Well here is the first installment of my revised chapters. Fixed typos and changed some things around. Thanks you to all of my loyal readers out there for bearing with me on this one. I'm working hard to spit out the chapters! Love you all!

Disclaimer: I only own my characters.

I never really thought of myself as the violent type. Never thought I'd get in a fight at all. I was a quiet girl. For the most part. Kind to my friends, tried not to get into any trouble, which wasn't very hard, and was always known to be straight edge. Emma Hughes, the polite, reserved, and sometimes awkwardly amusing girl who would never harm a fly. Totally oblivious to anything outside of my own little bubbled up world.

That was how it had been for so long. Until I met Oliver. He was everything I wasn't. Loud, overambitious, funny, and never thought twice about something he wanted to do. I guess he probably saw me as a challenge, spotting me one day in a coffee shop with a couple friends he was acquainted with. The moment I laid eyes on the blonde haired, blue eyed god I was instantly head over heels. Is that how they say it? Was it love? I have no idea. Lust perhaps? Well, if you saw the stud who made eyes at me then yea, that's exactly what it would be.

That man made it a mission to run into me "coincidentally" as much as possible. I didn't get it at first. I was an almost too skinny, chocolate haired (as my mother said...I thought it was an atrocious colour and it always frizzed in the worst ways when it was humid) girl with my father's emerald green eyes, and the 'fairest' skin out there. Seriously, the sun and I didn't get along. At all. It was literally my worst enemy. I have freckles and sometimes tripped over my own feet. Most of the time I had my face in a book. I was so meek and small. Probably why he had called me "little mouse" for the first few months I had known him. I should have slapped him when he gave me that nickname. It stuck, unfortunately.

So it made absolutely no sense as to why he would be interested in a girl like me.

At first I wanted to stay as far away as possible, but the more he popped up mysteriously to see me, the more I found myself drawn to him. It was his eyes. His bright blue eyes. They were so captivating. Like an endless crystal clear sky.

He was exactly what I wasn't. Embodied all that I couldn't.

And obviously it didn't take him long to ask me out a few times for dinner...it did, however, take quite some time for me to say say.

But once I did...it was all over for me.

After that there was a couple late night rendezvous at my place for a movie, one horrendous night at a club that ended up with me hiding in the bathroom from embarrassment (I was a terrible dancer), and of course the occasional house parties at a friend's house...which was all too uncomfortable for me. Mostly because they weren't my friends, but in fact, his.

Not once in our entire interactions had Oliver been too forward or unruly. He gave me small kisses here and there, when alone he would hold me and we'd kiss for hours. He knew I was a virgin. I was raised to value my virtue, even though it was killing me to hold back from him. Twice, I almost said "Fuck it" and would have thrown my clothes off in a second, but unfortunately the voice of my overbearing father hauntingly came to mind.

"Don't just give it away Emma! You're a Hughes, not a whore!"

The moment the words came out of his mouth I was terrified. He shouted at me when I was seventeen, catching me half naked with an ex, who only became an ex after my father refused to let me see him again. Asshole. That is exactly what my dad was. Rich, snobbish, and all about values (or to be more accurate he was more worried about what people thought of him and his family). God, I hated that man.

His voice would always pop into my head when Oliver and I were in the heat of the moment. It made any progress come to a screeching halt. I knew the poor bloke wanted so much more. It was depressing telling Oliver no, but that stupid voice in my head kept telling me it was a bad idea.

He would just look at me and sigh. It was almost heartbreaking.

Together for several months, Oliver had completely changed how I looked at life. I found a better sense of humour, went out more, even dolled myself up a few times and tried to look sexy for him, but that had only made his attempts all the more aggressive.

I'd fallen for him by then.

But the idea of giving myself to him was...I don't know.

It was like my intuition told me not to. So I didn't. I didn't think much more into it than that.

How very foolish of me.

On a cool night, I found myself sitting on my couch, my face shoved into a book. My small library took some neglect after Oliver set himself into my life. Hence why I found the need to start reading. The book welcomed me like an old friend. I thought it would be a quiet night in my small apartment. I'd not planned for company, but I still had on my clothes from work. I wore my denim skinny jeans, a white tank top, and a black cardigan. Wasn't comfortable, but I was so engrossed in the book that I couldn't move.

