Authors Note: Hello friends and countrymen, lend me your ears! My name is Líadan (Lee-din fyi) and this is my first Hobbit story. Thanks for reading! I just wanted to say hi and let you know I will be posting once a week, maybe more just depending. I haven't quite finished writing this, but I've got the majority of the story already finished. Also, some (most) of my stories are written to music. I suggest listening to the Hobbit movie soundtracks while reading this one. If I have any individual song recommendations, I'll leave them at the top of the chapter. From now on, my author notes will be found at the end of every chapter. Also, in case you were wondering, this story is LONG. I'm talking novel length, so there will be plenty to enjoy! Happy reading! Cheers- L

Part 1

Chapter 1 A Beginning, Of Sorts

The shop windows were dark and dingy, as if the place had long been abandoned. A wooden sign swung and creaked in the chilly spring breeze and was adorned with a hand-painted tall, pointy blue hat along with odd rune like markings. The strangest thing about this sign was not the unknown writing, or that the hat almost looked like the kind a wandering wizard would wear. No, the most peculiar part was the fact that the sign seemed weather worn, as if it had been through an age worth of gales. The paint was faded, like the sun had sapped away its vibrancy.

That was impossible. Elwen Greenlea had lived in the same town for as long as she could remember and visited every bookstore in the area. She'd never laid eyes on this place before. It was as if it had been built and aged overnight, which was certainly enough to peak her curiosity. But it was the ancient and cracked leather-bound tomes in the dusty shop window that had her reaching for the old brass door handle. Elwen never could resist a good story or the promise of adventure.

Yet she hesitated on the threshold when she heard the door click, finding it unlocked. The small hairs on the back of her neck stood and her skin tingled as if some unknown force was running figurative fingers across her skin.

Lightning streaked across the dark grey sky and thunder boomed so loudly it shook the windows of the little shop. One hell of a storm was coming, and any second the sky was going to open up and drown her. I guess I've got no choice now, she thought, and pushed the door open.

The shop was much larger than it looked from the outside. It was dim, lit by lamps bolted to the walls. The ceilings were high and the walls were painted a dark forest green, though they were barely visible due to all the books. Elwen's jaw dropped as she took it all in. There were mounds upon mounds and stacks upon stacks of books on shelves and tables and even random piles on the floor.

The wind and rain was howling like raging beasts and Elwen found herself wishing she'd worn a jacket. Her ragged, holey jeans and worn sweater weren't much protection from the cold that was settling in.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elwen thought she caught movement. She spun around, but the only things visible in the soft yellow light were books.

"Hello?" she called, inching forward slowly. "The door was unlocked and it's storming out, so I let myself in."

She kept talking more out of nervousness than the expectancy of someone talking back. She heard what sounded like books sliding to the ground somewhere deeper within the shop. Screw the storm, she thought. I'd rather be wet than scared to death. But when she spun around to leave, Elwen found herself face to chest with a very tall someone.

Elwen screamed and the sky screamed with her as more thunder clapped and shook the earth.

She jumped back and eyed the stranger, who turned out to be a man. She crouched slightly and put her weight on her left foot, ready to spring into action. Thank God for martial arts classes. Though, upon inspection, she saw she likely wouldn't need to call upon her skills.

The man Elwen had nearly bumped into was actually a very tall, thin older gentleman. He had a long grey beard that hung down to the middle of his chest, bushy eyebrows, and a long hooked nose.

He didn't look familiar, not exactly, but Elwen had the strangest sensation that, somehow, she knew him. Or had known him at some point. She was fairly certain she'd never seen him before. And yet…

The man's blue eyes twinkled with just a hint of mischief and a friendly smile spread across his face.

"Hello, my dear," he said, his voice a pleasant rumble. Elwen blinked. The man shifted his eyes to the window, then back to her. "Don't tell me you were going out in this tempest?"

Elwen shook her head and finally found her voice. "I…well…I didn't know if I was, um, supposed to be in here so-"

"Nonsense!" interrupted the man. "Follow me, if you please. You look in need of something warm to drink."

Elwen wasn't quite sure why she did, indeed, follow a strange man in-were those robes? Yes, the man was wearing floor length, grey robes. She didn't know why she was following a man in long grey robes to the back of a mysterious bookstore, but she was. Somehow she knew he wouldn't cut her into tiny pieces and use her bits to make a wallet. She knew she could trust him. She just didn't know why.

