So... This has basically been written because I should be revising for exams, but do not want to. Enjoy!

It was a Tuesday morning. I always loved Tuesdays. Especially the first Tuesday of each month; that was when I was allowed to cross to the Hill and visit my cousin Bilbo. I did not get to see him much, which was a shame. Bilbo waited for me at his gate, pipe in hand, his green eyes shining to match the round door of his Hobbit Hole, his smile lit up his happy little face as he rushed to open the gate for me. Bag End really was a delightful home to visit; it was comfortable and relaxed, the exact opposite of any Took household. There you would find little Hobbit children running and screaming everywhere.

He greeted me at the door with a heart-warming smile plastered to his adorable face and leaned upward to give me a firm hug. I should probably mention now that I am not entirely a Hobbit. My mother, Donnamira had been a Hobbit, but my father (whom no one knew the identity of) was said to be some stranger of the race of Men whom she had met on one of her many adventures.

I returned his embrace, "My dear, Bilbo! I trust you are well,"

"Indeed, indeed, Veyra." The Hobbit replied. "I always am! Yet you look drawn and thin, have you not been eating or have you merely grown again?" He chuckled lightly.

He was right in part, I had grown a tad; I was almost a full head taller than he now. However, I had noticed that I seemed to be thinning, especially around the waist, a place where Hobbits are particularly round regardless of gender.

"I am quite well," I assured him gently, "I shall be a giant in no time at this rate though!" I joked. The Hobbit bursting into dignified laughter.

"Come in," He beckoned, "I'll put our supper on soon." He promised. Bilbo was an excellent cook and so I was positively ecstatic at the prospect of a meal cooked by him.

I did as bid and entered the round, green door; admiring the new paintwork that had not been here upon my last visit. He led me through the tubular hallway into his spotless kitchen, ordering me to sit down as he made tea. He told me of a rather odd run-in he had experienced this morning with a wizard (Bilbo had called him Gandalf, and I thought I recognised the name) who had spoken to Bilbo of an adventure, asking if the Hobbit had wanted to join him. Of course Bilbo had refused. Baggins' did not partake in adventures, unlike the Tooks with whom I had grown up, and the sinister way Bilbo told me that Gandalf had hinted this adventure suggested that barely a Took would want any part of it.

All in all it was a charming afternoon and come early evening I was even allowed to help with the preparations for our meal. We were to have a fish supper, complete with potatoes and mixed vegetables. The whole thing smelled delicious, with Bilbo adding unknown herbs to the dish.

Unexpectedly there was a knock at the door.

"Veyra, would you mind plating this up whilst I see to the door," Bilbo asked, polite as ever.

I nodded my head and shooed him away with a small chuckle. I dished up the food, refraining from sneaking a taste and brought the two plates to the table. In the dining room I sat myself down and waited for my cousin's return. Instead of Bilbo, however, I was faced with a short, white wire-haired gentleman whom looked at least as shocked as I to find the room unoccupied.

Bilbo flew back into the room. "Veyra, this is Balin; a Dwarf. Balin, this is Veyra; my cousin."

"Nice to meet you," I offered, bowing my head respectfully.

He returned my head-bowing with a sweeping bow that nearly had his nose sweeping the floor. "At your service," He remarked. I thanked him, even though I had no clue as to what service I would require him for.

I raised my befuddled gaze to Bilbo, "I did not know you were planning on having company, cousin, you should have said. I would not wish to trouble you further if you have guests."

The Hobbit blanched, "No, no, not at all. You are no trouble!" He blurted. "What I mean to say is: I had not planned for other visitors," He remembered Balin's presence, "Not that you are unwelcome."

The Dwarf shook his head, showing no offence had been taken, "Have you anything to eat?" He asked without a please, nor thank you – something that I was certain would be annoying to Bilbo, who prided himself upon his manners.

Ever the gallant host, though, Bilbo offered his own supper, looking somewhat forlorn as the Dwarf tucked in.

"You can share mine," I told him, to which he gratefully accepted, pulling up a seat beside me.

He had no sooner sat down than the door went once more. The Hobbit scurried away, muttering beneath his breath words that I could not quite work out. I saw the reason for his irritation as in walked another Dwarf, Dwalin, the brother of the first by the looks of it. They took no notice of me – not that I minded – they were too engrossed in their exchange of greetings that strangely involved head-butting one another. I would rather stick to a bow or handshake if it were up to me. Bilbo was fuming, I could tell by his little speech that none but I were bothering to listen to.

A pounding came once more from the door. "I'll get it," I said, patting my dear cousin on the arm as I left him to deal with his Dwarf problem.

