl that Bilbo and I fondly named 'Harold' hoots from the woods down the road.
Finally, I whirl around to face Gandalf. He has been following at an easy pace, and I take a deep breath of the cool night air, trying to keep my tone calm. I decide to go for an innocent, soft approach to try and match the gentle energy of the Shire around me, "Gandalf? What are you doing?" Maybe I just misunderstood him? There's no reason to jump to conclusions.
"It appears to me that you have found yourself in a conundrum, my dear." Gandalf says lightly, "Better that you stay with us."
Gandalf's pleasant smile reminds me of a doddering grandfather, and the immediate resemblance to Dumbledore makes me frown. I'm not falling for it!
"What do you mean 'stay with you'? I already told you that the quest is a success. You can't seriously be suggesting for me to come WITH you guys."
I fold my arms, my gaze earnest as I try to steady my trembling hands. There's a reason I refuse to go on the quest (the real reason that holds me back). And it has nothing to do with Thorin.
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting." He purses his lips in consternation at my tone and grumbles to himself. "I already have one person to convince to come on this journey, don't make me have to convince two people!"
"But Gandalf!" I gasp and stutter, my resolve to remain cool and calm crumbles as my anxiety boils over, "I need to get home! I don't belong here! It's been two months, Gandalf! TWO MONTHS! My family probably thinks I'm dead! I-I appreciate the offer, I really do...but...but...I just can't! I thought you would send me back tonight!" I'm shrieking by the end of my speech, but I can't help it. I feel like my chest is tight, so I need to push my words out more forcefully to get them out. My blood pressure has gone up and it's hard to breathe with my heart thudding loudly in my ears.
Panicking. I'm panicking again.
Gandalf frowns, his gaze fixed on my frantic breathing. "Where on Middle Earth did you get the impression that I would have such power to send you through time and space to another world?" His voice carries a mix of surprise and frustration. "That is beyond my power, and you should know this, considering that you know who I am." He shoots me a 'you dumb!' look before continuing. "The Valar have sent you here, and it is the Valar who will decide when you are to return."
I lower my tone so we won't be overheard by anyone who might have followed us, "Gandalf, I told you that they all make it to Erebor in one piece. There's no need for me in this story! Bilbo finds his courage, Smaug is defeated, a huge battle commences with five different armies, and…then…" I choke, my words failing me.
"And then Thorin is killed." Gandalf finishes gravely, leaning on his tall staff. He then gets a bit agitated, "I would think that you might have a bit more compassion for all that Thorin has gone through and has yet to GO through in order to reclaim his home!"
I lower my head in shame, "I…I just….Please don't mistake my acceptance of his death as a lack of compassion for him." I softly murmur, wringing the material of my dress anxiously, "It's just…part of the story, you know? It's not like I want Thorin, and Fili, and Kili dead or anything."
"Fili and Kili are killed too?!" Gandalf asks in dismay.
I snap my head up, my eyes wide as I realize that up to this point, Gandalf had only thought it was Thorin that needed saving. I nod guiltily.
"So the whole line of Durin is destroyed..." his voice is grave and he looks distantly out over the Shire contemplating the matter. He seems to lean on his staff more heavily as he passes a weary hand over his forehead. He looks at me, "Who takes over the throne of Erebor once they are gone?"
I fidget with my hobbit dress, not meeting his eyes, "Umm, the cousin. Dain."
I glance up to his face and he has even more wrinkles than usual as his aura takes on a sad, puzzled tone.
"Gandalf," I say tiredly as I shake my head. I give up. It's time to come clean. "Do you want the truth? The real reason I can't go? The honest, deep-down ACTUAL reason that I REALLY can not go?"
Gandalf's eyebrows raise up in surprise and I take it as a yes.
" I…I have…arachnophobia."
"Arachan-what?" Gandalf clearly is not expecting THAT answer.
"Arachnophobia. It's the extreme fear of spiders. I can't even go into my parent's basement or our cluttered garage because I know they're there." I scuff the toe of my sneakers in the grass, certain of what he's thinking. I feel ashamed and embarrassed about it. But it's not an unfounded fear like a fear of clowns or something! Some spider bites can be fatal, and even if they're NOT fatal, they can make you sick or necrotize your flesh! So...it's not an unfounded fear, even though it is a bit disabling.
