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When Fandoms unite

Chapter Text

"Oh, look who we have here.. The bookworm!" Sophie, a blonde rich bitch from English class, approached you.
"What do you want this time?" You asked, clutching your books. Sophie had been wanting information about your ex boyfriend, Dave, for a long time. You didn't know why, but you refused to tell her anything.
"You know that very well. Give. Me. His. Number."
"Why ask me? Why not ask him himself? I am sure he would love to give it to you," You answered.
"Too much effort. It is much more entertaining seeing your squeal under my words," Sophie said with so much hate it made you shiver.
"I am not squealing under your words! And I refuse."
"You will regret that," Sophie came closer to you, hand in her pocket. Your self defence system took over and you threw your dictionary in her face. You saw your chance and ran, leaving your bag and books behind.
"You will pay for that! I will crush everything you have ever loved!" You heard Sophie screaming behind you. You smiled to yourself. There was no one you had ever loved.

You had found out that you were adopted 3 years before you went to university. It was no surprise to you, seeing that you were always treated as the black sheep of the family. You hated your 'parents'. Your dad was always drunk, and if he wasn't then he was busy beating you. You learned not to be in the house when he got home from work. Your mum was stingy and tried to hold back on your study money as much as possible. You had to earn the money yourself to go to uni, and while you earned money for yourself, your family claimed you to pay them the money back of all they had spend on you. You earned money by working at the local stables. At school, you had no friends, except Ilonka, who you had known what felt like always. You often went to her house to talk about different things, but somehow the conversation would always lead back to the old Gods of the Germanic peoples, such as Odin, Thor, Loki, Forseti and Heimdallr. You loved those conversations. You'd always felt a strange kind of connection with those stories.

You stopped running and looked around. Your feet had taken you to the forest you used to play in when you were little. You had once build a treehouse, but it was ages ago when you had last been in it. There it was. In the tallest oak tree you could see the shape of a treehouse. You walked to the tree. "So many memories.." You whispered as you climbed the tree.
When you entered the treehouse, you were welcomed by your old book chest you had kept there. You sat on your hand mate bench-bed and opened the chest. You grabbed the first book that caught your attention. "The Hobbit, by J.J.R.Tolkien," You whispered. "That will be nice to read for now," you opened the book and wanted to start reading, but something caught your attention.
A tiny envelope, with the words "You will need this" written on it. You opened the envelope. In it was a little jar, with a silvery glittery powder in it. Then there was also a letter.

INSTRUCTIONS
• Sprinkle some of thee most precious Eldar Powder on your tongue.
• When you start reading, keep the jar of Starlight in your pocket.
• You will not have to sprinkle it on your tongue again, for it's power will last forever.

"Eldar? Where have I heard that name before..." You sprinkled some of the powder on your hand. It looked like it changed colour. "I will never know what will happen if I have never tried.." You said to yourself. You sprinkled a bit onto your tongue. It tasted a bit like cinnamon and sugar, mixed with other spices. The wind blew, and you shivered. You saw your leather jacket hanging on the wall. So that is where you'd left it! You put it on and felt much better, the soft leather hugging your skin gently. You put the little jar in your pocket, and started reading.

Nothing happened.

"Maybe if I read it out loud..?"

"In a hole under the ground there lived a hobbit. not a nasty, dirty, ugly hole, with the end of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with noting to sit down on or to eat at: It was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort. It had a perfect round hole like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. the door-"

There was a strange blue light which shone out of the book and blinded your eyes. A second later, you were gone.

Chapter Text

You woke up with a strange feeling. You looked around and knew exactly where you were. In the middle of fucking nowhere.

"I am sure I'll soon find out what this place is.." You had landed in a different, dense forest. You sat still in the dead leaves for a while, processing what just had happened. "...Did I land in the book?" you wondered. Suddenly, you heard a noise. You quickly stood up and grabbed a stick. You slowly moved to the direction of the sound.
"Who are you?" The voice made you jump. In front of you was a rather strange looking... human. He was standing on what appeared to be a sled lead by rabbits.
"Is that bird poo on your face?" You asked. It looked like the poor guy forgot that there were things such as washing and taking care of one's self.
"Well, yes of course!" The man whistled and two little sparrows came flying towards him. He lifted his hat and they sat on his hair, which was transformed into a nest. "But you didn't answer my question. Who are you?"
"I am (y/n)," you said. "Who might you be?"
"I am Radagast the Brown," the man said. "Are you supposed to be somewhere? You look lost to me,"
"You looked right," You said. Radagast? That name rung a faint bell.. "I don't know where I am,"
"All right then, hop on," Radagast made space for you on his rabbit sled. "I'll bring you to someone who can help you more than I can,"
"Who said I needed-" You were cut off by the sled bouncing over various bumps. For a sled pulled by rabbits, the thing was going damn fast.
Radagast was not really a talker, so you were quiet most of the way. You organised your thoughts. If you were right about that you had landed in the book The Hobbit, then the best way to stay save was probably looking for Gandalf. He'd probably know what to do.
"There we are!" The sled jerked to a sudden stop. "The man you wished to find is around that hill,"
You jumped off. "But I didn't wish to find anyone-" You watched as Radagast went back into the forest.
You were in an open field, with some willows and here and there some small ponds. You wandered a little, walking in the direction of the hill. When you reached and you walked around the hill, you stood in front of one of the biggest willows. Underneath, there was a grey shadow.

"I've been expecting you for some time," The shadow said.
"I am sorry, but do I know you?" You said. The figure stepped out of the shadows. It was Gandalf the Grey.
"I think you do," Gandalf smiled. "I am glad you came, (y/n)."
"How do you know me, and how did you know I would come?" You asked.
"I had a vision about you. You are not an ordinary human being, all might you think so. I called you here because I need your help,"
Gandalf? Needing your help? Was this even real? You pinched yourself just to be sure. "So you are the one that put the powder in my book.. Why would you want my help?"
"I will tell you everything, but lets get inside first. You must be hungry, and thirsty." Gandalf replied. "You will be the first and the last person to see my house,"

When you arrived at Gandalf's house (which looked like you would expect of a wizards home: small, cozy and very, very messy), Gandalf told you.

