It's been a long time since I've posted, but I haven't forgotten this story! I have many Chapters written (18!) but decided it best to re-write some of the earlier ones. There are things I do not like anymore due to my change in writing style. Also, some plotlines no longer worked the way I needed towards the end. Good things to come I promise!

Italicized words will mostly be thoughts. But of course some are for emphasizing. Long lines of italic words in quotes will be singing/reading from a book.

I do not own any of the characters except for Christianna, my OC. Everything else belongs to Tolkien!

Christianna is a beautiful woman. She has a nice heart-shaped face; and big, sparkling, hazel colored eyes. A fairly nice sized nose, and beautiful lips; the top one a bit thin and the bottom one plump. Her hair a ravishing mocha-brown color with a single golden streak on the right side of her head. The length of it cascaded in layers just past her shoulders. She is not a particularly large girl, neither in weight or height. Average was more like it. She wore a knee length sundress, deep blue in color, which hugged her body well before flaring out past her hips.

She stood at the edge of her bed, staring at a lone book that lay upon the blankets. The fable within beckoning to once again consume her. Maybe, just maybe it'll be different this time, she thought. Though she knew better than that, stories don't change just because you want them to. The plot is fixed; the good, and the bad.

Her dress flowed as she made her way around the furniture; dragging her fingertips along the surface, and gently grasping the novel in her hand.

In one swift movement she was sitting on top, her legs spread out in front of her and crossed at her ankles. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before glancing over at a clock that hung on the wall.

"It's near four o'clock," she whispered to herself, "On Wednesday, April 26th. If we had the same calendar, your journey would be starting soon." She clenched the book tight. Let me join you this time as well. That was her last thought before she opened the front cover, slowly turning the pages until she reached the first chapter.

Her eyes glistened as she started to read. Sentences passed. Paragraphs. But she did not make it through the chapter before her brow began to furrow.

"What the hell?" She gaped as what she was reading finally processed in her mind.

"'You asked me to find the fourteenth and fifteenth members of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest.'"

She shook her head, Fifteen members? There's not fifteen members of the company. Unless you count Gandalf himself of course. She quickly returned her attention to the story.

"'He's got a lot more to offer than any of you know, including himself.'"

She lifted her head and her gaze softened, Many times I have read this, could I really have missed the mention of a fifteenth member? She shrugged it off. It was, as it stands, just a small detail. Or so she thought.

She continued to read quietly to herself.

"'Then it would seem we have a problem.' Thorin pointed out. 'As we are lacking this fifteenth member.'"

"The wizard simply smirked and tilted his head towards the ceiling. 'Ah. Yes. I do think she is quite ready to join you on your quest.'"

"'She?' The dwarf snorted disapprovingly."

"'Yes, she.' Gandalf snapped. 'You must trust me on this.' And with that he closed his eyes, beginning to murmur a spell. Words in a language unknown to the dwarves around him."

Christanna had not realized how intense her focus had gotten. She was now upright, leaning forward with her legs crossed beneath her. So engrossed in the changing story before her that she did not notice the world around her morph as she began to carefully float downwards. The murmuring she read of quickly filled her ears and her mind processed the words as a form of Evish. Though it was not until she landed carefully atop a hard surface did her head jerk away from the book in front of her. She found herself sitting on the table of an all-to-familiar dining room; everything exactly as she had always pictured.

It was a small room, far too small to accommodate the wizard, thirteen dwarves, and hobbit whose gazes all fell upon her. A dimly lit, almost eerie glow illuminating the look of shock on their faces. There were a few plates of food and mugs of ale scattered around her. Shelves with knickknacks and cookery lined the walls between the windows and doorway. The only movement she made came from her eyes as they took in every detail. She held her breath when they finally locked with the gray wizard.

He bowed his head to her. "Welcome, my lady Christianna."

The bow of her head was hardly noticeable.

"No, no, no!" Bilbo shouted wearily. He stomped his foot and rubbed his temple.

Gandalf smiled coyly. "What on earth is the matter?"

The Hobbit shot a sharp look towards the wizard. "What is- the- there is-." He stuttered before rolling his mouth in a way that made him look like a rabbit. "A person, a girl just floated out of my ceiling." He squeaked.

"Yes yes, but an important one at that." The wizard waved his hand to stop any more protests from the Halfling. "You will all know in time, for now I would say introductions are in order, yes?"

She shook her head 'no,' quite quickly as a matter of fact. Then she collected herself with a deep breath, and although already knowing the answer, asked: "Where am I?" It came out much more pitiful than she meant it to.

"Why you're in the home of Mr. Boggins of course!" A voice called from behind her.

She shot to her feet, the book clenched against her chest. The voice came from a young dwarf. He was handsome, oh yes, with dark brown almost black hair and eyes to match. His beard was lesser than that of a normal dwarf but it suited him well. Too well. He gave her a smile that threatened to turn her bones to jello. "Kili." She said under her breath.