I know of so many people who would come to Middle Earth in a heartbeat and drop everything just to go on a quest. Especially to save wonderful and handsome male specimens such as the Durinsons. But I can't be the one for the job for two simple reasons. Number One: I'm not Dwayne the Rock Johnson. And Number Two: The eight-legged creatures that lurk in the webby trees of Mirkwood forest will 100% eat me on this quest if I go into that forest!
Once upon a time, when my siblings and I were younger and we imagined we were on Middle Earth adventures, I always flew over Mirkwood on an eagle during the Quest for Erebor while my brothers all went through the dark forest with their stick swords fighting off imaginary spiders and hanging upside down while yelling on the tree branches pretending to be caught in webs.
Yeah. We were those kids.
I didn't want to starve or get kidnapped by spiders. (I was royalty, so I didn't have time for that.) And when my brothers all said I was a horrible King, abandoning them to face the spiders alone, I'd get them all cookies I stole from the pantry and we'd pretend it was from the men in Laketown.
"Come now, be reasonable." Gandalf doesn't seem to be buying my fear and looks at me like I'm lying. "Spiders and insects are in every corner of the world! You can't avoid them. Even if you remained here in the Shire you would encounter PLENTY of them."
"Gandalf!" I can't help but feel defensive. "Arachnophobia isn't as irrational a fear as needles or a dark closet! Spiders bite! And there are giant spiders in Mirkwood! GIANT! SPIDERS! GANDALF! The size of dogs! If they weren't giant and were normal-sized, then I would totally go! I don't care about orcs, I don't care about goblins! I don't care about wargs, trolls, orcs, yeah, I know I said orcs twice! Or anything else that Middle Earth has to offer! Heck, Sauron himself doesn't freak me out! He's just a stupid fiery eye on a tower for Pete's sake! But if I go into Mirkwood...I will never. come. out. again! And if I somehow did make it out by some miracle...then I would have to go live at a psychiatric hospital, sipping applesauce from a straw for the rest of my life in a catatonic state! Do you understand me?!"
It is clear from his raised brow and flabbergasted wide eyes as he huffs and puffs furiously at his pipe that, no, he doesn't understand most of what I'd just said.
I bet the Sauron part confused and frightened him and he's questioning my sanity for fearing spiders over him. But I mean seriously. The guy is a fiery eyeball for crying out loud. Or at least…he will be? I honestly don't know where he is right now. Maybe secretly building up Mordor? In the realm of scary villains, Sauron is pretty pathetic in my opinion and he's not that scary. Spiders are definitely worse.
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, massaging my forehead and eyebrows. "In OTHER words, Gandalf, the answer is: I'm sorry, but no. I want to!...But no. I literally can't do it."
"And what will you do instead, Miss Peyton? Hmm?" Gandalf completely loses his patience and gets frustrated, throwing his arm in a grand sweeping motion as he indicates the Shire below us, "Sit here and keep house while Bilbo is away? Never finding a way back home again?"
I purse my lips and give a sarcastic 'hmmm' as I glance at the lights of Hobbiton with a thoughtful look as if I was considering it.
"No." Gandalf's firm voice interrupts my musing, and I look back at him. He has a twinkle in his eye, "No, my dear. It wasn't a suggestion…so don't even think about it." He finishes with a half-amused growl and takes the pipe out of his mouth, waving the little end at me like a naughty child.
I smile half-heartedly at him. "I wasn't going to anyways. I was already planning on leaving for Rivendell in the morning. I could travel with you guys until we arrive?"
Stabbing guilt gnaws at my stomach and I suddenly have an idea! It would solve all our problems! Just like in the game I played!
"Gandalf, just call the eagles!" I say excitedly. "Seriously, this can all be over and done within a week if you just call them and ask for a ride! Have them fly the group over the Misty Mountains, over Mirkwood, across Laketown, and drop us off at the front door! Thorin will be King by next Friday!"
I fold my arms and give him a satisfied look. It technically wouldn't be next Friday, since Durin's Day isn't until whenever it is. But…semantics!
"Call the eagles?!" Gandalf gapes at me as if I'm daft, "The eagles are a proud race! The most noble of all the races! What would you say if a group of mice asked you to carry them across the Shire? The eagles are not some….ferry service that fly people to and fro across Middle Earth! It's egg season and they have very difficult duties and issues to attend to in their own kingdom. You can't just call eagles for every adventure you decide to go on! That would defeat the purpose!"