"When I paid Lord Elrond a visit around 3 months ago, they were working on a special powder that could travel though books. Lord Elrond trusted me with the prototype, and asked me to keep it save. Only I am not a wizard if I don't try things, so here you are. The powder worked." Gandalf paused for a moment. "I need you to help Bilbo Baggins."
"Help him with what?" You asked.
"I need you to convince him, and you know what for," Gandalf replied.
"So you mean that I need him to come on the adventure," You said. Gandalf nodded. "Why me though? Oh well, I have the feeling I will find out soon.." You said to yourself. You turned to Gandalf. "Under one condition; I am going with,"
Gandalf smiled. He knew you were gonna ask that. He had once been in your world, when he was searching for a perfect travelling companion for the hobbit. He had found you, lonely and broken, with only a single friend and a dozen of books. He had recognized you immediately. He knew you were ready for the journey, to find out who you really were.
"Of course," He assured you. "I will write you a short story that will bring you back to your treehouse. Get the things you need and then read this..." He handed you two pieces of paper. "I'll be waiting for you right here!"
You couldn't believe your ears. You were going on an adventure!
"Thank you so much! I will be as quick as lightning! I promise!" You said happily. Gandalf handed you the two pieces of paper to read. You started immediately.
"In a small forest there was a little treehouse. A chest full of books and hand made bench-bed made it very cozy. One day, a girl climbed-"
A bright light shone in Gandalf's eyes. When it was gone, you were gone too.

Chapter Text

You woke up. You were back in your treehouse again. You shook your head. Had it all been a dream? You looked at your hands. No, you were still holding the two pieces of paper Gandalf had given to you. "Time to go and pack my bag!" Then and idea popped into your head. At the stables where you worked, there was a black stallion by the name of Thunder. You always rode Thunder, and always cleaned out his stable first and gave him sweets. He was not liked by many people, because he bit anyone who tried to buy him. The stables were pretty much stuck with him, because no one would buy him and it only cost money keeping him in the stables. Thunder and you got along very well, maybe even the best out of all the people. You loved that horse. "They wouldn't even mind if I 'lend' him for a bit," You thought.

You opened the door of your house. Your parents were currently on a world trip, and they knew that you would cope perfectly well being on your own. Not that they cared. It was time that you got your own house.
"Okay, what should I take with?"

After an hour of packing your bag, you went to the stables where 'your' horse, Thunder, was staying. He greeted you happily.
"Hi boy! Do you want to go on an adventure?" You brushed and saddled him. "Let me get some horse sweets.. done! We can go!" You lead Thunder out his stable. You acted like you were going to train him in one of the arena's. You climbed on Thunder and started reading.

"Once, there was a girl who could travel though books. She needed to get to a wizards house, so she had packed all her stuff in a bag and was trying to find-"
For the third time that day, she disappeared.

You didn't fall asleep this time, sitting on Thunder. You arrived close to the big willow. "Okay, lets find Gandalf! Go!" Thunder ran into a gallop.
Gandalf was waiting outside his house. His eyebrows lifted when he saw Thunder. Surprise.
"Surprised I bought a horse with me?" You asked.
"Yes," Came Gandalf's simple answer. "Come, then we can put him next to mine. What is its name?"
"Thunder. But shouldn't we be going?"
"I first want to know what you brought with you! Put Thunder here, then we can talk."

Once inside Gandalf's house, you showed him the stuff you'd bought.
"My blanket, a jacket, extra socks, a notebook and pen, a knife, medicine, horse sweets, a handkerchief, the book and some.. other private stuff I guess,"
"Did you bring a weapon of some kind? Beside the knife?" Gandalf asked.
"Oh! I almost forgot. I used to do sword fighting before I went to university. I still practice it though, but with a blunt sword. I brought it anyway," You grabbed your scabbard and took the sword out.
"That is a beautiful sword," Gandalf said. "I can sharpen it for you if you like, does it have a name?"
"Oath Keeper. And yes, if you could sharpen it that would be great!" You said.

Gandalf nodded and walked with the sword to his spell room. "She is a fierce girl, that one. The dwarves will like her, that is for sure. Bilbo too, of course! I hope Thorin doesn't mind I brought an unexpected visitor..." he thought. He remembered every dwarf. 13. He had urged Thorin, son of Thrain and the leader of the dwarf company to reclaim their homeland that was taken from them by the mighty dragon Smaug. Thorin had asked him to find someone to help them on their quest, for 13 was an unlucky number. They needed.. a burglar perhaps? Gandalf hoped they wouldn't mind if he had bought a burglar and.. a... well, what were you? He would ask you. Gandalf was awoken from his thoughts by some sounds in the kitchen. The sword! He'd almost forgotten about it. He grabbed a spell. Not the right one.. "Where did I put that thing?" Gandalf looked carefully. There it was. Gandalf quickly spoke the spell, which transformed the blunt blade into a blade so sharp you could shave yourself with it. He hurried out of his spell room, to the kitchen. You were making something that smelled really good.

"Ah, there you are! It was taking a bit long, so I decided to make some hot chocolate! Do you want a cup?" You asked, holding a cup filled with the hot, sweet brown liquid. You handed Gandalf the cup.
"Thank you," Gandalf said. "Here is your sword, but be careful, it is very very sharp," He tasted some of the 'Hot chocolate' as she called it. Gandalf smiled, and remembered the question he wanted to ask you. "You have read that I want Bilbo Baggins as a burglar, right?" He said, referring to the book. You nodded. "So when I am going to introduce you to Thorin, what do I say?
You frowned. "I study to be a vet," You said. "So you could possibly say I am a doctor? I have some medicine too, so.."

"Good. Yes, that could work. I am going to bring you to Bilbo now, You have 4 days to prepare him for when the adventure starts, meaning when I ask him. That is the day I will inform the others. Is that okay?" Gandalf looked at you. Your eyes shone with delight.
"I am ready!" You said. Gandalf smiled.