I swung open the door, expecting even more old Dwarves, fully willing to turn them away. I had not my cousin's patience for uninvited guests. I was, however, shocked to find not only one, but two Dwarves, though these were of an entirely different sort. One stood tall and fair, his moustache braided at each side, which I happened to think suited him, although I did think it would look ridiculous if he had not looked so dashing. The other was taller, exceptionally tall for a Dwarf; he had smouldering chocolate eyes and a stunningly lazy smile, his hair hung about his shoulders and his stubble looked rough, yet soft.

"Fili," Announced the first.

"Kili," The second informed me.

"At your service," They chimed together, each smirking at me, gifting me a low bow in unison.

I regretted not wearing a dress, Hobbits were privileged and did not have to wear gowns at all times, but it would have been better to have been in something that made me look more feminine than black leggings, a long white shirt and a corset panel type belt, teamed with knee-high leather boots. I had not even bothered to comb my golden hair that littered my shoulders, spilling onto my back.

"Veyra, at yours," I told them, recovering my wits and resolving not to dwell on my inappropriate outfit.

"Are we late?" Fili enquired, obviously wondering why I kept them on the doorstep.

I blushed, "I'm sorry, late for what?"

"Has it been cancelled?" Kili asked, seeming disappointed, evidently he had been looking forward to whatever it was.

"The meeting," Fili expanded.

I had no idea what he was talking about. "I- er- nothing has been cancelled, but I-"

I got no further, Fili had pushed Kili inside. "That's a relief!" Kili beamed, throwing a wink my way. What just happened? This was not my house in which to admit people and yet here were these two Dwarves barging in as though I had invited them. They ambled through the hall. I followed, mouthing an apology to Bilbo as the newcomers bowed to him.

Fili turned to me, his arms laden with sheathed weapons. "Careful with these; I just had them sharpened."

I stared blankly at him, not taking them from his outstretched arms. "Does it look as though I could possibly be a maid?" I snapped incredulously, pushing past him into the already crowded dining area. I swear I could hear Kili snickering as I passed him, but I decided to ignore it. I had a feeling I would be ignoring a lot of things this evening.

Kili proceeded to scrape the dirt from his boots on one of Bilbo's old glory boxes, it had belonged to his mother at some point. I smirked, that ugly box was one of Bilbo's favourites, though he never used it for anything. I heard my cousin's complaints as I settled myself in a seat, making sure that I would not have to leave it again, the others could stand for all I cared. Moments later, even more Dwarves tumbled in, I could not keep up with all the names hurled at me, nor was I expected to. Few took any notice of me. The latest batch of Dwarves were accompanied by a ginormous man with a tangled steel beard to match his matted hair and silvery robes, he relied heavily of a crooked wooden staff that had certainly seen better days, I took him to be Gandalf the Grey.

The Dwarves squeezed and squashed themselves into tiny chairs around every inch of the table and I found myself wedged in between the two youngest looking Dwarves. Not that I minded that at all; they were pleasant company – laughing and joking, bringing me drinks without me having to ask – they were even trying to be polite for Bilbo's sake.

"So, Veyra." Fili began, "What are you to master Baggins?" He sneaked a look to his brother who wore a rather delicate and tense expression, as though he were worried about my answer and hoping a certain way or another. The appearance did not suit his roguish façade.

I smiled warmly, "I'm his cousin," I told them, to a glimmer of relief from Kili, "mother's side."

"So you're a Took!" Boomed Gandalf, who I was not aware would be listening to my prattling on.

I blushed and gave an assenting bow of the head, "That I am, sir, Veyra Took." I think I may have been too formal, I could tell Fili was withholding a snigger and Kili had to disguise (badly) his laughter with a coughing fit.

Gandalf paid them no mind, "How marvellous! You would no doubt be interested in our adventure, daughter of Donnamira!"

I shrugged warily, all eyes were on me now and I did not like the attention one bit; it was how I would imagine a snake in a zoo would feel roaming it's vivarium with hundreds of eyes watching it's every move. "It depends on the adventure," I dodged.

The one I remembered was named Gloin protested. "She cannot come with us, she barely looks of age! What is she? Twelve?" He rumbled. "Far too young?"

The look on my face must have been terribly indignant. "I assure you, Dwarf,-" I made my voice as cold as I were capable, "- I am old enough to make decisions of my own as to whether I would be capable of accompanying you on quests, thank you very much!" I argued, probably sounding every bit a child.

Again Kili's face grew concerned. "Pardon me, but how old are you then?" He questioned, his tone guarded. "If you don't mind my asking." At least he had the manners to ask and not simply assume.

