Chapter Text
I was wrecked.
Okay, translation for the Americans: I was TIRED. There was just something about the week before Spring Break that is uniquely able to consume every ounce of energy and more. Teachers and students alike at St. Gerard’s High School were worn thin from day to day classes, assignments, and the like. And I still had a mountain of essays to grade before tomorrow. I was tempted to give them all A’s so I could just put my feet up that evening, but I knew I couldn’t. Plus one of the freshmen had, so far, managed to put Steve from Minecraft in every single essay he’d turned in this year. It was amusing, although I’d never admit it to him.
Sighing, I made myself a cup of mint tea, sat down at my kitchen table, and started looking at the papers. Kelsey Thompson was first. Star pupil. Very strong writer; even her school assignments were engaging. She said she wanted to go into engineering, but I secretly hoped she’d find a way to use her writing talents. Luis Aguilar was harder to get through, but he was still highly intelligent and easily earned that A. My first B was Henry Clarke. I felt my eyes grow more and more tired as I got through Hannah Mason’s, Paddy O’Brien’s, and finally Abby Mulvery’s. Halfway through the freshmen, and I knew I needed to stop. School had been out for two hours, and this grading had taken an extra on top of that.
I sighed. This was why I was single.
No. There were more substantial reasons than a busy schedule, I thought as I gave into the temptation to a second bowl of plantain chips.
I had to stop. Not only was my brain tired, but my body was beginning to give the fake hunger cries of boredom. And as I hadn’t been able to make it to the gym in the last week and a half, the energy was just going to nowhere. So I stood up and went back to my living room, taking a look at my Tolkien collection. The Lord of the Rings, my favorite story of all time, had always been a bit of a solace during times like this. When I was bored in college, I turned to fanfiction. Then in the last year I had just reread the Trilogy, listened to The Simarillian for the second time, and rewatched the Hobbit movies. And as I finished my Master’s, history repeated itself and I got sucked back into the world of fanfiction. That was most tempting now, if I was honest. To get out my phone and let my imagination go wild in the universe that Tolkien had so lovingly crafted.
That was when I heard a male scream upstairs, and several thuds.
I jumped. What the fuck? I was alone… I should be alone! My mind ran through what could be going on. Could my landlord’s nephew be visiting? He’s a family friend so they come around from time to time… but they’ve always been really good about texting. About giving me a heads up. I double checked my phone; no such texts had come.
The object of my curiosity entered my vision, tumbling down the stairs of the townhouse.
I jumped back on the couch like an idiot. Yes, the door was barely feet away from me. If I were a smart person, I would have run and called 911 on my way out. But I wasn’t. I just stared as the man landed hard at the bottom of the steps and groaned.
He seemed to stare up at the ceiling, panting heavily. He sat up suddenly, seemingly checking his body for whatever could be wrong. That’s when I recognized him. Beyond a doubt… blonde braids and everything… but it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be!
Then he stared ahead at me, chest heaving up and down in panic. I could see the fear and horror in his sky blue eyes. “Where am I?”
I just stared at him like an idiot, my mind turning. It couldn’t be… it couldn’t be… how was there a dwarf at the base of my stairs?
“Please! Where am I?”
“My house.” My voice sounded lame, even to myself.
“But… where? I shouldn’t be here… the battle… Thorin…. Thorin!”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” I tried. My own voice was just now coming back, but I tried to put that to the side. He seemed so much more distraught than I was.
“The battle, thick around us. I saw Thorin fall… I went for the kill but….” He shook his head quickly, closing his eyes. “I don’t… I was here after that… I don’t think….”
Oh. So the Battle of Five Armies. It had to be. He remembered dying, although not in such specific terms. Oh shit was I going to have to tell him?” “What do you remember before that?”
“We were on a quest. To… please! Just tell me where I am!”
I sighed, taking a seat on the couch again. I believed that he wouldn’t hurt me… unless of course he was a figment of my imagination and I was more tired than I thought. I’d talk to my therapist about it next visit. “Well, you’re in my house for one.”
“And who are you?”
“Ann. Ann Harper. What about you?” Even though I knew the answer.
“Fíli. Fíli, son of Dís.”
I closed my eyes. “You can sit on the couch if you want, Fíli.”
And he did. Mechanically, he walked over to the sofa and took a seat. I took a moment to look him over. Even though he had told me he’d just come from battle, he didn’t look like it. He was surprisingly clean. His golden hair had no trace of blood, dirt, or any other grime. He looked sweaty to be sure, but I had the feeling it was just his nerves. And maybe the fact that he decided to land in Texas of all places. “You remember battle and then being here. Do you remember anything in between?”