Chapter Text

Bilbo Baggins was just making tea when there was a knock on the door.
"who could that be?" He wondered. "I didn't invite anyone for tea, did I?" he said to himself as he opened the door. There, on the doorstep, stood a lady with a friendly face and long, brown hair. Bilbo noticed her shoes. Not a hobbit. She was carrying a bag that seemed just a bit small for a woman her age, and she was wearing dark brown leather jacket that matched the colour of her eyes. She was about more then a foot taller than Bilbo.
"Good afternoon!" Bilbo greeted you happily.
"Good afternoon," You said back. "You might wonder who I am. I am (y/n), a human from a faraway land, but that is not important. What is important, is you. You must be Bilbo Baggins,"
"Yes, th- that's me! Is there something wrong? Has something happened?" Bilbo said, sounding worried.
"There is nothing wrong," you assured him. "But there is something I need to tell you,"
"Come inside!" Bilbo said, noticing you were still standing in the doorstep. "You look very tired. In fact, I just made some tea,"
You followed him inside, careful not to bang your head on the hobbit ceiling. Bilbo, it seemed, or hobbits in general, loved to have visitors.
"You can put your bag here!" He said, pointing to a small bench. He poured you some tea.
"I will, thanks," You said while carefully placing your bag on the bench, praying that it would not collapse under its weight. You grabbed the book and returned to Bilbo, who sat down at the kitchen table.
"So, you are from far away, you said? Where from? If you don't mind telling, of course," Bilbo asked.
"Eh, well one could say that I am from a different planet to yours, but that is very hard to explain. To make a long story short, I came to your world by reading this book" You showed him the book. "Its your story. It is written about you,"
Bilbo took the book and looked at it. "The hobbit by J.J.R.Tolkien.. This book is about me? There is more behind this, isn't there. Can you tell me?"
You nodded and decided to tell the story from the beginning; from the fight with Sophie till the end. You told him everything, except..
"I can't believe it all happened today," You said. "But here is the thing. Gandalf wants me and you to be in Thorin's company. You as a burglar and me as a doctor. I know you don't like adventures, but..." you fell silent.
"But what?" Bilbo asked. He was very interested now, even if he didn't quite like adventures.
"If you agree to come along, Gandalf asked me to teach you the basic skills," You looked at him. Was it just you or was he blushing?
"I don't know," he said. "I cannot promise you that I'll go,"
"Oh, but you will. The question is if you want fighting lessons," You said. "When we go, I'll try to help you as much as possible when there is danger,"
"Can you promise to keep me save?" He asked you.
You thought about that. "I'll try. Even if I risk my own life, I will try."
Bilbo looked at you. Were you serious? "Why?" he asked.
You stood up. "Perhaps because you are my favourite character in the book? I don't know,"
Bilbo looked at her and smiled. "Thank you. Can I offer you a place to sleep for the night? If you are going to teach me how to defend my self, you might as well stay here,"
"Thank you, if that is all right," You replied. Inside, you were going crazy. You were in Bilbo Baggins' house!

Bilbo had shown you your room and now he needed time to let it all sink in. He barely knew you, and it was all so strange.. he liked you though. He could see you had a kind heart..
Bilbo sighed. Tomorrow would be his first fighting lesson. He didn't know what to think about it. He sniffed the air. He smelled something, coming from the kitchen. He got up to look.

You looked up when he entered the kitchen.
"What are you making?" Bilbo asked you.
"Dinner! Can you set the table for me, please?" You answered.
"Yes of course!,"
When the food was ready, you told him what it was.
"Its chicken-noodle soup," You said.
"A what?" He laughed. He had never heard of such a thing.
You smiled. "Chicken-noodle soup. It has chicken, and noodles, those wormy thingies. Try it!"
Bilbo tried it. He looked up at you and smiled. "Its delicious!"
"I am glad you like it," You said.

After dinner you chatted for a while, about the training and other things.

"Sleep well! Tomorrow is a big day," You said before you went to your room.
"Goodnight!" Bilbo replied.
That night he dreamed about dwarves.

Chapter Text

Bilbo woke up. He stretched and yawned.

"Wake up! The sun is shining! Time for your lessons!" You said, leaning against the door post. "I brought you some coffee. There is already sugar in it,"
Bilbo blinked. "What is coffee?" He mumbled, not fully awake yet.
"Just drink it! It wakes you up. I'll be outside waiting for you,"
"But.." it was the only thing he could say, for you were already gone. "This does help me wake up," Bilbo said after taking a sip of the coffee. "Let me go and see what (y/n) is doing," he said as he jumped up.

You were outside practising with your sword. You were trying to slice the dead leaves that fell from the trees in half. Bilbo was watching you.
"How am I supposed to learn that?" He said to himself. It looked very difficult, for you were practising the harder moves.
You stopped practising and walked to Bilbo. You saw the worry on his face. "Don't worry, I am only going to teach you the basic skills," You assured him. "It is very easy and fun to learn. I'll help you with everything,"
"Ok- okay," Bilbo said.

After an hour of swordfighting, you and Bilbo had breakfast together.
"So," Bilbo said. "You say that 13 dwarves will come to my house, and most of them will underestimate me?"
"Yes. Don't take it personally, they are dwarves. Dwarves don't trust someone they don't know," You said. "Thorin, the leader of the dwarves will try to talk you down. Again, nothing personal. Dwarf issues," You smiled. "If you feel uncomfortable in any way you must come to me,"
Bilbo nodded. "Thank you,"

The next three days you taught Bilbo how to read elvish (which you learned by once following an online course), taught him how to handle a sword, and you taught him a bit about the dwarven history. On the fourth day you instructed him to go outside and wait for Gandalf to arrive, while you waited restlessly in your room.
"I hope it will go smoother than in the book," You said to yourself. "Oh, I hope so..." at that moment she heard the door open and close. She swung the door of her room open to see what had happened and..

You hit Bilbo.
In the face.
With your door.

"Oh my god I am so so sorry!" You could just grab Bilbo before he hit the floor. Bilbo rubbed his forehead. There was a small bump appearing on his head.
"Thanks for saving me from falling," Bilbo said.
"Thank me? I just hit you with the door!" You replied.
"You didn't do it on purpose," Bilbo smiled. "And otherwise I would've had two bruises!"
You laughed. "Yeah, I guess. I am still sorry though,"
"Don't be, its not the first time it happened to me," He said. "And anyway, there are guests coming tonight. We better get ready," He winked at you.
"Adventure, here we come!" You smiled.