His eyes went wide and the dwarf next to him spoke this time. "You know his name?"

Dirty blonde hair, light eyes, adorable mustache braids. "Fili." She swallowed, then slowly began to turn full circle. "Oin, Bifur, Dwalin, Bofur, Balin, Gloin, Nori, Dori, Ori, Bombur." She paused and composed herself before facing the wizard and the two that were closest to him. "Gandalf, Bilbo, and Thorin. Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin's hands hit the table as he prepared to stand and question her. But before he could react, the dwarf next to him stood.

"Lass why don't you get off the table now and join the rest of us, eh?" He smiled at her and extended his hand.

Bofur; she was helpless against him. After all, he had been her favorite character in The Hobbit. Now here he was; real and standing right in front of her. She trembled lightly as she placed her hand in his.

The dwarf was not cold, but was not necessarily warm either. Though the moment her fingertips came in contact with him, a heat like no other spread throughout her entire body. Her face and ears reddened at the feeling. Her heart beat harder, faster, louder than she ever could have thought possible. She all but melted into him as he swiftly gripped her arms and lifted her off of the table, placing her gently onto the ground.

Thorin relaxed into his chair as he raised an eyebrow at the two. Though she was already planted onto the floor, Bofur had not let his grip on her go. He gazed at her, and she shied away, both of them smiling, blissfully forgetting the fact that they weren't alone.

"Very well. We will do it your way. Give them a contract." He spoke suddenly and startled most of them.

Christianna jumped away from Bofur, the red in her face deepening. And was thankful when they were all distracted as Balin handed her and Bilbo a heavily folded up piece of parchment.

"It's just the usual summary out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth." He nodded to her.

Bilbo began to read the contract aloud but she tuned him out, drifting into her mind, an argument with herself began:

This cannot be real. In middle earth, me? No. I must be dreaming.

Then why are you hesitating? If it is a dream it does not matter. You can die and yet still be alive.

But what if it is real? What then?

Then you are going on an adventure. You bury yourself in your room, in front of your computer or in your bed, forever longing for something to rip you away from your misery. Well here you are. In this world that has forever captivated you. These people, these dwarves which you loved more than yourself when they were not but characters to you; they are here now and you can go with them.

Exactly. I know this story better than I know myself. Everything that happens I already know. They die. Thorin, Fili, and Kili. It is hard enough to read that, but now I am being asked to witness it.

She gasped as realization filled her, snuffing out the two voices at war.

I do not know this story. Not truly. Not anymore. The moment I came here, it changed. Their fate is unknown now. Everything is. Maybe they can yet be saved.

"Think furnace, with wings." Bofur's cheerful voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Air, air, I need air." Bilbo was stumbling, fighting for breath.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothin' more than a pile of ash." He added, taking a drag of his pipe.

"Bilbo!" She shouted and dashed towards the Hobbit, sliding across the floor and catching him just as he fainted. His head lay in her lap and she placed her hand on his forehead.

Then, it was as if something possessed her, something buried deep inside. A powerful, magical, feeling overwhelmed her. She gently dragged a hand down his face, whispering in elvish just like Gandalf with his spell moments before. "Echuio."

Without any sound of pain, or struggle for breath, Bilbo opened his eyes. She supported him as he sat up. Looking around, he immediately became confused by the unsettling looks upon the dwarves faces.

He shook his head as he stood. "I need a moment, thank you." With that he scurried down the hallway. The sound of a door closing came not a moment later.

"Gandalf." Thorin's voice was but a low grumble. "Who is she?"

"A friend." Gandalf said reassuringly. "That is all I will say, for it is not my place."

"Lass?" Bofur spoke, cautiously stepping towards her, "You alright?"

She was wide-eyed staring at her hands as if she had just committed a crime. "I do not know how to fight." She finally said to no one in particular. "Not with sword, bow, axe, or hammer."

Kili shot out of his chair. "I can teach you!"

Heads whipped in the direction of the young dwarrow.

Dwalin scoffed and crossed his arms. "To shoot a bow lad. Leave the rest to me."

"Nor am I properly dressed for such an endeavor." She shifted, grabbing a hold of the book and contract which she had dropped.

"That is already taken care of." Gandalf chimed in. "A bag by the front door. I have brought it for you."

She glared at the wizard who just smiled happily in return. She wanted answers, but knew that he would not give them. She sighed, signaling her defeat, before getting to her feet. "A quill if you would, please."

He nodded his approval. "There she is, now for the other. If you would excuse me." He bowed slightly before passing her, gliding in the same direction as Bilbo.

"Here Miss Christina." Ori spoke shyly holding a quill out in front of him.

She had to fight the urge to wrap him in her arms, he was a quiet and gentle being after all. "Christianna, Ori. Thank you." She beamed, taking the writing tool from him and signing her contract.

"Christianna? Lass that is a beautiful name." Balin stepped forward and she handed the parchment to him. "Though you are lucky if these lads remember their pants in the morn'. They will surely not be able to remember that."