I shrugged. "Twenty," I answered. It was not big deal. In the race of Men you came of age at eighteen and seeing as I was the only half-Man-half-Hobbit I had come across or heard of I had no inclination as to when my exact species became adults, no idea how long I might live for.

"But even Hobbits do not come of age until they are thirty-three!" Bofur cried, "You cannot join us, child!"

I resisted the urge to argue, it would only have reinforced his point; instead, I glanced to Gandalf for back up, pretending I did not catch the disappointment on Kili's face. Not that I was curious as to why he would be disappointed. Okay, so I might have been. A lot.

Gandalf did indeed come to my aid, "Ah, my dear Bofur, that is most true," he paused, "but Veyra is more than a Hobbit, in her veins runs the blood of Men and so it is that this young woman is most definitely of age." The wizard wheezed a light laugh at the stunned silence of the group; evidently they had all expected me to be a pure Hobbit, even though I was far too tall for one of my age.

"Still, she cannot join us." Spoke a deep, regal voice, dripping with grandeur, sneaking in from the Kitchen doorway. Bilbo had quietly admitted him whilst everyone was speaking all at once.

I was getting tired of being told what I could and could not do by people who did not know me in the slightest. "And why ever not?" I challenged. You could feel the air push past as the Dwarves did a collective gasp of suspense.

The Dwarf stood high, his dark hair and beard streaked with grey and yet there was a youthful hunger inside his eyes, such that made it difficult to look at anything else.

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "You know nothing of the world. It would be the greatest surprise to me and all others if you even possessed a mere inkling of what an Orc is!"

"I know well enough the damage Orcs can do." I answered quietly, dangerously.

"What would bring a Shireling into such knowledge?" He sneered.

I stood tall, almost upsetting Fili in his seat beside me. "I have more reason to detest those creatures than most, though far less than some." I muttered vaguely before standing to leave. This brought back memories that I absolutely did not wish to revisit. I would have walked back to my home in Bywater, just outside Hobbiton, if Bilbo had not persuaded me to stay the night due to the late hour.

I decided I would leave the men to do as they wished, filling in Bilbo on what they had planned, I would not intrude upon their company nor their adventures if I was not wanted. The newcomer was wrong, very wrong, I knew very well what Orcs were and destruction they caused. My mother had been destroyed no more than a year ago by an Orc pack just outside of Bree. The people who found her remains only found pieces and her diary; that is the only way they were able to find out who the mangled remnants of a body once was. That is why I lived with the Old Took now; he would no longer allow to go on adventures, he feared I would meet the same end as my mother – not that I had ever been on a real adventure, the furthest I had ever ventured was The Marish and that was still contained within the Shire. I tried not to dwell on my suspicion that Bilbo would be asked to leave his beloved Shire against his will, whereas I would be left behind wanting nothing more than to explore the world beyond. Life, it seems, is greatly unfair.

Sighing I sank into one of my cousin's armchairs and enjoyed a tankard of ale, not very feminine, but I needed a drink right now. Things were not going at all my way. Was a quiet evening with my cousin so much to ask for? Now twelve Dwarves had ruined it! I allowed my eyes to close, this was definitely not my day. Not my day at all.

I sensed, rather than saw, another enter the room; judging by the weighted sound his boots made across the thick carpet I gathered that it would not be my cousin, but a Dwarf – probably not one of the more rotund ones, one of the younger. If I had been in a better mood, I would have done the polite thing and opened my eyes or acknowledge him in some way, but I had not the patience to do such a thing, to interact with one of those diminutive Dwarves.

The sofa next to me wheezed as a form lowered his weight upon it. Neither of us spoke a word to the other as my eyes remained shut. His breathing came to my ears; a slow and steady rhythm, unbroken by noises from the kitchen that floated in on clouds of pipe-smoke. The scent of which rolled off him to settle like a blanket about me.

Curiosity finally triumphed over my stubbornness. Slowly I drew back my eyelids to reveal unto myself just who it was that had joined me. It did not surprise me when my gaze fell upon none other than the youngest Dwarf.

"So you are willing to be sociable at last!" He sniggered, giving my arm a light tap in jest.

I frowned. "My apologies," I mumbled, "I am out of sorts this evening, do forgive me." It was not like me to ask forgiveness, but on this occasion I was far too tired and grumpy to bother with an argument.

The Dwarf smiled, albeit somewhat sadly. "You need not apologise to me; I have come to apologise to you on Thorin's behalf." So that was the regal Dwarf's name. I must have still worn a bewildered expression. "Master Baggins informed us of your mother." He said by way of explanation.

