I'm back! Sorry for the long stretch of silence. Between moving to Mississippi and trying to settle down (without internet access until literally five minutes ago) I didn't have time to write. I still haven't managed to write anything on my WIPs but I wrote this small one shot to keep my muse going. I posted it on my AO3 account - the first thing I've ever posted there - since it's easier to post there with my phone but now that I have my computer back I'll try to work more again. Don't plan for a heck of a lot cuz I'm still trying to focus on finding a job too.

Anyway, hope you enjoy my first Hobbit fanfiction and my first genderbend fic!

Disclaimer: I own nothing

She didn't belong here. She was of the earth, of living breathing things. Erebor was a mountain as solid and unbending as they come. Cold, hard stone pressed beneath her feet instead of the warm soil of her garden. She sighed into the chilly empty hall as she padded along in search of supplies. The company had finally made it to the mountain. Smaug had flown away in anger (she really really hoped he wouldn't take it out on the neighboring Laketown) and the dwarves rejoiced the return of their hoard. Not even a day had passed before they were scrambling through the mounds of gold, however, in search of a stone she knew they would never find. The Arkenstone sat safely in her own belongings. It was wrong to keep such a precious heirloom from them, she knew, but her dwarves weren't acting like her dwarves right now. The creatures she once considered friends, family even, looked at her like she was some sort of threat, became as reserved around her as they had been at the beginning of the quest. They were strangers once more, all because of one stone.

She sighed again, pausing at a random door down one of the few intact corridors and pressed her body against the partially rotted wood. It groaned in protest, but the handle turned reluctantly and she stumbled into the dust-coated room. She blinked and sneezed as tiny particles swarmed around her head from her disruption. Sniffling, she moved farther into the room, careful not to kick up more dust than necessary. It appeared she managed to find herself in an old bedroom. Practically ancient judging by the furniture. It probably hadn't been used since long before Smaug came to the mountain. It was also large and fine enough for royalty. Which, she reminded herself, was a distinct possibility with dwarves.

A set of double doors stood across the room, a thin ray of light seeping into the room from beneath the doors. Tilting her head curiously, she made her way across the room and laid her hand against the lighter wood. It was warm against her palm, making her shiver in the otherwise cold room. Hobbits were not curious by nature, but they also weren't adventurers either. It seemed she was always destined to defy all of her people's instincts. She pushed open the doors cautiously (the quest had taught her that much at least) and marveled at how little resistance she received. The non-rotted doors quickly fled her mind, however, and she sucked in an awed breath at the sight before her. It seemed Smaug had not desolated quite as much as they had thought.

A garden, overgrown by weeds and clover, but a garden nonetheless. To find something like this, something so hobbity in a mountain of thick-headed dwarves, was breathtaking. She stumbled back a step until the back of her legs hit warm stone and she collapsed onto a nearby bench. She had stumbled across this...oasis, right as she was going to give up hope, as though a sign from Yavanna. She could not give up hope just yet. Perhaps things were not as bad as they seemed.