He led her into a back office area furnished with a large wooden desk, two large armchairs, and matching side tables. A fire crackled in the fireplace, which gave the room a cozy feel and glow. He bid her to sit in the chair closest to the fire and insisted she wrap herself in a thick wool blanket he pulled from the top of his own chair.

"Tea?" he asked, not waiting for her answer before hitting the button on the electric kettle. "I do love these e-lec-tric contraptions! So convenient!"

The way he said the word 'electric,' enunciating every syllable, made it seem as though the concept was foreign to him. How odd, she thought in passing.

"Do you take cream?" he asked.

She shook her head. Soon she was holding a steaming mug in her hand and the old man was settled in a chair with his own cup of tea.

"Are you always so chatty?" he joked and gave her a wink.

She blushed. "I'm sorry, how rude! Thank you for the tea and the blanket! I'm just, er-"

"No need to thank me, gracious!" he chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. "Now, I believe introductions are in order. You may call me Mr. Grey. And what might I call you?"

"I'm Elwen," she said. It was the first thing she was able to say without a stutter. "Elwen Greenlea."

"What a pretty name," Grey remarked. "Do you know what it means?"

Elwen shook her head. "I doubt it means anything special."

Grey looked surprised at this. "Names often have meaning. Your given name, for instance, means Star Maiden."

Elwen's eyes grew wide. She'd always thought someone had just chosen a random name to give a girl with no family and that was the end of it.

"How do you know that?"

Mr. Grey smiled and replied, "Because I speak the language in which your name was born of. The same that is also written on my sign, as I'm sure you noticed. It is an old language, a forgotten one for the most part. I am not surprised that you were unaware."

He sounded almost sad about the fact that the language was nearly forgotten. It was as if he personally knew those who had once spoken it and they had been forgotten as well.

"Tell me, Ms. Greenlea," he said, "what brings you to The Blue Hat?"

Ah, so that was the meaning behind the sign. He'd chosen a rather antiquated way of advertisement.

"I saw the books in the window. I thought I'd been to every bookstore in the area, but I've never seen The Blue Hat before." She smiled at him. "Plus, today is my birthday so I thought maybe I'd treat myself. I love to read."

Mr. Grey was mid-drink when he heard the last of what she said and nearly spit his tea all over himself. After he managed to swallow, he said cheerfully, "Why, happy birthday Ms. Greenlea! And how old are you today?"

"Twenty," she replied a bit shyly, "and please, call me Elwen."

"Ah, yes," he said, lifting his cup back to his lips. "Suppose that means you're ready for all sorts of adventures, I'd wager."

It was true. In a way, Elwen felt a change happening, as if leaving behind her teenage years meant something more than just growing older.

"The only adventures I go on are thanks to the books I read." She spoke with some regret. "But someday I'll go on loads of them! I'm studying Archeology and History. It was the closest to being able to declare my major as 'Adventurer' as I could get."

Elwen worked a crap job at a diner and got aid which enabled her to go to school. She was basically broke all the time and could barely pay her rent, but she managed. It had been that way since she'd completed grade school. But it wouldn't be forever.

"What of your parents?" Grey asked. "How do they feel about adventures?"

"I don't have parents," she replied. "I'm an orphan. I grew up in a children's home. Moved out after I turned eighteen."

When she was younger, she'd hated having to explain her situation. The older she grew, however, less it stung until it was a very small thorn in her palm.

To his credit, Mr. Grey didn't look at her as if he were some sort of pitiful animal. She was grateful for that.

"So you've no family to speak of?" he asked kindly.

"If I do, I don't know who they are. I was found abandoned in a hospital parking lot with the words Elwen Greenlea written in gold paint on the side of a basket. I was about three or so. Very cliché, I know."

Grey raised an eyebrow at this. "Yes, now that I think about it, Greenlea is quite an unusual name, isn't it?"

"I think there might have been more written on the basket, but it rained that night and the paint smeared."

She tried not to be angry about the fact she'd been given up. She didn't even mind so much that she'd grown up in the system. She'd turned out alright. It was the rain that bothered her. They'd left her on a cold, wet night as if she were nothing but a piece of garbage. She was so inconsequential that whoever had left her couldn't be bothered to find a dry spot.