Fíli shook his head. “I feel as though I was hit with something. It was almost as though whatever it was, it hit me and made me fall down your steps.”
I looked at him. Just looked.
“Please, you must know something! This isn’t the Halls of Mahal so I can’t… can I… oh!”
He must have seen it in my eyes. I never really did have a good poker face; people hated having me on their team for deception games. But I just took in his form as he began to process reality.
“I died in battle.” His whole body began to shake. “Oh Thorin… and Kíli… how can I leave them?”
“I’m sorry, Fíli.”
He put his head and his hands and sobbed. For a moment I realized how young he truly was. I work with teenagers. As a teacher at a small Catholic High School, I’m pretty used to the mood swings and turmoil that comes with all the weird changes at that point in life. I also watched, sometimes with pride and sometimes with fear, as our seniors transitioned from awkward teens to young men and women who now had to learn how to “adult”. On my couch, crying, I saw a young dwarf who was taken away from this dilemma nearly as soon as he was placed into it.
“I’m sorry Fíli, but you did die in Battle. But you’re not where you’re supposed to be… this isn’t the afterlife. Like I’m very much alive here.”
“Then where in Durin’s name am I?”
“Earth. We’re kinda like Middle Earth, but thousands of years into the future.”
He began to pace nervously, trying to process everything I was throwing at him. “How do I return?”
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know you can….”
“Wait, how did you know?”
Well shit. He seemed to be struggling with the news of him dying… of being a different world…. If that wasn’t enough to swallow, dropping the whole “and you’re a fictional character” part might do him in. Especially when he was standing, utterly distraught, before me now.
“You want some tea?” I asked, trying to deflect. “I also have some fruit and almonds if you want… it’s probably been a little while since you’ve eaten.”
Fíli nodded slowly, his eyes becoming big like a puppy’s. “I cannot recall my last meal….”
“Good! That’s something I can fix. Here, take a seat at the table.”
He obliged as I popped into the kitchen and turned on the electric kettle. After living three years in England, I couldn’t imagine life without one and a teapot, so those were some of my first purchases returning stateside. And today, with a distraught dwarf originated by a British Professor, it seemed to come in handy. I popped two Yorkshire tea bags inside, and brought it over. Along with two mugs and a pitcher of milk.
“Sugar?”
“No.” I didn’t like how he was staring blankly ahead at me. Not that I was any expert on how one should be acting in this situation….
“What is that?” asked Fíli suddenly.
“What?”
“The white door? In which you placed the milk?”
“Oh,” I said as I looked at my fridge. “This is a refrigerator. It keeps my food cold so it doesn’t go bad.”
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How?”
“Well as much as I’d love to explain the wonders of electricity to you, it’s probably a conversation for another day.” I sat down and poured each of us a cupful, and placed the fresh spring blackberries on the table in front of us. Fíli took multiple eagerly and began eating.
“Thank you,” he said softly, eyes still darting around the room.
“There’s no orcs or anything dangerous here,” I told him. “The worst thing you could get in my house is a paper cut.”
“How is it you live in such safety?” he asked. “Is your husband a mighty warrior?”
“Well don’t have one...” I trailed off. I felt a pang in my stomach as I had to admit this truth to the young dwarf. Thankfully Fíli seemed content to let the subject be.There were a plethora of other subjects for him to take curiosity in.
“Ann, you seemed to know of the battle. Even a world away. How?”
I sighed, but in the end there was nothing for it. I went back to the Tolkien shelf I had been staring at barely ten minutes before. I moved across the spines of The Lord of the Rings until I came across my green copy of The Hobbit. One that I’d gotten when I was about 10 years old and read many times since. I went back to the table where Fíli sat and showed him the book.
“The story is here,” I said simply. “The story where you followed your uncle, Thorin Oakenshield, across the world to reclaim the lost city of Erebor.”
Fíli’s eyes widened as he examined the book. As he cracked open the pages and began to read. He flipped ahead, looking at more parts skimming as he went. “I’m in here.”
“You all are. You, Kíli, Bilbo, Óin, Glóin….”
His face turned a strange shade that made him look sick. That’s when I remembered: he had never told me any of their names. And here I was spouting them off as though they were on the bonus round of a trivia game.
“I know the story. The whole story.”
“But you cannot tell me how I got here? Or why?”
I shook my head. “If I had to guess it had something to do with you dying, but why I’m not sure.”
Fíli nodded, setting the book down. “I can’t… I can’t….”
“Fíli?”
Both of our heads snapped up to the top of the stairs. Standing at the base, just under the mounted deer head, was none other than Thorin Oakenshield.