PROLOGUE.

"Please," he yelled, his eyes begging me, "Just jump!"

Fear ran through my body, searing my veins like the touch of hot iron. I couldn't do it- I wouldn't do it- because my brain would not allow me. My fight or flight responses worked against me, and my head screamed that I should run in the opposite direction. But if my feet strayed back I knew it would certainly be the death of me. So I stood there frozen with Gloin's arm around me, unable to will my feet to move.

"We don't have much time little Lizzie," Gloin urged; I could tell he felt anxious to bridge the gap. I swallowed hard and squeezed my eyes shut.

"I-I- you know I'm ridiculously afraid of heights." My teeth were gritted and I could feel bile beginning to rise in the back of my throat. Of all things to drag myself into, this was the worst.

"Lass, you'll jump with me. I ain' got no intentions of lettin' y'die here when you've come s'far," Bofur strained. He pushed his way to the end of the crumbling rock and had me wrap my arms around him. "Now don't look down. I've got ye."

In that moment, he leapt and my stomach flipped. I could feel my heart pounding against Bofur as we sailed through the air. It felt like one of those dreams where you're falling from a cliff. Except, we actually were falling from a cliff. In desperation I clung even tighter to the dwarf. I thought I was going to die.

I couldn't help my life from flashing before my eyes.

"S'okay, we've landed." The thud of his boots sounded and his figure jolted. He took a second to smile at me meekly and help me pry my arms from his body.

As much as my aches wanted to protest, we were running again. Down, down, down. My stomach churned and my limbs numbed. Trees and underbrush left scratches along my arms as we sprinted through the forest. The faint smell of fire and earth hung in the air. Still, we could hear the screeches behind us, and my eyes searched vigorously for the dwarf that called for me to jump. I could find him nowhere, so I pushed on.

Ori ran at my side now, pulling out his sword. "Lizzie take your weapons out!" His eyes were urgent and frightened. I would have given anything at that second to be sitting by the fire knitting with Ori like we occasionally did, instead of running for my life with him. I wanted to make mittens, not slaughter monsters.

I choked out a breath as I ran smack dab into a clearing. The dwarves were stacking in on each other, none of them willing to run another inch. From that point the only way out of the situation involved fighting.

"Sweet Jesus if I ever get out out this-"

And then they were on us. Howling, scratching, biting, and bearing their teeth with their golden eyes blazing against the dark. They were nasty creatures, bigger than dogs and wolves, sporting fangs that looked sharper than a lion's. It took all of the fear in me to draw my knives from my belt and face down my enemy.

My knives went quick, sinking into flesh and tearing muscle. Shrieks grew louder as the beasts died at the hands of the dwarves. Bodies flew at me from almost every direction, and I knew I couldn't hold out long.

"Lizzie!" It was Kili. Covered in sweat, blood, and dirt, he sliced open the throat of a creature baring down on him. He looked exhausted and frantic. "You've got to stay behind us!" His hand shot out and I was being pulled to his side quickly. "I am not about to let you get hurt." My eyes darted to his shoulder, wet with fresh blood, a large gash visible just under his torn cloak.

"No-" I tried to protest, but he wouldn't hear it. There wasn't any time to argue while there were monsters bounding at us from every side.

We were as good as dead. Oh God, we were all going to die here.

That's when everything went black.

CHAPTER ONE.

Bright. Everything was so very bright.

I couldn't remember the last time I had woken up to the sun beaming through my windows so intensely. Neither had my room been so warm and nice with an air about it like a summer breeze. Odd. I could smell the fresh scent of grass and field flowers drifting throughout the air. It felt so magnificent I didn't want to open my eyes. It was Saturday after all, and I didn't have to be anywhere.

"My dear what are you doing out here so early?"

What? Who- My eyes shot open. I was definitely not in my bed.

A man with a blue pointy hat, grey beard and robes stood before me, leaning on a staff of wood with a quizzical look on his face. I recognized him from somewhere, but I couldn't put my finger on it. He stood silently, looking at me expectantly against the bright blue sky.

I shot him a confused look. "I-I'm not quite so sure myself. I was at home and now I'm well... here. I don't quite know where on earth I am. I-uh, maybe I'm dreaming. This is all so strange... what-"

He lowered his eyes and looked at my face with great interest before an expression of recognition swept across his features. His eyebrows raised and he let out a chortle as if he were meeting a long lost friend on the road changed by the difference of just a few years.

"Elizabeth, why it's you! Heavens I have been waiting to stumble upon you for so long. I was quite afraid I wouldn't have any luck before I reached Bag End."

"I beg your pardon sir? How do you know my name? What's going on?" The words blundered out of my mouth. Literally, how the heck did he know who I was?

I strained my eyes to search around the old man. I sat in the middle of a field of tall, brilliantly green grass not far from a dirt road, leaned up against the trunk of a tall willow tree. A stream cut through the east end of the field, and what looked like a farm house was perched directly near the edge of a forest on the north end. My surroundings were far more delightful and charming than I'd ever seen any place look.

"Oh- you do not know. No matter, we have places to be." He held his hand out directly, helping me up from the grass. My eyes were still wide in shock, and he gave a quick grunt at my expression. "Dear you have got to stop looking like that. Let me tell you I am Gandalf the Grey, since you have obviously forgotten. "

"Gandalf the-" Wait. My mind felt like thousand horses were thundering through my head.

"Yes?" He questioned me with a raised brow and began to walk toward the road. I found myself running and catching up to his long strides. I might as well have followed him- I had nothing to lose.

"Where are we? And... where exactly are we going?"

