dwarf wearing a blue cloak and silver tassel stood on the other side of the door. His hair was laced with silver yet he was not old and his eyes were blue, but in the light of Bag End looked to be the color of the sky before a coming winter storm. Arethusa stood behind the dwarves, peeking out from her spot between the widest dwarf and the shortest. The fairy had yet to hear him speak but she knew, by the way, he held his head high he was nobility. It was both alluring and repellent.

"Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door." The fairy silently scoffed, there was only one road in Hobbiton and before it could branch out you would see Bilbo's door.

"Mark? There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago." Curiously, Bilbo glanced to his door barely seeing the faint runic marking.

"There is a mark; I put it there myself." Gandalf was quick to anger and Arethusa could tell by his tone that he was becoming agitated with the hobbit's lack of enthusiasm. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." The fairy slunk back, further away from the company of dwarves as Gandalf had forgotten about her for the moment. She had heard that name before but now whatever memory associated with it had faded into over a hundred lifetimes.

"So, this is the Hobbit." Thorin peered down at Bilbo, his gaze nothing less than scrutinizing of the rather small fellow. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Arethusa furrowed her brows, hobbits were not bred for battle. They were gentle folk who loved the comforts of home more so than adventures and unpredictable lifestyles. "Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" The leader of the company questioned.

"Well, I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant." Bilbo was quite proud of his skill at the children's game, but Conkers would not help him in the wild, even Arethusa knew that much. Going out your door was always a dangerous business.

The dwarves flooded through to the dining room once again, only this time, their manners were not a complete loss. The fairy slipped from the door, breathing in the cool air of the night. Mazey perked her head up from where she had been munching on grass.

"I've had enough of dwarves for today," she began, "in fact, I think I've had enough of them for the rest of my life." The pony snorted like she agreed. Arethusa brushed back her mane and sighed. She would leave this instant but thought better of it as she never left without telling her dear friend goodbye. When the chill finally settled into her bones she returned back to the hobbit hole, ignoring the eyes that followed her every move. She found Bilbo sitting in his armchair, a mug of tea in his hands, face white as a bedsheet and quietly talking to Gandalf.

Arethusa placed her hand on the hobbit's forehead out of instinct, "Look what you've done to him, wizard." Gandalf let out a long puff of pipe smoke.

"Then it is a good thing there is a healer on hand." She scowled at the old man and went to rummage around in the kitchen, hoping to find feverfew, or maybe even lemon balm and lavender, something to help calm her friend. When she returned with a warm tonic Bilbo had left from his armchair and now she stood in a room filled with dwarves.

Thorin met her gaze but turned back to Kili when he spoke something too low for her to hear over the crackle of the fire. Arethusa sat the mug down and turned to return to her room as well. She halted in her tracks when a single dwarf began to sing, and unlike the song before this one was tamer and full of longing for a lost home. Her heart began to ache at thought of her home.

"Far over the Misty Mountains cold to dungeons deep and caverns old..." the fairy glanced back into the room, it was Thorin who had begun the song, his voice deep and smooth. Then they all stood and joined in. "We must away ere break of day to find our long-forgotten gold. The pines were roaring on the height. The winds were moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread. The trees like torches blazed with light."

The wizard looked at her, "There will always be need for a healer among a company bound to run into tribulations." She took the words to heart and went back to her room, packing her bag and writing a note as she knew they would depart long before Bilbo awoke.

A voice came from behind her and from all the dwarves present she already knew it to be their leader who was speaking. "A fairy?" Arethusa couldn't quite make out the tone of his voice as he asked the question.

"Yes." Her reply was simple, hardly even looking up she began rolling the last of her cloth tunics to stuff into the canvas bag.

"You are not of Middle Earth." This was not a question but a statement.

The fairy stood to her full height, she was far from impressive in the eyes of the dwarf. Shorter than the hobbit and more dainty looking than an elf. Thorin saw her as a burden and cursed the wizard for asking her to accompany them. "No. I hail from Númenórë." Or she once had, her home was long gone. Middle Earth was her home now.

"And what of your fighting skills?" His arms were crossed, he looked down the long and narrow point of his nose.

Arethusa pursed her lips and shoved a pair of breeches into her bag rather aggressively. "I was raised with a bow in hand, Master Dwarf." It had been custom that the fairies, the great guardians of Meneltarma, be trained in combat. The training began with a bow as soon as a child could walk. That had been an age ago.

"Bows will do little at close range." The fairy had long become irritated with the dwarf, not only had he insulted her dearest friends but now he was belittling her as well. From beneath the sleeve of her dress, a small metal point poked into her palm and carelessly she turned, throwing the small knife so it was embedded in the wall next to Thorin's left ear.

"That is why I carry these. Would you like to doubt me again?" Her ears were burning again, her eyes fumed with anger. Thorin looked into the unsettling violet irises for too long, a chill ran up his spine.

Thorin's voice was gruffer when he spoke, his eyes were stormier now than she had seen the entire evening, "We leave at first light." With those words, he turned back and retreated to where the rest of the company were.

Light broke through the small round window but Arethusa had already woke hours earlier. While the dwarves packed their bags and strapped them onto the saddles of their ponies Arethusa ventured back into the hobbit hole. She gathered up the contract they had wanted Bilbo to sign and her letter that had been written last night and laid them on his kitchen table before grabbing her pack and bow.

