Dog Days

Ch 3

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since you had woken up a modern girl in middle earth. You explained your situation to Gandalf as best you could, and he in turn vowed to help try to send you home to the best of his abilities. You were grateful for this of course, but you still were a bit miffed.

You didn't want to stay any longer than you had to.

In the meantime, you got to know your company. Originally, it was an even fourteen, not counting Gandalf. He popped in and out at times, maybe for a smoke or something. You weren't really sure.

There were thirteen dwarves, thirteen names and faces you had to remember. While you weren't too good with names, you could easily recognize faces. You were sure you'd get the hang of everything at some point.

So far you had memorized six of the names and faces. That left seven more.

The leader of this rag tag group was Thorin. He reminded you of an alpha wolf. His pack had nothing but the utmost respect for him, and trusted him with their very lives. Thorin was a bit grouchy however, which reminded you of an old badger.

You were certain it was only the stress of the situation you were all in that made him this way. He seemed pretty loving and friendly towards his nephews, Fíli and Kíli when he was in a good enough mood, so you decided he was okay to trust.

Fíli and Kíli were Thorin's young nephews. You noted that they were pretty friendly by default, and were good enough company to keep you from being bored. They told amusing stories to pass the time as you all traveled, gaining a small smile or two from you. You were sure the younger dwarves' mission was to get you to double over with laughter at some point.

Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, three cousins you believed, were the next fellows you had become acquainted with. You didn't know much about Bifur only that he was a toy maker, and that he had the rusted remains of a fucking axe , stuck in his head.

Although you found that to be quite badass, it was still unnerving to look at. Damn did it hurt?

Bofur and Bombur were more closely related than Bifur because they were brothers. Bofur seemed to be a pretty chill guy, he didn't talk much, at least not to you. He had a very nice singing voice, which helped lull you to sleep some days.

Bombur was your favorite. This immense dwarf was by far the fattest one in the Company, but that never stopped him from hauling ass when he needed to. Wherever Bombur was, there was surely good food. You made sure to keep tabs on whatever he was interested in. It could bode well for you.

While living with your new acquaintances, you discovered some interesting quirks.

You found that after some time of living with the group, Thorin liked to sleep in the nude every now and again. The other dwarves were the same in habit, which as an idea itself was kind of cute. Like little kids imitating their parents.

But then again, it was also creepy because they were again, naked. You found yourself sleeping a good distance away from the group often. Bombur was a sleepwalker, and there was no amount of blinking, crying or bleach in the world that could erase that image.

Today was like every other day since you had arrived; long, boring travel. You longed for your home, for your modern day comforts. Before you died, you planned to sneak away for a movie. Deadpool 2 had just come into theatres, and you were hella excited to see the Merc With a Mouth mindfuck theatres again.

You sighed, slouching against Bilbo's pony Myrtle's soft mane. Due to the fact that there were only enough ponies for the original members of the Company, you were stuck riding with someone. You hoped that Bilbo didn't mind you sitting with him.

It was easy for you to trust the hobbit. He was a warm hearted little guy with impressive manners given the situation. Bilbo had shared with you the details of how the company had appeared on his doorstep and eaten all of his food just before he had the nerve to sign himself into their mission as their Burglar.

You wondered how he had enough patience for all of these shenanigans in under a short period of time. It must be the pipeweed he and Gandalf occasionally smoke together. Yes, that was it. It seemed like some good stuff. Maybe they would let you have some?

It had been some time since you'd gotten high, and you kinda missed the plant giving your eyes a new light to the world.

Myrtle stopped moving, and whined softly as Minty, Thorin's pony came to a stop ahead of her. It must be time to set up camp for the night. You thought heaving yourself off of the small horse. The rest of the Company's ponies trotted over to a patch of greenery, settling down to rest while their riders got off and stretched.

You helped Bilbo off of Myrtle, vaguely aware of the fact that the little man heated at your touch. He cleared his throat, an indication that he was quite uncomfortable. Holding back a smirk, you turned away to nurse your sore rump. Sitting on a small horse for countless hours was sure to hurt anyone.

The sound of cloth folding alerted you to Gandalf placing himself down near your resting place. "Oh, hello there Gandalf." You spoke, smiling at the old wizard. He pulled a pipe from his cloak and returned your friendly gesture. "Hello there (Name). How has this trip been treating you lately? Feeling a bit sore I assume." He said, eyes full of mirth. You flushed, embarrassed that it was so obvious, but you were just rubbing your ass.

Playing it cool, you just shrugged. "I suppose so. Things are a bit different than what I'm used to is all." Was that entirely true? You had to run a lot when you were in your world, so it wasn't that you couldn't keep up with the Company, it was just that you couldn't stand sitting still. Yes, that was it. "But at the same time," you continued, "things are kind of the same."

The old man raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "I was always on the move. I... wasn't in the best situation for a girl my age, you know?" Gandalf assured he really didn't. "I didn't make the best choices in who my friends were, and pretty soon I was in over my head. I couldn't get out fast enough, and well, as you saw, it got me drowned by my friends."

You weren't really ready for the sad look upon Gandalf's face, you weren't really ready for anything at the moment. "Why would the do that?" Gandalf asked you, drawing a breath from hit lit pipe. He exhaled, and you gave a crooked grin, chuckling dryly. "We had differing opinions." The wizard said no more on that topic, but lay his aged hand on your shoulder and gave you a gentle squeeze. Something in your stomach tightened.

"Well my dear (Name), I do hope you've come to accept us all as better friends. He stood up to leave, and you wondered if Gandalf had only ever come over just to talk to you. What for though? Small talk? You half hoped it was something about how to get you home, but it didn't seem so.

Something clattered to the ground next to you as Gandalf walked away, the smoke from his pipe whirling around him. It seemed like some sort of stick, or cane, and your first reaction was to grab it, thinking it as a walking stick for the old man. You reached out to grab it, your fingers closing around it's thin frame.

A painful shock raced up your arm, your nerves feeling as though they were going to explode. Pressure ached terribly in your head, and a bright light opened in front of your eyes. Images exploded across your vision. You couldn't possible recognize any of them, you couldn't tell who was there either. Your mouth flew open in a shriek of terror and pain, then you collapsed, your arms tingling.