Chapter Text

When you were just done putting the last foods on the table, you and Bilbo heard a knock on the door.
"That was done just in time," You sighed happily. "Come on, lets let our first guest in,"
You walked to the door, and Bilbo opened it. In the entrance stood a bald dwarf with a tattooed head and a full beard.
"Dwalin. At your service." The dwarf said.
"(y/n), at yours," You replied. You nudged Bilbo to do the same.
"Where is the food? Here, keep this safe for me," Dwalin said while handing Bilbo his huge axe.
"You show him to the food, I'll take care of that.." You said while looking at the axe, "..and I'll do the door."
Bilbo nodded, nearly falling over from the weight. You quickly took the weapon from him.
"Go quickly," You said. You looked for a place to put the axe. When you'd just put the axe down, there was another knock on the door.

"That was quick," You muttered as you opened the door. There, in front of you, was a dwarf with a large, white beard that flicked up in the ends. He was not as tall as Dwalin.
"Balin, at your service," The dwarf said happily when he bowed to you. Damn. You'd forgotten that all the dwarven names rhymed... that was going to be fun remembering all of them. "Have I seen you before? Your face looks very familiar..." Balin continued.
"I think that would be quite impossible," You replied. "(y/n), at your service." There were some noises to be heard from the kitchen.
"So I guess I am not the first, then," Balin smiled as he entered. He handed you a sword that had a funny thing at the end, like it was a sword crossed with an axe. It looked very strong, and was very heavy. Balin headed to the kitchen.
"Dwalin, Balin, how am I going to remember who is who? Just now Stalin will come prancing through the door," You mumbled.

You sat down on the floor, waiting for the next guest. You heard footsteps coming your way, and Bilbo sat down next to you.
"They're ruining the pantry," Bilbo said sadly.
"Oh, I'm sorry," You squeezed his hand. You didn't want him to feel sad. You sat like that for a while, hand in hand, until another knock on the door caused you to let go of his hand.
"Damn those dwarfs," You thought. You got up and opened the door. In front of you stood two very attractive dwarves.
You were guessing that they were around your age, or maybe a bit older. The one was brunette and had nearly no beard: just a little fluff. The slightly smaller one next to the brunette, who was most likely his brother, was blonde and had a slightly longer beard and a cute braided moustache. They bowed at exactly the same time.
"Fili and Kili, at your service," They said simultaneously. Now you didn't know who was who.
"(y/n), at yours," You said for the third time that day. They handed you a sword and a bow and arrow.
"He will lead you to the food," You said, giving a small nod to Bilbo. Bilbo lead them to the table, where Balin and Dwalin were very busy with putting even more on the table then there already was: His pantry was nearly empty.
He noticed that Fili (Or Kili? He didn't know) turned around in your direction, nudging his brother and whispering something in his ear. The other shrugged his shoulders, looking sad when his brother looked away. He almost looked... Heartbroken. Bilbo wondered what was wrong, but then he saw the way the brown haired dwarf looked at his brother. Bilbo smiled sadly, and turned towards you.

Deep inside him he hoped it would work out for the dwarf, for he had known how the dwarf felt.

Chapter Text

There was another knock on the door. "Which of them would that be?" You thought. So far you only had 4 of the 13 dwarves- and both two pairs were brothers. You wanted to open the door, but it seemed that it was stuck. with all your might you pulled at the handle, causing the door to fly open and letting 8 dwarves tumble inside. Gandalf stood behind them, laughing. The dwarves quickly introduced themselves and said "At your service!" before looking for the food.
"Oh god, more rhyming names," You grumbled. You counted the new dwarves on your fingers. "So, lets see.. there's Ori, Dori and Nori, all brothers.. Couldn't the mother think of some more original names? Then we have Bifur, Bofur and Bombur.. Bifur is the cousin of Bofur and Bombur, if I recall correctly," You muttered. "And then there still was Oin and Gloin, also brothers..." You looked around. "It appears that we have one dwarf missing,"
"He is late, is all. He travelled North to a meeting of our kin. He will come," Dwalin stood at the doorpost, the havoc of dwarves expanding the table of food behind him. You nodded, wondering what Thorin Oakenshield would look like. So far, you were very pleased to see that dwarves were not short and ugly, like the human world had portrayed them. "I have to draw them," You thought. "So I can always remember them,"
"You think a lot," Dwalin observed. "Tell me, where do you come from? You are certainly not from here,"
You smiled a little. "Far away from here," You said. "And you?"
"I was born in Erebor, the mightiest dwarven kingdom that ever stood standing..." Dwalin looked into the distance. "Everything was glorious. The halls. The mines. The rooms. Even the majestic royal bathrooms," You chuckled, with Dwalin joining you. "And then the most glorious thing in Middle Earth: the Arkenstone,"
You'd read about the arkenstone. That piece of mineral was the reason Bilbo was needed.

"The skill of the dwarves was unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire. Ever they delved deeper, down into the dark. And that is where they found it. The heart of the mountain. The Arkenstone. Thror, Thoring grandfather, took it as a sign, a sign that his his right to rule was divine..." You wisphered. "The king's jewel,"
"That is right," Dwalin said. "It was said that it captured all the universe's power, and that the man who owned it would live forever.." Dwalin thought back at that gruesome battle at the Mines of Moria, where Thror was brutally killed by Azog the Defiler.
"You will reclaim it," You assured him.
Dwalin smiled sadly. "Aye, I hope so."

They were disturbed by the sound of Bilbo quarrelling with some dwarves in the pantry. Dwalin looked behind him. "You better go and help your little friend. He is in need of some," He chuckled. You thanked him and walked into the kitchen.

"No, no, that’s Grandpa Mungo's chair! No, I’m sorry, you’ll have to take it back please. Take it back...It’s antique, not for sitting on! Thank you! That’s a book, not a coaster. Put that map down, thank you." Bilbo said. The dwarves were invading his house and shifting everything around.
"Need any help?" You asked. Bilbo looked up.
"Where have you been? I was busy trying to convince these nut-heads that some things are not for sitting on!"
"Bombur, catch!" The dwarfs were all sitting around the table. They had taken all the food out of the pantry- which now lay displayed on the table, ready to be eaten. Bofur threw an egg at Bombur, who caught it with its mouth and swallowed it whole.
"Ugh, honestly," Bilbo looked away while the dwarves attacked the food. You found it quite amusing, watching the dwarves devour everything that was on their plate and nearly the plate itself.
"Who wants an ale? There you go," Fili was walking on the table, handing out ales.

