Ariana lifted her lantern above her head – the night was darker than most, and she was late for returning home. This did not concern her as much as one might expect, as Hobbit families oft make more than they can eat for dinner, and the Shire is a safe haven for all Hobbitkind. As such, Ariana hummed to herself as she walked home, her furry feet treading lightly on the pathways.

While the air was not chilly, for it was the last week of summer, Ariana was alone outside. The rest of her kin would be inside, chomping on their roasted dinners or puffing on their finest pipeweed.

At least, she thought she was alone.

"Excuse me, miss," came a gruff voice from behind her.

Ariana squeaked in alarm and dropped her book. Though the Shire is safe (as mentioned) and the speaker polite, she could not help but become fearful. Slowly, she turned around to face them.

There, just inside the warm reach of her candlelight, stood a… well, she supposed it was a Dwarf – he, assuming he was a he, was taller than any Hobbit she had met, and was dressed in clothing too regal for her kin's rustic taste. He watched her with a steely gaze.

She fumbled for words. "Oh my," Ariana said faintly. "You startled me." One of his eyebrows raised, as if to say, I had no idea, as he glanced at her fallen book. Ariana's face heated with a blush, which she tried to hide as she crouched to pick it up.

Standing back up, she avoided his eyes, but her cheeks felt significantly cooler. She gave a small curtsey – his bearing gave him an air of authority. "How may I help you?" she asked, her voice stronger.

"I seem to be lost," he admitted reluctantly. "I have been wandering this damned town for longer than I care, and still I cannot find where I am meant to be."

Ariana's pride flared. "Pardon me, sir, but this 'damned town' happens to be my home, and if you are visiting here, you would do well to respect it." She lifted her chin a little in an attempt to look down on him, but being only three and a bit feet tall, it didn't work as well as she would have liked.

Still, he seemed humbled by her outburst. "I apologise. I have been travelling for several days without food, and being someplace where the air is filled with the smell is cooking, I grow impatient."

She almost smiled – perhaps he wasn't as different as he looked. "Where are you looking to go?" she asked. "Oh!" She gave a small squeak. "I have forgotten my manners – Ariana Hayward." Ariana dropped into another curtsey, deeper this time.

The Dwarf inclined his head. "Thorin Oakenshield," he replied. As Ariana righted her posture, their gaze met properly for the first time, his steel blue eyes connecting with her own orbs of honey brown. A shiver ran down her back. "I am looking for the home of Mister Baggins, if you know of it."

Smiling, she replied, "In a town like Hobbiton, everyone knows where everyone lives. If it pleases you, I can take you in that direction – I live on the other end of the road to him."

Thorin nodded. "Thank you, Miss Hayward."

"Please, call me Ariana."

Together, by the light of Ariana's lantern, they began walking. For a while, they were quiet, not knowing what to say.

Ariana broke the silence. "What business do you have with Mister Bilbo?"

"I have a proposal for him to join me on a quest," he said carefully.

After looking at him for a moment, confused, the young Hobbit began to giggle, stopping in her tracks. Thorin, too, stopped, and turned to look at her, clearly unamused.

Ariana strove to compose herself. "I'm sorry, Mister Thorin. But the idea of Mister Bilbo Baggins – of all people! – going on a quest is preposterous." She fought back more giggles. "Our people are of a simple life, we do not crave adventure nor do we wish for it in wistful dreams."

Thorin merely gave a quiet grunt.

"Perhaps, upon meeting Mister Bilbo, you will be convinced," said Ariana, walking again. Thorin followed her. Curiosity overwhelmed her, however. "What is your quest, anyhow?"

"I plan to visit my family members to the East." The sentence seemed very rehearsed.

"Then why would you require the presence of Mister Bilbo?"

Thorin didn't reply. Inwardly, Ariana shrugged. Though curious, it was not her place to pry.

"I wish to reclaim my homeland."

The words had been spoken so quietly, Ariana wasn't sure she'd heard them, but when she looked at Thorin, he was looking away from her, as if surprised, and perhaps somewhat angered, that he had spoken aloud.

"Your homeland?"

Closing his eyes and giving a sigh, Thorin seemed to resign himself to her curiosity. "Yes. After sixty years, I wish to return to Erebor."

Ariana's eyes widened. "The Lonely Mountain? Wherein the Dragon Smaug slumbers? You cannot be serious!"

Thorin stared at her, confused. Once again, the pair had stopped in their tracks. "You know the stories of Erebor?"

Ariana blushed, wishing she'd never asked him his business. Twisting a lock of curly brown hair around one of her fingers, she rambled. "Yes, well. I study under Hamilcar Lightfoot, he teaches me what he can, though he is getting on in years."

"And what does he teach you?" Thorin's voice seemed to have gotten darker.

"History, geography, occasionally recipes," she answered, her voice firmer than her heart (which was bouncing wildly in her chest). "While he taught me mostly of Hobbit lore, I sought to learn of other cultures. Smaug's destruction of Dale and claiming of the Lonely Mountain is hardly a small event."

Thorin drew away from her. Looking away, the moon caught his face in profile, and Ariana's heart, which had calmed down some, began to hammer away once more.

"I'm sorry if I have offended you," she said quietly, looking at her feet. After a moment, she added, "Prince Thorin."

Thorin once more set his eyes on the Hobbit maiden. "I would assume that you taught yourself of Durin's Line." Ariana nodded. The Dwarven Prince stepped closer to her. Gently, he placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted it up. Their eyes met again, and a spark seemed to fly between them. "Then you would know that I am the only one who can reclaim Erebor, so yes. I am serious."

Ariana's face fell slightly. "Surely you will die? You are putting yourself, and so many others, in danger."

"Then, at least, I had the pleasure of meeting you first," he said, voice low.

Blushing, Ariana withdrew from their moment of intimacy. Thorin let his hand drop, watching as the Hobbit brushed her free hand on her skirt. "Come," she said. "We're nearly at Bagshot Row."

They walked almost all the way in silence, until Ariana stopped short. She pointed at the Hobbit-home beside her. "This is where we must part ways." Pointing again, she added, "Mister Bilbo's is in that direction – it's the one beneath the tree, hard to miss."

After looking where she had pointed, and noting the faint glow of a moon rune, Thorin turned to look at her again. "Perhaps our paths will meet again someday."

"Perhaps."

But Ariana did not look so sure. Hoping to give her some form of promise, Thorin stood close to her, closer than they had even before. He gently took the lantern and book away from her grip, setting them aside on the mailbox by the gate. Ariana gazed up at him, a faint blush across her cheeks.

"I hope that our paths will meet," Thorin said, not quite a whisper. "For I look forward to seeing your face again." He brushed his thumb against her cheek, pleased when Ariana leaned into it. "Though I wish our meeting had been longer, I am glad it happened." Leaning in, he said quieter, "I also look forward to doing this again."

"Doing wha-"

Thorin cut Ariana's question short by pressing his lips to hers, long enough to be meaningful, but short enough to ensure he didn't take it too far. Stepping away, he smiled at her for the first time that night. "Farewell, Lady Ariana," he said before turning on his heel and walking towards Bag End.

Dazed, Ariana watched him go. After a moment, she regained enough composure to pick up the lantern and book from the mailbox. Slowly, she walked towards the bright yellow door that marked her home. As she set her hand upon the handle, she looked down the street.

Thorin was looking at her, his expression stony once more. Bag End's door opened, and he turned to face (she assumed) Bilbo.

Ariana opened the door and stepped inside, a smile on her face. "I wish you luck, my Prince," she whispered through the doorway as she closed it.