Groans and protests followed as the others began to argue amongst themselves. Food went flying, as did a few words she figured were in Khuzdul. Balin winked at her, a smirk firmly planted on his face. This caused her to laugh so hard that tears began to form in her eyes. It didn't take long for the others to calm down due to the unfamiliar sound.

She struggled to catch her breath. "Chrissy, my friends call me Chrissy."

"What's a Chrissy?" Bofur asked.

"Oh, it's short for Christianna. It's a nickname."

"What's a nickname?" Kili shouted from the back of the room.

She looked around and they all had the same look of confusion on their face. She tilted her head to the side and thought for a moment. "A nickname is used instead of a person's real name. Normally it either shortens the name, is a joke, or is something based off of their personality."

Ori stepped forward. "It's made up?"

"More or less." She smiled at them. "I for one, love nicknames. Seeing someone's creativity, or what reminds them of you."

Bofur leaned into her and whispered. "Aye lass, can I give you a nickname?"

He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face. She shrunk beneath his gaze. "I don't see why not?" She squeaked.

He chuckled. "I'll be right on it."

-/-

It proved no trouble for Christianna to find the bag that Gandalf had been referring to. Made of leather that was similar in color to her hair, with an intricate design woven into the strap, and a silver clasp. Stacked on top of it were weapons. A beautifully crafted longbow and its matching quiver, stocked full of arrows. Also, a set of twin swords no less exquisite than the bow.

Elven-made. She shook the thought from her head as she picked up the items, before making her way around Bag End, towards a room that Bilbo said she could use. It was a bedroom; with a Hobbit-size bed and a wardrobe inside. In one corner there was stacks of books, boxes, and other things. She let the door shut behind her and made for the bed, sitting the bag down; hesitantly unclasping it and flipping it open. Only a few items lay within, but each one brought new questions to her mind.

First, a set of clothes. A coat-like dress made of gray suede. It had an open, continuous rolled collar lined with silver lace. The bodice tapered down past the waistline in both the front and back. The skirt made of four different panels that parted at the sides, front, and back. The length a few inches shy of her ankles. The underskirt a lighter gray color, made of silk that extended past the over-skirt. A purplish-gray silk sash thread in a zig-zag pattern down the front; attaching to a large, ornate, silver belt buckle. The excess then trailed down the front of the dress. A simpler, much thicker sash on the back meant to pull in the size. Two-part constructed sleeves. The outer part was petal shaped starting at the elbows and cascaded loosely beyond her fingertips. The inner layer made of silk matching the skirt, spiraling around down to her wrists. Black leggings beneath, and boots matching the dress laced up her calves.

She glanced down at herself. "These were definitely made by elves. I look like Lady Arwen." She whined. "Why do they fit me perfectly?"

Next she pulled out a few quills and some ink. Then, she noticed a book. It was bound in a dull, red leather, but other than that the cover was plain. This was not a book to be read. She let it fall open in her hands and as she figured, the page was blank. She skimmed through it and to her surprise, no more than a dozen pages at the front, were covered. Doodles and drawings, words and symbols. She recognized them immediately as Elvish.

She slammed the book shut and stuffed it back in the bag, quickly followed by the ink and quills. She heaved a heavy sigh, and opted to place her own novel with everything else.

There were other odds and ends; such as a brush and soap. Basic necessities that she would be thankful to have.

Deciding it would do no good to sulk, she left the room. At first with no destination, but it only took a moment for the rowdiness of the dwarves to reach her ears. A smile appeared as she followed the noise, stumbling upon most of them piled in a living room.

A fireplace was the main focus, with a pair of chairs on either of it's sides. Across from it was a table and bench. There were other chairs randomly scattered, and a couple of windows. Trinkets, pictures, maps, and plants left almost no space untouched. Candles were spread out as it was dark now, and smoke from their pipes filled the air. Thorin stepped into the room and the rest of them became quiet. She stopped mid-step and her eyes went wide, realizing what was next. She turned to walk away but someone grabbed her wrist, and she knew who it was before looking at them.

Bofur.

Her breath caught in her chest as she met his eyes. A pleading look on his face as he let his hand slip so that he could hold hers. This sent shivers up her spine, but she didn't pull away. His face lit up and he nodded, motioning for her to follow.

Like she had a choice.

The humming began as he tugged her across the room, never dropping his gaze from her. He lead her to a chair and sat on the arm of it, patting on the seat for her. She obliged, and Thorin began to sing.

"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"

She tensed up, gripping her dress in her hands so tight her knuckles began to lose color.

"The pines were roaring, on the height

The winds were moaning, in the night"

She bit her lip as soon as the voice of the dwarf next to her rang in her ears. The color rushed to her face and she covered it with her hands in embarrassment as they finished their song. Too busy keeping herself in check to pay any more attention to it.

*Echuio (Elvish, Sindarin): literal translation is awake, or awaken