A knock on the door startled me. It was loud and impatient. I sighed and got up from the comforts of my couch, setting down my old copy of The Hobbit. How ironic right? I was making my way over to the door when the knocking started up again.

"Alright, alright! Don't get your knickers up in a bunch..." I grumbled as I dragged myself to the door.

I made a grab for the handle when, quite suddenly, the person on the other side decided to ram a shoulder against the door. I let out a startled squeak and jumped back as though the door was on fire. The wood bent as the body on the opposite side hit it with great force. I was definitely not waiting for whoever was on the other side to come in. Rushing back over to the couch, I grabbed the phone and began dialling the police.

"Oi you wanker! I'm calling the police so you better leave!" I barely had time to finish the sentence when the door finally gave way and the intruder stood in the doorway.

I was holding the phone out in, thinking I was about to be murdered by some lunatic, when the familiarity of just who I was staring hit me. I lowered the phone when I recognized Oliver in the entryway.

"Oliver? What the hell are you doing? You broke my door!" Was this some sort of joke? He must have done it to scare the ever living piss out of me. Bloody fucking git.

He didn't say anything. Just looked at me for a few intense moments. He had the strangest look on his face. It actually scared me. His eyes roamed over my body and just when I thought he would spend the entire night doing only that he turned and shut the door. He already broke it, why the hell would he think to close it if it wont stay closed?

"Oliver what's going on...Are you alright? Did something happen?" I made the stupid mistake to hang up the phone and take a step toward him.

He was still once again. His back was to me and a hand was pressed firmly against the door. He wore his normal coat, which was wet from the rain outside, and the rest of him look disheveled. His hair that was usually styled up was dripping around his face. I had no idea what was going on and to be honest, I just wanted him to leave.

"Oliver?" I didn't move any closer. I was too nervous.

"Take off your clothes." He finally spoke. It was deep and demanding.

Stunned and thinking I heard him wrong I asked-"What?" - like a git. I should have run then and there.

He turned to face me. His eyes were dark and malicious. What was wrong with him?

"I said take your clothes off. Now." He took a step toward me while removing his coat and throwing it to the floor. The sudden thud resounding enough to make me jump.

"Why are you doing this?" I was so confused by the way he was acting. Taking a step away from him, I knew putting as much space as possible between us would be wise.

"Shut the fuck up! I have been waiting far too long for this..." He wasn't acting like himself. He would never...I realized then that there was a slur to his speech.

"You're drunk.." I stated.

Oliver only smirked and moved towards me slowly. I side stepped to put the couch between us. It was a good move...so far.

"How very observant of you Emma. Now do as I say and this will go much smoother." I almost didn't catch what he said because it was slurred.

I narrowed my eyes, which were a little watery from the tears that threatened to escape my lids.

"I will do no such thing. Leave now Oliver and sleep it off. You're acting crazy!" The last comment had made him glare at me.

He said nothing after that. We both stood there in a tense stand off. I was unsure of what exactly he had planned to do when he got here, besides try to have sex with me, but now the look on his face told her things were turning much more sinister.

The seconds turned into minutes and neither of us moved. I was mostly too afraid, but I knew if I made the slightest of motions, he might came after me. Maybe if I waited long enough he might just fall over and pass out. That was a solid plan...of course it would have been if he didn't look so damn determined. The silence was broke when the tea kettle I had on the stove was suddenly whistling loudly. Fuck.

It was like someone shot off a gun in a hundred yard sprint. Oliver made his move and rushed around the couch to grab at me. With a scream I was able to duck away and bounded over an end table, effectively knocking it over, and tried to run for the front door. I made it halfway when I felt strong arms wrap around my waist and spin me around. He had caught me.

I gave him the toughest fight I'm sure he ever had to endure. I screamed, kicked, bit, and struggled with everything I had as he dragged me into my bedroom. He threw me onto the bed unceremoniously and strode back to slam the door to my bedroom closed. Scrambling off the bed, I attempted make my escape, but he had the only exit behind him. I was trapped. He knew it too. The devious grin on his face said it all.

"You bastard..." I growled at him. The tears streaming down my face were smearing the small amount of mascara I had on.