Dwalin poured his ale into Oin’s hearing trumpet. As Oin spluttered in anger, everyone else laughed. Oin put his hearing trumpet to his mouth and blowed the ale out of it, making it squeal.
Someone counted. “One!...Two!” Then all the dwarves went quiet and began drinking their ale together. They were incredibly messy. Ale fell all over their faces and ran down their beards. When they were finished drinking, they began burping; Ori, the one who looked the youngest of the company, let out the biggest burp. The dwarves laughed. Bilbo looked away in disgust.
"I don't know if I can do this," He whispered to you. "Where are their manners?"
"They are dwarves, its their tradition," You whisper back. You felt sorry for Bilbo, but at the same time you found it priceless, watching these dwarves enjoy themselves, for you knew what adventure and dangers would come to them.

Chapter Text

After the meal, some of the dwarves were roaming about - they had never been in a hobbit hole before. Bofur was examining one of Bilbo's doily's.
"How are you supposed to dry anything with this? T's got holes in them," Bofur asked.
“Excuse me, that is a doily, not a dishcloth!” Bilbo said, grabbing the doily.
“But it’s full of holes!” Bofur exclaimed. "What are you supposed to do with that?"
“It’s supposed to look like that, it’s crochet. You place things on top of it,” Bilbo explained.
"Then what is the point of it?" Bofur asked.
"It makes it look ni.. You know what? Never mind," Bilbo walked away, muttering in himself. “Bebother and confusticate these dwarves!”
“My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?” Gandalf walked after him.
“What’s the matter? I’m surrounded by dwarves. I know what they are doing here, but I don't see any reason why they have to be so...” Bilbo looked for the right word. "..rude,"
“Oh, they’re quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them," Gandalf assured him.
"I don’t want to get used to them. The state of my kitchen! There’s mud trod into the carpet, they’ve pillaged the pantry. I’m not even going to tell you what they’ve done in the bathroom; they’ve all but destroyed the plumbing. I don’t understand why I am the one that needs to go with! There are so many other hobbits in the Shire. Why me?” Bilbo said, on the brink of tears.
“Excuse me. I’m sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?” Ori walked towards them, his plate in his hands. You chuckled softly. Poor, poor Bilbo. Hobbits were definitely not made for adventure. You sighed and sat down next to Bofur, who gave you a friendly glance.
“Here you go, Ori, give it to me.” Fili said. Fili took the plate from Ori and threw it smoothly to Kili, who caught it and threw it behind his back to Bifur, who was standing at the sink in the kitchen.
"Wow," You said. It looked like they'd done it many times before.
Bifur caught it behind his back, without even looking at it. Kili, Fili, and other dwarves began throwing the other plates, bowls, and utensils to each other, eventually throwing them to the sink to be washed. As the dishware flew through the air, Gandalf ducked to avoid getting hit.

"Excuse me, that’s my mother’s West Farthing crockery, it’s over a hundred years old!" Bilbo exclaimed, but nobody listened. He looked at you, helpless. In the meantime, the dwarves who were still at the table were making a beat with their knifes and forks.
Bilbo was getting very distraught. “And can- can you not do that? You’ll blunt them!”
“Ooh, d’hear that, lads? He says we’ll blunt the knives.” Bofur chuckled.

Kili began singing a song; The song that J.R.R.Tolkien wrote in his book. You found it unbelievable, hearing the words have a tune and not just reading them. The other dwarves joined him, as they continued throwing the dishware.

“Blunt the knives, bend the forks
Smash the bottles and burn the corks
Chip the glasses and crack the plates
That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Cut the cloth and tread on the fat
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat
Pour the milk on the pantry floor
Splash the wine on every door
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl
Pound them up with a thumping pole
When you’ve finished, if any are whole
Send them down the hall to roll ...

That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!”

You laughed with the dwarves, and felt happy. You hadn't felt happy like this in a long time. Bilbo looked so cute, huffed up in anger, until he saw the dishes stacked neatly and cleanly. He managed a little smile as he looked at you.

Suddenly, there were three heavy knocks on the door. You got up, and the company fell silent.

"He is here," Gandalf said slowly. He also stood up, and nodded to you. You followed him to the door, with Bilbo on your heels.
You open the door, and looked in the face of a prince. A faint bell of recognition rang in your head.
Thorin Oakenshield looked like a warrior- he had a strong, slim but stout build. His raven black hair touched with silver streaks of grey lay over his broad shoulders. His dark blue eyes shone from the stars that lit the sky.

“Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. Wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.” Thorin spoke with a deep, thoughtful voice.
“Mark? There’s no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!” Bilbo said, looking confused.
“There is a mark; I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins, (y/n), allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.”
“So, this is the Hobbit, but what is she?" Thorin asked, looking at you.
"Someone of great importance," Gandalf replied.
Great importance? You? You were confused. That wasn't part of the plan. Since when were you so important?
"Tell me, Mr. Baggins, (y/n), have you done much fighting?” Thorin asked you.
“Pardon me?” Bilbo asked.
“Axe or sword? What’s your weapon of choice?” Thorin asked impatiently.
“Well, I have some skill at Conkers, but I fail to see why that’s relev- ouch!”
You nudged Bilbo in the ribs. "Sword," You said. "Both of us, although he is still learning,"
Thorin nodded. "I see." With that, he turned around and walked to the (now clean) table.