"It matters not," I waved a hand airily. "My only ask is that he restrains from treating me as a child, it is long since anyone has done that and I am too unused to it."

Kili seemed to understand, "I will ensure they treat you as you deserve," He drawled a sneer tugging up the corner of his lips. "You did not look a child to me," He admitted.

I blushed – well who would not? I had no inkling of how to respond to that. What he even meant by it, I would never know. "So how old are you then?" I enquired. It seemed a good idea to know how much younger than the youngest Dwarf I was.

"I'm seventy-seven." He replied after a while.

I was not expecting that; to see him you would think he were no more than thirty years old at the most, but to be in his seventies he looked incredible. Not that I should notice that. Either Dwarves live even longer than Hobbits do (120 years on average) or he had a miraculous wrinkle treatment.

"Wow," I breathed. "Not to be impertinent, but how do you possibly look do young? It's really not fair!" I joked. Though it was not fair at all, he barely looked but a few years older than me, I expect I will be a bag of creased skin by the time I reach his age.

The Dwarf laughed, "I suppose we Dwarves have a habit of living a fair bit longer than both Men and Hobbits." He paused. "Shame really." Once more a cloud of something akin to pain transformed his features, sharpening the colour of his eyes and drawing close his brows.

"How so?"

His cheeks glowed a faint pink but did not answer. At that moment Fili came peeping his head into the room. His moustache braids swinging jovially.

"Has it been agreed?" He questioned, striding to stand by his kin. Has what been agreed? I sent him a puzzled glance, then turned to a reddening Kili.

He cleared his throat, "I have yet to mention it, brother."

I threw an accusatory glare at Kili; it felt like he had been trying to lull me into a sense of trusting him. I wonder what he was sent to persuade me to do.

"It is nothing terrible, I promise," He raised his hands defensively, "Thorin, the leader of our Company, has requested that you join our quest. Gandalf thought it would do you some good and I imagine we, all of us, would be glad of your presence." He bumbled.

I considered this. I had not even the faintest idea what this journey would entail. "What are we, I mean you, setting out to do, may I ask?" It seemed to me only too sensible to know what I would be agreeing to before I answered.

Kili faltered, his brother taking over. Both donned identical expressions woven from seriousness and laced with foreboding. "We will make to reclaim the home of our fathers; Erebor. We seek to overthrow the Dragon Smaug so that Thorin can, as he should have, become King Under the Mountain. It will be dangerous, extremely so, but have no fear; you shall be rewarded with your equal share of the gold upon our taking it back."

A dragon. That is what we are to face. Even with the fourteen, fifteen if I agree, of them I highly doubted the mission's success and yet the whole thing called to some Tookish part of me that was in desperate need of adventure. I loved the Shire, but I had never gone beyond what I know, like my mother had. I needed to get away, to see more of the world than I had ever dreamed.

"You do not have to accompany us if you are afraid." Fili supplied.

"Though you must know that we would let no harm come to you if we can help it," Kili added, trying to assure me, but I knew that against a dragon I would have to be of use somehow; they cannot protect me and fight a dragon at the same time.

They wanted an answer and soon; I could tell by the way Kili's leg bounced with anticipation. Fili, too, appeared on edge – his right eye was twitching, giving him an extremely impatient air.

There was only one response I could give. "So, when do we set out?" I asked with a grin.

Kili's face broke out into the most glorious smile I had ever seen, the sun held nothing in comparison to the brightness of this single quirk of his mouth. "Really? You'll come?"

"Of course," I told him, honestly I could not have declined had I desired to; opportunities for adventure are few and far between.

Fili too grinned widely. "We leave at dawn," He informed me.

That was far sooner than I had expected. "Then, I had better return home and pack." I mused, happily daydreaming about the thrills of this adventure.

"There will be no need for that, young one," Gandalf chuckled heartily from the hall doorway. "I took the liberty of collecting a pack from Gerontius on my way here, I hope you do not mind." So he had been to see the Old Took. I remembered that Gandalf was a dear friend of the Old Took, having accompanied him on many a trek, even presenting the Hobbit with diamond studs that would only unclasp once ordered to do so.

"You knew I would come." I had meant it to be an interrogative, however, as it so happened, upon saying it aloud it transformed into a declarative statement. He had known, and if he had known that, as he had had knowledge of my blood, then how much more of my life or my future could this wizard possibly be aware of? I could not decide whether this made me cautious of him or trusting of him. In resolve, I thought it best to trust any friend of my family, for they were few.

The wizard nodded as though it had been obvious that I would join up without much encouragement – he clearly knew me better than he had previously portrayed, or maybe he knew my mother well and presumed I would be very much as she had been. I hoped he was right. It would be a great honour to fill her shadow.