He didn't even grace me with an answer. Instead he strode over to me and backhanded me in the face. The force caused me to spin and land face first onto the mattress. My legs dangled off the side of the bed as I tried to regain my footing. The blow had momentarily dazed me. When I came back to reality I could feel that he had pulled my jeans and knickers down to my ankles. I began to cry loudly when I felt him push down on my back with a powerful hand. I knew what was coming next.

The next moments were a blur. I just remember the pain and tears that soaked my bed. It happened so quickly. The next thing I knew he was off me and walking to the bathroom. I was breathing hard and trying not to choke on my cries of humiliation. I slipped off the bed and tired to stand. My legs shook and my body ached. That bastard had took the only thing I could offer someone I loved. I would have given it to him...if he wasn't a monster.

I pulled my pants up and with shaky fingers I tried to make myself look as normal as possible by smoothing out my clothes and fixing my hair. It was the only thing I could think to do. I was so absorbed in trying to make myself look clean that I didn't notice Oliver coming out of the bathroom...or the towel that was now around my neck. He had come up behind me with a towel from my bathroom and was using it to choke the life out of me. I grabbed at the towel and tried to pull it away, but he had twisted it around my neck so tight that it would be impossible to stop him.

We struggled as I kicked and tried claw at his face behind me. Nothing would stop him. Soon the world was starting to turn dark and my lungs burned with the need for air. Panic set in as I fell to my knees. My hands touched the floor next to my bed as I began to sag down. My fingers brushed against something metal sticking out from under the bed skirt. I didn't have time to think. I grabbed it and swung around so quickly it surprised him enough to loosen his grip, giving me enough momentum to bury the metal object into the side of his head.

After he fell, I continued hitting him. Blood was everywhere. It splattered across the wall and on my clothes. The warm liquid exploded with each thrust of my weapon. When I finally stopped I saw his lifeless and bloody body laying on my white carpet. The crimson colour spread across it quickly.

I looked down and saw the hammer in my stained hands. I used it to hang a picture the other day...that's why it was on the floor. I must have forgot to put it away...the move had saved my life. Then I remembered the blood. I dropped the hammer and ran out the room. Tears sprang from my face as I grabbed my keys. I couldn't stay. I couldn't. I had to get out of here. Anywhere.

I was stupid to get in my car. I know that now. I should have phoned the police. It would have been the intelligent thing to do, but I was so messed up I just needed to leave.

I drove as fast as I could out of the apartment parking lot and sped through the traffic like a mad woman. I had no idea where I was going. I just kept driving in one direction. My bare feet continued to push down on the gas pedal. Car lights zoomed by on the other side of the road, some honking their horns when I swerved into oncoming traffic, only correcting it harshly at the last second.

I was in a daze. Completely devoid of all emotion and sense. I didn't even see the traffic light turn red...or the lights of the car coming at me from my right. I barely felt the pain as it crashed into the drivers side. Glass flew everywhere. I should have worn my seat belt.

My body was flying through the air. I had smashed through the wind shield, my body propelled from my vehicle. I fell slowly. Hitting the ground with a loud crunch, I could feel only the patting of something wet against my face. I remembered looking up into the sky. It was still raining. The cool water alleviated any though from my mind. I felt warmth cascade down the side of my head. Blood poured from the wound on my scalp.

I was dying, I knew I was. I could feel the blackness take my consciousness. Why had this happened? I'd humiliate my father...he would be so disappointed in me. They would talk about this. Everyone would. I was no longer his good girl. I was robbed of my virtue and...I had killed someone.

Everything ceased to exist as darkness encapsulated me until there was nothing left. I would never return to the world of the living. I was dead.

The first thing I could remember was feeling like I had been hit by a bus. Groaning I opened my eyes to see the bright sky. Everything was clear and birds sang a little tune in the distance. I sat up slowly, ignoring any aches protesting against the motion. I kept myself up with my hands and continued to look up at the sky. I felt the light tickle of hair against my arms as I strained my neck to keep my gaze.

Everything felt so at peace. Where ever I was, it was very calming. I filled my lungs with the air around me. The scent of nature was strong. It was the cleanest air I had ever taken in.

I flexed my fingers and felt the soft grass that laid beneath me. Wait? Grass? Whoa whoa whoa. I landed on asphalt, didn't I?

My head snapped around to see my surroundings. It was indeed the middle of the day. I vaguely remember it being in the middle of the night and it was raining, right? Had I laid in the street all day? No wait, there was no street. That's right. What the...