"I am sorry, that was stupid of me. My mind just blanked out," Bilbo whispered to you.
"Don't worry about it," You smiled. "Do you still think you can do it?" You asked with a worried look on your face. "You look a bit pale,"
"I'll be fine with your help," He looked at you and chuckled. "I might be going on an adventure! What will my neighbours think of that?"
"I don't care what your neighbours think, as long as you are coming with us!" you said. "This is only the start,"

Chapter Text

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?” Balin asked Thorin when they all sat around the table. Thorin was given soup and bread.
“Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms.” Thorin replied.
“What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?” Dwalin asked impatiently.
Thorin was silent for a while. “They will not come." The dwarves murmured in disappointment. “They say this quest is ours, and ours alone.” Thorin continued.
“Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light.” Gandalf asked. You passed Bilbo one of the candles that stood close to you. Gaandalf took out a small map, showing a big mountain with a red dragon in the middle. “Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak.” Gandalf spoke.
“The Lonely Mountain.” You whispered.
“Aye. Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time.” Gloin said.
“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.” Bilbo, hearing “the beast,” looked concerned. “Uh, What beast?” Oops. You knew you'd forgotten to tell him something..
“Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne firebreather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks, extremely fond of precious metals..”
"That," You thought, "Is really, really not helpful,"
“Yes, I know what a dragon is.” Bilbo looked at you accusingly.
"That's it then. There is no way that we can slay a dragon with just 13 dwarves, a wizard, a hobbit and a.." Kili paused.
"Human," You filled in for him.
"Human," Kili continued.
Comments were thrown into the air.
"He is right," Balin nodded.
"We're never going to get out of this alive," Dori said.
"Why are we even doing this?" Oin asked.

“Shazara!" Thorin stood up. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!"
All the dwarves cheered. Bilbo lifted his eyebrow at you. "Du Bekâr means 'to arms'" You whispered to him.
"you forget: The front gate is sealed. there is no way into the mountain," Balin said.
"There is always someone to kill the mood," You thought.
"That is not entirely true," Gandalf took an interesting looking key out of his pocket. "This was given to me by your father, thrain, for save keeping. These runes," Gandalf said, pointing at the map. "..Speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, but I have not the skill to find it, but there are others in Middle earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done.”

"..Is that where I come in?" Bilbo asked. Gandalf nodded. He looked at Bilbo, and saw the fright in his eyes. "It will be all right, I know you can do it," He assured him.
"I am not so certain," Thorin said. "He looks like he hasn't stolen a thing in his life,"
"I haven't," Replied Bilbo. "That is why it's a mystery to me why you want me as your burglar,"
"Me too," Thorin replied. "I didn't choose you, Gandalf did,"
“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." Gandalf said, defending his choice.
"And the girl? Why is she here?" Thorin asked, looking at you.
"She is here because she is someone of great importance, and we need her," Gandalf replied. "An importance so great she doesn't even remember; but she will find out soon."
You were even more confused then you already were. What great importance? You didn't know.
"Very well then. We do it your way. Balin, give them the contract," Thorin ordered.
Balin handed you a contract which was nearly as long as you. "Ah, great. They've written the terms and conditions on here," You chuckled. You glanced at it, not bother reading all of it and signed. You then gave it to Bilbo, who looked a bit pale.
"Are you all right?" You asked.
"I don't know if I can do this," Bilbo said. You smiled at him. "Of course you can," You said.
While Bilbo was reading through the contract, carefully reading the T's and C's, Thorin leaned to Gandalf.
"I cannot guarantee you their savety," Thorin whispered to Gandalf.
"Understood," Gandalf replied.
"Nor will I be responsible for their fate," Thorin continued.
Gandalf looked at you and Bilbo and then nodded. "Agreed,"

“Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fifteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair. Eh, Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations ... evisceration ... incineration?”
Incineration? Didn't that mean to burn to ashes? "Maybe I should've read the conditions.." You murmured. “Oh, aye, he’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye.” Bofur said. You rolled your eyes. Him again. He really wasn't helping.
Bilbo looked a little breathless. “What?”
“You all right, laddie?” Balin asked.
“Uh, yeah...Feel a bit faint.” Bilbo said.
He looked like he was about to a) cry, b) vomit c) faint. You thought the latter.
“Think furnace with wings.” Bofur helpfully added.
“Air, I need air.” Bilbo said. You looked at him, concerned.
“Flash of light, searing pain, then Poof! you’re nothing more than a pile of ash.” Bofur continued. You couldn't contain yourself any longer. "Could you PLEASE shut up? He looks like he is about to have a fit for God's sake!" You said.
Bilbo breathed heavily, trying to compose himself while looking at you. “Hmmm. Nope.” He said just before he fainted. You could just catch him before he hit the ground. You stared accusingly at Bofur.
"Thanks. That is just what we needed," You said to Bofur, voice dripping with sarcasm.
You lifted Bilbo off the floor, and bought him to his room.

Chapter Text

"I am sure of it that I have seen her before," Balin said after you had left to put Bilbo in his bed. Gandalf had gone after them, to check up on Bilbo. "Her voice, actions, looks.. Why are they so familiar?"
"She reminds me of our mother," Fili said.
"I was thinking the same thing. She looks a lot like Dís, even a bit like Kili," Bofur added.
They were all silent for a moment.
"Why is she even here? She is a human, but she is certainly not from Minas Tirith or Rohan," Gloin said. "It almost seems like she is from another world,"
Most dwarves nodded their heads in agreement.
"I was talking to her earlier. I asked where she came from, and she answered with 'Far away'. She certainly doesn't want us to know," Dwalin said.
"I saw her sword, when I was looking for the restroom," Ori said. "It was lying on her bed, beautifully crafted and very very sharp,"
"Valyrian steel, if you must know," You walked into the room. "There is no stronger steel known to man,"
"Can you fight with it?" Thorin asked.
"Yeah," You said. "I enjoy fighting with it, only I have never killed anything,"
"That will change soon," Thorin said.

Shortly after they went to the living room where Gloin had lit the fireplace. Thorin began to hum a melody- A melody that took you back to your childhood. Someone had sung it for you once, only you didn't remember who. You hummed along. You felt strangely home, sitting between the dwarves.
Thorin began to sing, his deep voice vibrating through the hall.

“Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old.
We must away ere break of day
To find our longforgotten 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.”

When the song was over, they all stayed silent as they scattered away. Left alone, your thoughts drifted to Bilbo. Was he awake yet? You just wanted to go to check up on him when Fili came to you, looking worried.
"I can't find Kili anywhere, could you please help me? You know this house better then I do, he might be lost..please?"
You saw the fright and sadness in his eyes. "Of course I'll help you find your brother, why don't you look outside? Then I'll know where to find you," You said.
"Yes I will, thank you," Fili said before leaving hurriedly.
"The only possible explanation of why Kili is lost is probably because he is hiding from Fili. Those two are always together," You thought. "But why?" You stood up and went looking for him.