"Will Bilbo come too?" It would be nice to have my cousin by my side, a little bit of home.

Gandalf studied me carefully, his mouth tugging upward at the corners. "He is quite… undecided at this present moment and not predisposed to give us an affirmative as yet." The wizard hedged.

"He fainted when we mentioned dragon fire." Fili supplied.

I supressed a grimace, I had no doubt that the thought would not sit too well in my cousin's mind – he had been brought up with Baggins'; they were not designed to think lightly of adventures, let alone dragons, they would not even cross the Brandywine River by boat always opting for the Bridge if they took the trouble to venture across at all. It is likely that he would decline. Pity, an expedition would do him a world of good; he had become rather rounded and complacent as of late. Not that such a thing were uncommon among Hobbits, but I had a fear that being surrounded by contented Hobbits had dulled his sense of fun. When he was younger he would take a very young version of myself on walks to find Elves in the nearby woods, telling me stories and how he would love to encounter the Fair Folk. Now the only stories he told were the gossip he had picked up from The Green Dragon with his ale addled friends.

"I hope he wakes in a better mind," I muttered to no one in particular.

"As do I, Veyra. He would learn more of himself than ever if he sees the sense to join us. I should warn you to note that neither of you shall return the same as you are now," I had already begun to think that, even hope it, "if you return at all." He finished darkly.

I shivered, I had expected that as well, and yet having it spoken aloud made the thought all the more real. "I understand," I whispered, "I would not hold you to any promise of return." It dawned upon me that I might never see the Shire again, but that did not make me as saddened as I previously thought it would. Do not mistake me, I prayed to the Valar for a safe homecoming, but I could happily live elsewhere.

The youngest Dwarf's face contorted. "If Gandalf cannot promise your safety, I will."

I made to thank him and tell him it would be unnecessary, he needed to look after himself first, but Gandalf cut me off. "There is no need for that, master Kili, Veyra is a keen bow handler and I'd wager her mother taught her the ways of the blade also."

"You knew her well?" I queried, for she had indeed taught me both sword and bow from an early age, though I had not used either since her passing.

The wizard elucidated: "Indeed, long have I been acquainted with the Tooks and she was a particularly fond adventurer especially in her youth." He smiled fondly in remembrance, "A fine woman and one of the bravest I have ever met. I bet you could give her a run for her money though." He joked, nudging my shoulder conspiratorially."

This cheered me, I only hoped I could live up to her reputation. I nodded in thanks. "I had better make sure I live up to such expectations then," I giggled.

The other Dwarves joined us, gently laying an unconscious Bilbo into the armchair across from me, the rest of them slotting themselves into small spaces on the sofa or simply plopping down onto the floor. The youngest brothers ended up perching on either arm of my seat so as to allow Dwalin and Bailn, Bifur and Bofur to take the sofa they had occupied. It was astonishing to see how neatly all twelve Dwarves and Gandalf managed to fit inside my cousin's living room, not that it was a tiny room – by Hobbit standards, it was huge – but it certainly did not seem as though it should be room enough for such an infestation of Dwarves.

They were a merry gathering once you were accustomed to their swearing and random bursts of violent belching. The loudest of which came from Oin, I joined in with their appreciative howling and applause. None seemed perturbed by my lacking in femininity, I was by no means very masculine in most ways; however, my preference for ale over wine, and trousers over dresses had warranted much gossip in Hobbiton and the surrounding areas. Not that gossip had ever been a new thing for me, being the only half-Halfling in the Shire had given me both fame and infamy beyond measure. The curious Shire-folk never really knew just what to think of me.

After much discussion of dragons and gold, the Dwarves quietened down, each musing the mission ahead. Slowly they struck up a tune, dark and haunting. First to start a verse was Thorin, his majesty only amplified by the regal gravel of his baritone. Next to join him was Kili; he had the loveliest vocals I had ever heard, it was like singing velvet rolling about the room, undulating alongside Thorin's. Soon all Dwarves were singing. The effect was hypnotic. Soon the entire Hobbit hole hummed with the sound of Dwarfish song, slow and rumbling.

It swirled about my head, mingling with the heady scent of pipe-smoke which came in coloured rings from the corner in which Gandalf perched. Vaguely I was aware that Bilbo had risen once more, but I could not find voice to soothe his worry nor focus to watch his little face as he once more considered the task at hand. Before the song had ended I was drifting into lost places filled with flameless fires and shining darkness. The ancient voices of every Dwarf that ever lived filled my mind, choking on a cloudless smoke of my own imagination; I dreamed of the dangers that awaited us with no fear at all.

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