"Where am I?.." Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, I stood up and glanced about at the new location. It was very beautiful...but where the hell was I? Maybe I was actually alive and in some strange dreamland...or something like that. Or this could be heaven? I had no clue.

I shook my head and took a few steady steps towards one of the hills. It was the only thing I could think to do. Glancing down I saw that I was still covered in blood and there were bruises on my wrists. I gasped, halting immediately.

"Okay Emma...don't panic. This is just a dream. This has to be a dream." I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on waking up.

"Just wake up. Please just wake up. Emma wake up!" I shouted to myself. This could not be happening. It was all some strange nightmare where I was meant to walk this beautiful place bathed in the blood of someone I had just killed.

I opened my eyes to see I was still in the same place. Nothing had changed. Why was this happening to me? I fell to my knees and bent over crying into my blood smeared hands. If this was hell then I definitely deserved to stay here. The idea of me being dead, never again seeing my friends or family, made me choke out a loud sob. This was not fair. Why should I be punished for something that I had no control over. For protecting myself.

"Dear child, what ever is the matter? Are you wounded?" The voice of a man startled me enough to make me fall back onto my bottom. I gazed up to see a very tall man with a strange pointy hat. He was dressed completely in grey. Why did I feel like I should know him?

He looked so kind. His eyes were full of concern and any trepidation left me when he bent down to kneel beside me. He placed a large hand onto my face and said something in a different language. I felt something tingle, but after that it was nothing.

"You are not hurt...Whose blood is that?" He asked sternly.

"I...please sir. I need help...I think I may be dead..." I stammered out with a few gentle sobs. Tears rolled down my cheeks in rivers of salt.

"Dead? My dear child, you are far from dead. In fact there is nothing wrong with you besides a few bumps and bruises." He said with a gentle smile.

"I don't understand..." I wiped away tears from my cheek. It only caused more blood to smear.

"Here. Let me help you up." The old man pulled me to my feet and made sure I was steady before he began leading me up a cobble stone path.

"Where are we going, sir?" It was odd that I was now calm, but I felt no threat from the old man...though I made the mistake to trust the wrong person before...

"I am going to take you to an old acquaintance. I just finished a delightful conversation with him and should be returning to his home in the next couple days so I think it would be safer if you stayed there than to venture with me...at least until we can get you back to your home...where is it you said you lived Miss..?"

"It's Emma...and I didn't say, but I don't believe it would be anywhere near this place." I found myself looking out into the landscape. Why did this all seem strangely familiar?

"Ah, I see." The old man continued to lead me until he finally stopped. "Here it is. Now Miss Emma I will be leaving you here. Just walk up and knock on the door. He will be more than happy to give you room and board for a few nights and by then I should return...though I would not tell him of our encounter. The next time I see you I will be able to ask you more about your...erm, dilemma, but at the moment I have an urgent matter to attend to." He motioned his staff in the direction I was to go and gave me a wink.

"Thank you sir...I- Thank you for helping me." I gave him a warm smile, which he returned with a kind one. He tipped his hat and began to walk back down the trail.

I turned to look up at the home he had led me to. Wow deja vu. Have I been here before? Suddenly I realized I never asked the old man's name and turned to call out to him.

"Oh wait! Excuse m-..." He was already gone. Odd.

I shook my head and opened the small gate to the home in the hill. Being cautious, I made my way up the stone path to the door and knocked softly.

I hope this guy is nice...I sniffled as I waited and looked down at my hands again. I must look like a monster...

Behind the door there was some muffled talking and the sounds of a door unlocking. The door swung open and before me was a small man. Though I had seemed to be just a few inches taller than him...which was odd because I was considered tall...and now I was short? I should have noticed that sooner when I was with that old man.

When the door had opened the man inside looked very upset. "I told you wizard, I don't want any adven...tures...Oh my. Are you alright Miss?"

"I- I am unsure..." The more I looked at him, the more I could have sworn I knew him. "Have we met?"

He looked suspicious of me and fairly confused. "I don't believe so. My name is Bilbo Baggins and this is my hom-"

"Bilbo Baggins!?" Suddenly I was feeling dizzy.

The old man! Oh my goodness that was Gandalf!