You found Kili in the far corner of the wine cellar, crying. He didn't hear you approach him, but he didn't even look up when you came to sit next to him. His face was wet with tears. Your mother instinct took over and you stroked Kili's back while whispering calm words to him. You were surprised when he hugged you, throwing his arms over your shoulders and holding you tight. You returned the hug. You sat like that for a while, no words exchanged. When he looked at you you knew, knew why he was hiding from Fili. It was the look of a broken heart, a look you'd seen too often in your own reflection. You saw his fear. His fear to lose Fili and the fear to have him...
This was something more then brotherly love. The look in his eyes nearly made you cry.

"I..I.." Kili sobbed again. "I woke up one morning," He sniffed. You held him tight. "I woke up.. and I saw Fili lying on his bed on the other side of the- the room," Kili inhaled deeply. Why was he telling you this? No one knew but his mother. But when he looked in your eyes he saw that you knew too, and understood.
"And?" You urged him to go on.
"There was this ache in my heart. I didn't want it to happen. It couldn't happen, it shouldn't happen. But it happened on that day. I ran out of the room, outside. I couldn't believe I'd fallen for my own brother, it felt wrong and right at the same time.. Of course my mum had followed me, and when I told her what had happened, she said 'Love and Endure'." Kili looked you in the eye.
"I have endured it for 4 years now, and now I could loose him forever on this quest..." He began to sob again.
"Oh Kili..." You hugged him tightly. "I will help you find a way, I promise," You heard a soft "Thank you," on your shoulder.
"Fili was looking for you," You said. "He asked me to look for you inside the house, because he didn't know the way," You could feel Kili smile. "He went looking outside for you, you better go," You said, breaking the embrace.
Kili nodded. "Will you promise not to tell anyone?" He asked.
You smiled. "I promise," You said. "Go now, I have to go and see if Bilbo is doing all right," you paused. "If you ever need my help.. I'll be there,"
"Thank you so much!" Kili smiled as he went in search for Fili.

Chapter Text

Bilbo was sitting in his armchair when you walked in. Gandalf was sitting opposite him.
"Are you all right?" You asked Bilbo. He nodded.
"Yes, I am fine. I just need to sit quietly for a moment," He answered, smiling weakly.
"You have been sitting quietly for far too long! Tell me; when did doilies and your mother’s dishes become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who always was running off in search of elves and the woods, who’d stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young Hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps; it’s out there.” Gandalf said. He seemed quite annoyed.
You looked at Bilbo. "So you're not coming?"
Bilbo shook his head. "(y/n), I.."
Gandalf looked at you and you understood. You turned around and left the room.

Fresh air, I need fresh air, you thought. You walked outside where you took some deep breaths. You knew Bilbo wasn't gonna go untill the last second, but the question was, what were you going to do? Go with the dwarfs? Stay with Bilbo? You didn't know.
"Hey (y/n), what is the matter?"
You looked up. The voice came from above you. In one of the trees, you could see two faces looking down at you. You smiled, and begun to climb the tree to sit next to Fili and Kili.
"Nothing is wrong, I just have to decide to say with Bilbo or come with with you guys," You said.
"What? Is Bilbo not coming with?" Fili asked.
"I think he might only go at the last minute," You replied. "But I don't know if I should stay with him or go with you,"
"Come with us, it will be fun," Kili said.
You smiled. "Okay, cool!" You said. "Thanks,"
They were silent. After a while, Kili finally spoke. "We have to tell you something,"
Fili looked at his brother with big eyes. "But Kili-"
Kili turned to his brother. "Don't worry, she is the one who convinced me to finally tell you,"
You looked at both dwarves. Then a huge smile spread across your face. "Oh! I am so happy for you!" You said, trying to hug them both and not fall out the tree. Fili and Kili both looked at each other and smiled.
"Do you want to see the ponies?" Fili asked.
You smiled. "Sure!"
You climbed down the tree and followed Fili and Kili to the ponies.
"There they are," Fili said, pointing to an open spot in the forest. You walked closer. There were 2 horses, you saw, and 15 ponies. Thunder trotted to the hand made fence when he saw you approaching.
"Thunder!" You exclaimed. You didn't know your horse would be here. You stroked his head. "Hello boy,"
"Is that your horse?" Fili and Kili asked in amazement.
"Yes, it is," You nodded. "His name is Thunder! He is very friendly, if you are willing to be friends with him."
"Its not fair! You are only a little bit taller then us, and you get one of the biggest horses!" Kili said.
"If 'a little taller' meaned a foot taller, then yeah," You thought. You laughed. "When do we ride?" You asked.
"We ride at dawn, in a view hours. Have you packed your bags yet?" Fili asked.
"Yessno.." You said. "I'd better do that soon,"
Fili laughed. "You better do that now!"
You smiled. "You're right. See you at dawn, Thunder!" You said while rubbing his head. "See you later, guys!"
"Bye," Fili and Kili said at the same time.

When you looked back one last time before going inside, you saw that they were already embraced. You smiled sadly, for you knew the end of their story. "But I can change that!" you thought. "I can warn them, or even save them,"
"Can ye close the door? It's cold," A voice said. Only now you noticed that you were standing in the doorstep, looking at absolutely nothing. You closed the door and looked for the person who had spoken. You saw Bofur lying in the corner, with his head on his hat. He was staring at you.
"Don't you want to sleep on a couch or something?" You asked.
"All occupied," He said.
"That's not true. Come, I'll show you one out of many," You held out your hand to pull Bofur up. You showed him one of the secret uper rooms, where you liked to sit a lot. There you found your hobbit book, which you took with.
"Thank ye for showing me," Bofur said.
"No problem," You smiled. "Sleep well," You said as you closed the door behind you. You went as quietly as you could to your room. Thankfully you had locked the door, for otherwise dwarves would be sleeping in it.
You looked around. You had not much to pack, so you thought it would be a good idea to take a shower.