"What would you say if I told you that I was looking for someone to share in an adventure?"

This caught Elwen's attention. Where have I heard that before? she wondered. "I suppose that would depend," she replied carefully. Grey's eyes sparkled.

"I am in need of someone to help in a quest that is going to take place somewhere far away."

"I don't understand," she said.

"I did not expect you to!" Mr. Grey laughed.

Thunder roared and rain pounded the ceiling. Grey's eyes grew serious. When he spoke again his voice took on a mythical quality, almost as if it echoed throughout the room. The shadows cast by the fire danced across the walls like fae around their hills. The atmosphere felt different; the world felt more alive somehow.

Magic, she realized. This is magic. It was as if she were remembering something she had long forgotten. Grey felt like that too, as if she'd lived another life that had been banished from her memory and he'd been a part of it.

"What I am asking is no simple task. You would face great peril and I cannot guarantee your safety. But you were not meant for this world, Elwen Greenlea. I think you know that. I can show you where you truly belong."

Elwen knew she should leave. Every brain cell she possessed was telling her this old coot was crazy and she needed to get the hell out of there. But her body wanted her to stay. Her very bones were crying out. Her feet were longing for the path home. Her heart knew this stranger as Friend.

Your magic awakens, a voice whispered. Come home, Elwen, Star. Come home.

"I need to go."

Elwen bolted for the door, not waiting to find out if the old man would follow. She weaved through the endless shelves, momentarily worried she wouldn't be able to find her way back to the entrance. She envisioned herself lost forever in a maze of books, doomed to become a specter that haunted unsuspecting travelers or some nonsense. The only thing she knew was that the walls were closing in and she could have sworn she heard what sounded like someone chanting.

She halted her mad dash for just a moment and strained to hear the words over the storm that still raged. The words were faint, as if they were crossing a great distance carried by the wind. That was completely impossible as she was inside where there was no wind, but it was there all the same.

Once again she was hit by a strange feeling, a feeling very hard to describe. It wasn't déjà vu; she was still absolutely positive she'd never set foot inside the shop before today. It was almost like an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. The voice, the language.

I've heard this before, she thought with sudden shock. Remembering. That's the word she couldn't quite find. She was remembering.

Elwen Greenlea was remembering something that should be impossible for her to remember. Images flowed through her mind like a stream; a woman with dark hair, fair skin, and sad eyes. A man with long silver hair and eyes almost the same color as the blade of a sword. My eyes, she realized. That man has my eyes.

A clap of thunder pulled her from the river of memory and gave her the ability to move once more. She stopped short, however, due to finding herself standing in front of the very door she had entered not half an hour before. Elwen didn't waste time trying to puzzle out how it was exactly that she'd found the door and not realized it. She simply flung it open and raced head first into the rain.

The old man pulled out a long wooden pipe from inside the many folds of his robes and began to pack it. How interesting a girl young Elwen had turned out to be. A keen mind, he could sense, and an obvious thrill seeker. Yes, she would make a happy addition to the party. Quite an adventure it would be.

He lit his pipe and took a long drag. He exhaled with a sigh and amused himself by blowing ships through smoke rings. He had a strong feeling that Elwen Greenlea (so she was being called) was very much up for the task. The party would disagree with him, of course, just as they would when they found out he'd chosen a Halfling as their burglar. But she would prove her worth, shatter their doubts, and win their hearts, just as Bilbo Baggins would. Of that he had no doubt. The tiniest pebble could often create the most wide spreading ripples. He only needed the tiniest of pebbles to tip the scale in their favor.

She would be back. And soon, he hoped. He wasn't overly fond of this place, despite its delightful electric kettles and toasters. It was far too busy and far too noisy for his liking. He preferred the unspoiled and ancient forests of Fangorn and Lothlorien. He longed to ride the plains of the Riddermark and keep company with the folk of Rivendell. No, he did not prefer this age to his own, not one bit, and was quite eager to return home as soon as possible.

He had made sure to stay somewhat unaware of the events that would take place when Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim what was lost. The Lady had warned him about meddling too far into what has been and what would come to pass. She had given him one task; bring back the girl who was promised and set her on the path. Elwen would take care of the rest simply by becoming who she was meant to be.

And so the old wizened Wizard would not dip his toe too far into time, nor would he alter what was not his to change. He would trust the Lady. He would trust the girl. And may we all be saved.