"Why, to Bag End. Precisely where I told you I was headed a minute ago. We are in the Shire. I believe you were sleeping near the old Sackville-Baggins's farm-" he grimaced, "-an odd place for you to be."

Gandalf. The Shire. Bag End. Baggins. Why I didn't recognize it before, I didn't know. What on Earth was going on? I thought was dreaming. How else would I have magically appeared in Middle Earth? This was a ridiculously vivid dream. What had I been doing before I fell asleep-

"And you aren't dressed properly either. But I suppose you didn't know. The Valar work in their own ways."

"Vala-who?" And then I looked down at my clothes.

A long white dress hung off my frame with lace and embroidery that made it appear like it had once belonged to a princess, I was wearing no shoes, and my hair had grown to my waist. Gandalf had appeared quite tall as I thought he should have been, but I was short. Quite shorter than I could ever recall. I ran my hands through my hair and found a flower crown perched atop my head. What was I, the fairy wood princess? What even.

"You know the Valar. But how is your family, Elizabeth? Have they taken your travel well?"

I thought back to my mother, very much still in the real world in Brighton. My cat Twinks, curled up at my feet before I went to bed the previous night.

"I don't think they know." If I were dreaming, then how would my mother possibly know? I observed my feet and noted they were still small.

"Well I suppose that makes sense, seeing you don't even know how you got here yourself." He smiled lazily at his comment before turning back to direct his eyes toward my clothes. "We will have to do something soon about those. You won't get past the edge of the Shire in that."

I laughed. "I usually wouldn't make it out my own front door in something like this." My front door... home. But this was a silly dream.

"Tell me, what were you doing before you got here?"

It took a second for me to recall. "I was at home with my mother. We were talking about something I can't think of, and then I went to bed. I had been out for tea with a few of my friends since it was too cold to go to the beach. I remember my cat curling up against me and falling asleep."

"Well." Gandalf reached beneath his robes and brought out a pipe. "How curious."

We passed over hills and through fields on that dirt road, walking in silence, not once stopping along the way. Houses- or Hobbit holes- were scattered everywhere, some places more densely populated than others. Occasionally animals would stop to look at us curiously, but not a soul paid us much attention. Most were interested in their gardening or reading the papers on their porches.

"Ah, here we are." Gandalf grinned when we reached the top of a particularly large hill. A Hobbit was sitting on a stone bench outside of his hole, smoking his pipe. He wore a colorful outfit, and had a rather proud look on his face as he was deep in thought. His front garden was immaculately trimmed and his door was freshly painted. He quickly startled from his musings when he saw us coming.

"Good morning!" The Hobbit called, sending Gandalf a bizarre look. Gandalf raised his eyebrows and turned his gaze down on him.

"What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"

The Hobbit looked truly perplexed. Heck, even I was confused. "All of them at once, I suppose."

"Well. No matter, I do not have time to discuss what kind of morning it is. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure." At once, at the sound of the word adventure, Bilbo's bewilderment turned into a frown.

"We Hobbits are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty, disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I have no time for adventures." He turned on his heel as if to start toward the house and then sighed in exasperation. He had forgotten his mail. I watched as he nervously sifted through the letters.

"Good morning!" He shot Gandalf a pointed look and stuck the pipe back in his mouth. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you!"

"Bilbo Baggins-" Oh. It was him. He looked startled that Gandalf knew his name. "You do know my name, though you don't remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf. And Gandalf means well... me! To think that I should have lived to be good morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!"

Bilbo squinted his eyes. "Gandalf... Gandalf! Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! They were splendid!" Gandalf made a quick scoff. I didn't blame him- he had much greater things to be remembered by that Bilbo's recognition was almost an insult. "I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business."

"Where else should I be? All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me."

"And who's this?" Bilbo asked. His brown eyes were now directly on me. "I beg your pardon, but I am sure I don't remember her."

"Miss Elizabeth Woolridge." Gandalf smiled gently down at me and put a hand on my shoulder. "She is helping me in this adventure."

"Wait-" I furrowed my eyebrows. I didn't remember agreeing to any adventure.

"Oh, I see. Well I don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Good morning! But please come to tea- any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Good bye!" Bilbo, with his light hair and particularly large feet, gave a nod in our direction and proceeded to enter his house, leaving us in his garden.

"He's quite persistent in saying no," Gandalf mumbled, trekking through a few beds of flowers to reach the front door, "But I am also persistent in my thought that he is the Hobbit for this adventure."

With that, he began scratching a strange mark in the green paint with his staff.

"What's that for?" I asked as he admired his work for a few seconds, seeming to deem it acceptable. I could see Bilbo staring from the window inside as if he were trying to figure out why we were still at his door. A flustered look washed over his face before he retreated back into his home.

"All in good time, you will see. Now come, we've got to find you some clothes before this evening!"

Wahoo! There's the prologue and first chapter done for you!

Let me start off by saying I am so incredibly excited for this. I had so much fun writing this. I included the prologue and first chapter together in this one part because I think leaving on that kind of note would leave a rather sour taste in the mouth because you haven't been properly introduced to anything yet by that point.

This will be based on the Hobbit (and heck, I don't know, maybe even beyond but I haven't decided anything), and will follow both the book and the movie with probably quite a few things from my imagination. I intend on making this a detailed story because heaven knows I don't want to be halfway through the novel by the first ten chapters. And YES, this is a Kili/OC story.

I don't want to keep rambling on, so I'll stop. If you have any questions about the story or have any constructive criticism go ahead and shoot me a PM or leave a review. Hope you enjoyed!