They rode from Hobbiton at a leisurely pace for a quest that had a strict timetable; Arethusa remained at the back of the caravan, making small conversation with Ori, he was younger than most of the company, only older than Kili and Fili and had a strange affinity for knitting that she found rather charming.

"A scarf." Arethusa smiled when he listed off the things that he could make for her once they won the mountain back. A sweater, mittens, hat, scarves. She had already allowed a soft spot to form, he seemed too gentle for a quest such as this.

Then from behind a small voice came through the forest. "Wait! Wait!" The fairy turned her pony around and the dwarves halted. Bilbo was sprinting, the contract unrolled and flying behind him, a walking stick in the other hand. "I signed it!" He glanced up at Arethusa before handing the contract to Balin, who inspected the signature with a pocket glass before tucking it away in the folds of his clothing.

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." The dwarves let out small cheers, all but Thorin. He appeared unimpressed that the hobbit had actually decided to come along. The hobbit, in his excitement, was more like Belladonna Took then he would ever realize.

The leader looked down at Bilbo, "Give him a pony," Arethusa glared at the dwarf until he looked away, turning back to the path. But Arethusa knew that hobbits preferred not to ride so it was only natural when he rejected, "No, no, no, that won't be necessary. I'm sure I can keep up on foot. I- I- I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know. I even got as far as Frogmorton once - whaa!"

Kili and Fili each rode up beside the hobbit, clutching the material of his outer coat before lifting him only the spare pony. Arethusa laughed quietly as the dwarves tossed pouches of coins to each other, Bilbo looked on confused, riding ahead to keep beside Gandalf. A short time later, Bilbo sneezed, stopping his pony while the other dwarves passed him by, Arethusa watched him search his pockets, mumbling about the horse hair and having a reaction.

"No, wait, wait! Stop! Stop! We have to turn around." The hobbit declared, the company came to a halt but not without grumbling their annoyances. Arethusa trotted back to where he had stopped and held out a white pocket handkerchief she had pulled from her bag. It was old and stained, worn from age but Bilbo accepted it and the company carried on.

Gandalf shook his head, not kindly either, and looked at the hobbit from under thick brows, "You'll have to manage without handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins before we reach our journey's end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you; the world is ahead." Arethusa kept beside Bilbo and Ori, saying little and watching the dwarves apprehensively.

By dusk, they had come to stop on a cliff's edge. A fire had been built, a small meal prepared, and bedrolls laid out. Pulling an apple from her pack Arethusa crept over to where the ponies were tied off. Mazey was next to Myrtle and when she saw Mazey eating an apple the pony whinnied in jealously until Bilbo appeared at her side with another apple in hand.

The screech that permeated the silent night air was enough to cause the hair to stand up on Arethusa's neck and send Bilbo away in a fright toward the two young brothers. "What was that?"

Kili doesn't seem to realize that Orcs are not a joke. The fairy shuddered at the thought of the vile creatures and at the uttered word she saw Thorin jerk awake. "Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them." The casual manner in which Fili spoke while blowing out his pipe smoke caused Arethusa to frown and yet their banter and terrorizing of Bilbo did not end.

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood." Bilbo looks back to his fairy friend, eyes wide, terrified. The brothers laughed and as she began to march over to them Thorin had already spoken.

"You think that's funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" Arethusa could tell he was disappointed in their behavior and when they both shook their heads and lowered their eyes she saw them for what they were. Boys, they were nothing but boys trying to grow up too fast.

"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili uttered, Balin knew that they were just trying to scare the poor hobbit for fun but Thorin had little room for humor after what he had seen in his lifetime. "No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world." The two dwarves looked up at Arethusa but after a moment of glaring at the brothers, she made her choice and went to stand by Thorin as he overlooked the forest on the opposite side and the river below.

She wasn't quite sure what to say and he took little notice of her presence. "They are your kin, aren't they?" Arethusa looked onward as she spoke; she could feel Thorin turning towards her and she knew he was looking at her ears, with their pointed tips and four piercings. They were too elfen for his liking.

"My sister's sons," He stated with a hoarse voice.

There were another screech and howl in the distance, her violet eyes scanned the horizon but all she saw were the bristling tops of trees. "They are closer than I should like," Arethusa admitted, of all the things she had met on the road orcs were her least favorite. Thorin looked down his nose at her again and she almost knew what he was thinking. "I have run into my share of wild things, Master Dwarf, I am a wanderer after all." He said nothing in response and the voices of the others retelling his battles echoed off the stone.

The dwarf sighed, beginning to come to terms that there was a mutual type of unspoken respect between himself and fairy. "If you do nothing else on this quest, the only thing I ask of you –fairy- is that you keep my nephews safe." His voice was softer, his tone not as harsh. He loved them like they were his own children and they looked up to him like a father.

Arethusa lowered her head, "On my life." Thorin walked away from the cliff's edge and for that she was glad he could not see the binding magic that encompassed her hand and forearm, leaving the design of a trinity knot. Her people had been oath takers when they guarded the citadel and now she had taken an oath. One that should mean her death if it was broken.