This had to be some kind of dream or death-like state because those were fictional character in a book and I knew that for a fact. I had read The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit about a million times. Not to mention having seen all the movies. None of this could be real, but as I stared at the now shocked hobbit I had no explanation as to what was going on.

I was about to say something else when a sudden darkness clouded my vision and I fainted. Right on the doorstep of Bilbo Baggins, who was none too thrilled about having to drag my ass all the way through his house and into a spare room to care for me.

The last thing I could recall was a flashback to my apartment. The blood on the walls. On my hands. The hammer hanging by my fingers. Oliver dead on my floor.

"Miss. Miss, please wake up!"

There was something cold on my forehead. It felt good. I mumble something incoherent, even to myself, and shifted onto my side. The moment I did that, however, I felt a sharp pain. I sat up with a gasp and held my side. The sudden movement had startled Bilbo, who happened to be sitting next to the bed.

I looked at the hobbit, now remembering what had happened earlier. This was Bilbo Baggins! What a crazy dream.

"Oh thank goodness! I thought you would never wake!" He sounded very worried and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"H-have I been here long?" I tried to sit up more when I noticed that my clothing were missing. Quickly I grabbed hold of the blankets and pulled them up to cover myself with a whimper.

"Oh please don't take offense! I had to take them off of you. They were covered in blood and I feared you may have been wounded. Once I saw you had no wounds I put them out to wash. They were filthy by the way." He was quick to make sure I knew nothing inappropriate occurred while I laid unconscious.

"Thank you...I..How long have I been out?" I asked him. I kept my gaze downcast against the warm blankets. This was so incredibly bizarre. I could barely look at him, much less register that it was indeed the famous hobbit I read about so many times.

"Almost an entire day. You must have been exhausted. I cannot imagine what you have gone through to receive such injuries..." His eyes glanced to my neck and arms. I assume I looked a complete mess. Bruises and cuts littered my skin.

I looked toward a small window in the corner of the room and saw that it was indeed dark outside. I was still very confused about what was going on and why I was in the middle of Bilbo Baggins's home, but it seemed as if there was nothing I could do about it. Maybe I was just in some comma...and this was all just one big dream. One that I was praying I would wake up from. Yea...that sounded right...kind of.

"Thank you Mr. Baggins...you have been very kind to me." It was almost a whisper, but Bilbo gave me a small smile letting me know he heard.

"What is your name?" Bilbo asked as he leaned forward.

"Emma Hughes." I looked at him as I pulled a long strange of hair behind my ear.

He smiled at the sound of my name. "Emma is a lovely name...Where is your home Miss Hughes?"

"I...I don't know." I asked honestly. I had no idea where it would be in this 'world'.

"You don't know?..Have you fogotten?"

"No Bilbo. I have not forgotten. I can never return...I am lost to them." I wasn't sure if it was true or not, but that was how I felt. Lost to the world I was used to. Lost to everyone who loved me.

"...How very sad. Being unable to return to Bag-End would be difficult for me. This has been my home for so long...It must be very hard for you." Bilbo reached over and touched my hand lightly, giving it a small squeeze. "You are welcome to stay here as long as you need...As long as you can help attend to the house and garden. An extra pair of hands around here would be useful."

I smiled brightly at him. This man-err- hobbit knew me for all of one day, most of which I was unconscious for, and he was readily opening his home to me? Who would ever do something like that? I nodded to him. This would be my home until I could find out what was going on.

The next three days were quite tranquil for me. Bilbo was very charitable and made sure not to push me into anything I didn't want to do. The first day I spent in bed, mostly sobbing. I had fallen in love with a man I thought was practically the one, I had a job as an editors assistant that was going great, I was part of an influential family that, beside my father, loved me unconditionally, and I had friends who I knew I would never see again. I was truly alone now. I had no idea if I was dead or if I was just sleeping in the real world and it was unfair that I didn't know.

I was raped, beaten, almost choked to death, killed a man, and launched out a wind-shield during a car accident. To say that I was overwhelmed was an understatement.

Bilbo brought me breakfast, lunch, and dinner the first day without any inquiries or complaints. He clothed me and made sure I was well cared for. It was something I was not used to. I had been taking care of myself for a very long time and to have someone else fill in was uncommon for me.

The second day, I found my way out of the spare bedroom. My curiosity snagged me the moment I woke up. I mean, who wouldn't want a look about his home. It was positively enchanting.