"What purpose?" I scoff, although I inwardly admit that he brings up some good points about the eagles that I've never thought about.
Gandalf closes his eyes and breathes deeply, clearly at his wits end thanks to me, and is most likely praying to his beloved, meddling Valar for strength. He's not used to such a perplexing woman who says such perplexing things. He turns away from me, muttering to himself, and starts walking back down the garden path towards Bilbo's front door.
I stare after him wide-eyed. Rude!
"Well, they're going to help you on your journey anyways!" I call after him. I quickly chase after him. I'm not giving up this argument. "When they do come and pick us up, just have them fly us the rest of the way! A few extra hours for them is weeks of traveling for us! Heck, we could pay them to help us so it's not some charity act! I'll give them my 1/16 of the treasure since I won't be needing it!"
But if I pay them, wouldn't that prove Gandalf's point about a ferry service? Besides what are a bunch of eagles going to do with gold anyways?
Gandalf whirls back to me furiously as he reaches the door, halting my thought process, "Peyton, do not treat this as some sort of joke!"
It's dark outside Bilbo's house, but the moon is big enough to shed some light on the garden. The shadows around him begin to dance eerily. The air vibrates with buzzing energy while at the same time growing colder. Wait…didn't I read somewhere that Gandalf and Sauron are, like, related or something? Both of them are Maiars or something? Hmmm, that makes sense.
Should I calm him down? I think to myself as I watch him throw a temper tantrum.
"Stop treating this as an inconvenient joke that you can't be put upon to offer your aid and foreknowledge!" He continues to rant.
My eyebrows scrunch together, unimpressed. This IS an inconvenient joke. This is all supposed to be a F.A.I.R.Y.T.A.L.E.! Fairytales are very unserious things…
His voice turns even darker, causing my eyes to widen and my heart pound in my chest as I struggle to draw in breaths, "This is a matter of life and death, Peyton Silva! These are real people, with real histories, and real purpose... This isn't some fairytale that you can put down and forget at a whim's notice-"
My eyes widen. Did he just read my thoughts? Can Gandalf DO that? He never did in the book…
"And the eagles have given me their trust to only call in dire need." He raises his voice to drive home his message, "DIRE need! I will not betray that trust, no matter how frightened of spiders you may be."
His energy slowly shrinks in on himself, and the shadows recede. The light from the moon grows bright once more.
It isn't logical or rational, since I know Gandalf isn't a bad guy, but I am actually terrified of him at that moment. Gandalf is good. But that doesn't mean he can't make my life difficult. And my life doesn't need to be any more difficult than it is. It's already the most difficult it's ever been.
My eyes begin to shine with hot hopeless tears and I grit my teeth in order to not let them fall. I'm not a crier but I can't do this! I'm not strong or noble or brave.
I clench my fists to keep them from shaking. If Giant Blood-Sucking Spiders aren't a dire need then I don't know WHAT is.
Those stupid tears decide to fall anyways down my cheeks even though I tried really hard to suck them back down into my little eye holes. I always cry when I'm angry, which is really just me being afraid and hiding it with my pride. It makes me even more angry when that happens, and it becomes a huge cycle.
My breath stutters as I hold back from crying. I don't want to go through fear, and pain, and darkness. I just want to go home.
Gandalf watches me warily for a moment, and then sighs. It's almost like a bunch of air deflates out of him. He suddenly kneels before me on one knee, causing me to flinch back in surprise at this humble gesture. He looks me in the eye and gently takes one of my trembling hand in his warm weathered ones.
"We fall. We break. We fail," his words are barely more than a gentle rumble but they pierce the center of my soul like the sharpest blade and my tears stop short, "but then," he pauses for effect, "We rise. We heal. We overcome. And you are here, my dear Peyton, because you need to learn that."
I don't ask him why I can't simply learn that in my own world. Surely I could have. But adventures are for growing, especially adventures in other worlds. And little do I know just how much growing I will do in this adventure, and all the years to follow afterwards.
"Will you come with us to Erebor?" He asks directly. No force, no coercion...just a simple question gently hanging in the air between the two of us while he's down on one knee.
His youthful blue eyes set in his ancient face give me a courage that seems to sing forth from inside of me.
They remind me of Thorin's blue eyes.
Like he said earlier…sometimes you just understand things with your heart, that you don't know with your head. And so I seal my fate.
"Ok. I will try."