He was very happy to see I was at least removing myself from the stuffy room. I found the bathroom and took a good look into the mirror. I really did look like hell. My hair had not been combed since I arrived and there were bruises on my jaw, neck, and arms. The bags under my eyes were atrocious, making me look as though I lacked sleep for weeks.

With a heavy sigh I took a damp clothed and spent almost an hour cleaning myself up and trying to make myself look presentable. I had never been one to wear make-up, but at the moment I could have really used some cover-up. The bruises were grotesque colour of black and purple. It was an eye sore.

Ignoring my obvious disgust at my appearance, I set out to brush the tangles from my hair. Struggling with the task, I glanced to the table beside basin. On it was a single candle. Great. No electricity. This was going to be a huge difference from the modern world I was used to.

Which reminded me. I would have to tell Gandalf about that. He must know what is going on. He is a wizard after all. Gandalf said he would return after a few days. It wouldn't be too much longer now.

The third day I joined Bilbo outside in the garden. We had just finished picking what he called 'prize winning' tomatoes. The way he spoke about his food made it seem like eating was his life. He had said hobbit holes were known for great company, good food, and warm hearths. He was right about all three of course.

With our attention to the garden for the better part of the day, I found myself extremely exhausted when the evening rolled around. I opted out of eating dinner and said I would eat extra in the morning. Bilbo reluctantly let me go to bed and went to prepare his own meal.

I was half asleep when I heard the ringing of the doorbell. It was literally a bell. I was too tired to see who it could have been. If it was important, Bilbo would wake me. So I laid there, falling into a deep slumber. Secretly I hoped I would wake up in my own bed. That this could all be a dream. Never raped. Oliver didn't exist.

Forget it. Don't think about it. Just sleep...

After my muscles relaxed, I gave in to the darkness.

It was so utterly natural.

I awoke slowly to the sound of several people laughing and talking loudly down the hall.

God, who was being so loud?

Groaning, I lifted my head off the pillow and looked to the door. For a brief second I could have swore I saw the door close.

"Bilbo?" I called out into the dark.

"Mr. Baggins seems to have taken a liking to you." I almost pissed myself.

"Gandalf!" I saw the grey robe at the foot of my bed. Damn he was tall.

"I'm sorry to have startled you Miss Emma." He walked over to the side of the bed and picked up the candle on the night stand. I watched as it lit without a match. "I take it you are fairing better than the last time I saw you?"

"Yes. Bilbo has been taking very good care of me..." I trailed off, knowing there was little time for pleasantries. "Gandalf...I think we should talk." I pulled myself out of bed and grabbed a robe to tie around my body.

" I think that would be a most excellent idea..." Gandalf made himself comfortable on a chair against the wall.

That was when I told him everything. Where I was from, how I had ended up here, what happened to me...I told him about the books and movies. About how this was all make believe and they were character in a book. The entire time I had been pacing the floor, waving my hands around and being more than animated about the story I was laying out to him. He took it in stride and nodded every other sentence. In the end I was out of breath and once again sitting on the bed.

"Well Miss Emma, you seem to be in a unique predicament." The wizard stood up slowly and walked over to me. "But I do believe that you were sent here for a reason...And I am afraid to tell you that this place is very real."

There was a sudden uneasiness to the way he was sitting there, eyeing me as the wheels turned in his head. What could the wizard possibly be thinking?

"I will ask you this only once, Emma. If you wish to find the answers you seek, I would propose that you join us on this quest. Will you accompany us?" No sense in beating around the bush. I already knew about the quest for Erebor and all that came inbetween.

"Why would you want me to come with you? I have no skills in fighting...or much else.." I was more than uncomfortable with what he was asking me.

"You may not have the skills the others have...but you know what is going to happen. You know what is next. That is an advantage we surely need."

Well, he had me there.

"...Does that mean you want me to tell you what is going to happen?" I wasn't so sure that was a good idea.

"No, my dear Emma. You should not tell a soul about this. Not unless I say otherwise. If others knew you held details about the future...if they captured you...the results could be devastating. Tell no one. Not even myself." Gandalf had a serious and almost fearful look in his eyes. It scared the hell out of me.

I had to think about this. Unsure if this was a dream or not, the idea of being a part of this epic adventure was alluring and terrifying at the same time. It was all about Erebor. I was well aware of what was to happen. Letting out a loud sigh, I stood up and looked over to the wizard who was patient enough to let me think without interruption.

In the other room I could hear the laughing dwarves I knew to be there. Even if they weren't real, she wouldn't let them fall to any dangers...she could at least help them out in that sense.

"Alright Gandalf. I will do it."

Gandalf smiled and started for the door. "Find yourself something more appropriate to wear and I shall meet you in the hall. You have a group of dwarves to meet." With that he left me to change my clothes.

The only thing I had was one of Bilbo's mother's dresses and the clothes I had brought with me. After trying on only one of his mothers dresses I had to resort to my own clothes. I barely fit into her work clothes, her nice dresses were too formed to the body of a hobbit. I threw on my skinny jeans and my tank top. It would have to do. For now at least.

I opened the door to see Gandalf waiting for me.

"Are you ready Emma?" He glanced down the hall where I could hear the dwarves becoming louder and sounding like they were having a grand time.

A huff and a nod later, Gandalf was leading me down the hall. Approaching where the dwarves were, the noises became louder. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. There were so many butterflies in my stomach I could have throw up right then and there.

The moment I stepped into view of the dwarves, I was met with a disgusting belch from who she knew to be Ori just by the way he looked. He seemed more simple than the others...and had a childish look about him. The dwarves laughed loudly and patted him on the back.

"I knew you had it in you!" Bofur yelled out with excitement.

This was more than insane. There was no manners to these dwarves. Well, I had known that, but it was still gross.

"Oi! Who's the lass?" Oh shit. Someone saw me. What I wouldn't give to shrink right now...

The dwarves turned when they heard the word 'lass' and silence reined supreme.

Nope. This wasn't happening. I made to go back down the hall, hoping to hide in my room, when Gandalf grabbed me by my shoulders and held me in place.

"This, Master Kili, is Emma. She is another house guest of Mr. Baggins." Gandalf announced.

The dwarves seemed to size me up. Oh god...if that wasn't the most intimidating thing I had ever seen.

"Miss Emma, let me have the pleasure in introducing you to our company tonight." Gandalf started.

I simply put a hand up with a smile. "Trust me Gandalf, I know exactly who they are."

"Oh yes, that is quite right." Gandalf gestured for her to have a seat at the table. "Well you must be famished. Bilbo tells me you have not had supper yet."

I laughed lightly. "I was so tired after gardening all day that I could hardly think of food."

"You should eat something Emma...though I doubt you'll get anything to eat now that this lot have raided my pantry!" Bilbo had come up behind me, startling me enough to jump slightly. He grabbed an empty plate and reached over the table to quickly get some food before it was gone.

"Have a seat in the sitting room, I can bring your supper in there and hopefully some ale, if there is any left." Bilbo called over the commotion that was once again ensuing.

I paled. The last thing I wanted to see right now was anything remotely close to alcohol. "Some water would be just fine Bilbo..." I had turned to leave when a voice called to me.

"Don't be scared lass! We dwarves don't bite...much! Come and have a seat with us!" I looked to see the smiling face of Bofur. He was patting a chair next to him.

I looked around at the dwarves, who were now seeing how I would react. Okay, so it would probably be wise not to insult them by saying 'no'. I gulped and smiled nervously at the dwarf before taking my seat next to him. Bilbo seemed to be just as uneasy about this as I was, but there was little choice in the matter.

Gandalf only snickered and took his own seat while the party resumed. They ate like pigs...it was quite a sight to see. Food was flying across the table, ale was pouring down the side of the mouths and into their beards...ew.

I looked down at my plate and smiled. Food. This may be worth it. Bilbo had the best food I had ever eaten. It was fresh and tasted like it was cared for greatly before it was plated up. I grabbed a fork and took a bite of tomato, at the same time shoving a piece of cauliflower in for good measure. Bilbo knew how much I liked my vegetables and the plate in front of me was packed with 'em.

I heard a laugh from beside me. Bofur had watched me stuff my face and laughed at the small moan of happiness I had let out.

"A lass who loves her food! Been a long time since I've see that!" What he said made the other dwarves let out a laugh of approval.

I, on the other hand, spent the rest of my supper blushing and trying to eat my food more like a lady.

That was embarrassing...