After you had showered, braided and plaited your hair, you looked on your little pocket watch. "5 hours before dawn," you yawned. "I better set my alarm,"
You were just about to blow out your candle when there was a soft knock on your door. You sighed. "Come in," You grumbled. Bilbo came in silently and closed the door behind him.
"I can explain-" He started as he sat down on your bed.
"There is nothing to explain," You said while patting the empty spot next to you. "I am guessing that your bed is occupied?" You asked when he lay down. You blew out the candle.
"Yes, by Balin and Ori,." Bilbo was silent for a while. "Are you not angry at me for not going?"
"No, why should I be angry at you for making your own decisions? I understand completely why you don't want to go, don't worry," You said.
"And why are you doing it? Going, I mean," Bilbo asked.
You sighed, and turned to face him. "Some of them die in the book," You finally said. You lay in silence for a while.
"I am going to miss you," Bilbo broke the silence. You chuckled softly.
"You are only allowed to miss me when I am dead. I will still be seeing you for some time,"
You hugged him, and you both fell asleep.

Chapter Text

You woke up from something buzzing in your pocket. Your alarm clock. You slowly stepped out of bed, trying not to wake Bilbo. You dubble checked your bag and went outside.It was still a bit before dawn, so you were the first one to be outside.
Nearly the first one.
You saw Fili and Kili only when you nearly tripped over them- they were lying in the tall grass, embraced. You woke them up.
"Did you sleep well?" You asked when they opened their eyes. Fili stretched and yawned. Kili sat up, immediately looking around.
"The others? Did they.." Kili asked. You shook your head.
"Don't worry, I am the first one outside, it seems," You said. You saw Thunder and walked towards him. "Hi boy! Here is your breakfast!" You took two carrots out of your pocket and gave it to him. Thunder munched on them happily. "Lets get you ready to go," You patted him on the neck, and turned to Fili. "Where are the saddles?" You asked.
"Between those trees," Fili pointed. "I'll come and help you,"

When you were nearly done brushing and saddling the ponies, Thorin walked outside. When he saw you, his eyebrows lifted.
"You are early," Thorin remarked. "Kili, wake the others," Kili nodded and went inside. Thorin helped you finish saddling the ponies, and putting the luggage on their backs. Kili came back.
"The halfling is asleep," Kili said.
"What is a halfling?" You asked Fili.
"A hobbit," He answered.
"He doesn't belong to us. Come, we're leaving," Thorin said. Fili saw you looking at Bilbo's house, expecting the hobbit to run out of there any second. He heard you sigh.
"Will you be all right?" He asked you. You looked him. Your eyes reminded him of Kili's.
"Yeah, I'll be fine, he'll come running, you'll see," You said as you climbed on Thunder.

Running he came.

Bilbo didn't know where he was when he woke up- (Perhaps it was because he had been having a really good dream) Until he realized he was alone. All your things were gone. Bilbo sighed, and climbed out of bed. Everything was cleaned up, and if he didn't know better then he would've thought none of it ever happened. He went to the living room. Even there everything was spotless and cleaned up. Except for one thing.
The contract.
Bilbo stared at it for a good 5 minutes until he walked closer to it. Then he noticed something else. A letter.

"Dear Bilbo," He read.
"I just wanted to say thank you for your generosity. It was an honour to have met you, and you are definitely the kindest hobbit I've ever met. I am going now, on the quest. I need to save them, and I'll do anything to protect them. I hope, that after this quest is over, I will have the privilege of meeting you once again. If I survive.
All the best,
(y/n)."

Bilbo read the letter again. "..If I survive.." No. He shook his head. You were going to survive, you had to. He looked at the contract again. "Damn that woman," He thought.

"Wait! WAIT!"

You turned Thunder around. The company stopped.
"I signed it! I signed the contract!" Bilbo came running towards them, the contract in his hands. He handed it to Balin.
“Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.” Balin said, smiling. You glanced at Thorin, who didn't look too impressed.
"Give him a pony," Thorin ordered.
“No, no, no, no, thatthat won’t be necessary, thank you, but I-I’m sure I can keep up on foot. I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, you know. I even got as far as Frogmorton once-WAGH!” Bilbo was lifted off his feet by Fili and Kili, who carried him onto a small brown pony, Myrtle. He had never ridden a pony before, and was struggling to stay on.
"Keep your hands like this and sit like you are a bag of potatoes," Bilbo looked up. You were riding next to him on Thunder. You smiled. "I am glad you came," You said.
"I can't believe I am doing this," Bilbo said. "Bilbo Baggins, on an adventure!" He laughed.
"How do you feel?" You asked.
Bilbo thought about that. "I guess I am still fine," He smiled and sneesed. "Ugh," He said. "Horse hair, having a reaction," He felt his pockets for his handkerchief.
"Here," You reached in your bag and gave him yours.
"Thanks," He said, blowing his nose.
"(y/n)? Balin came riding next to you. "Thorin wants to talk with you,"
You looked at where Thorin was riding. He was riding alone, in front of the others. You nodded. "Okay, I'll go," you said as you cantered past the other horses. You slowed down when you reached Thorin.
"Balin said you wanted to speak to me?" You said. Thorin looked at you.
"Can I trust you?" He asked.
"I think so," You said. "I do not entirely trust myself sometimes,"
Thorin smiled at that. That was the first time you had seen him smile. "You remind me of my sister, Dís, the mother of Fili and Kili," He sighed and looked sad. He shook his head.
"What is wrong?" You asked.
"It's.. nothing," Thorin said. You could clearly see that that was a lie. Thorin caught you staring. "You are all but a riddle to me," He said. "Tell me a bit about yourself. Where did you come from, and why are you here?"
"Ehmm," You said. Were you gonna lie or tell the truth? Then again, you had too little knowledge about Middle Earth to make up a good lie.
"I am not from here," You started. "I am from another world, a world in which this world is merely a story, written in a book," You grabbed the book out of your bag. "One day, I decided to read it again, but this time, there was a silvery powder in a jar in the book, that Gandalf had put in there," You paused. "The instructions read that I had to sprinkle some on my tongue, and read the story. I did, and that's how I ended up here,"
Thorin didn't know how to react. He knew Gandalf was a powerful wizard, but this was just going a bit over the top. "So you know what is going to happen?" He asked finally. "Our whole story is written in that book?"
"Yes," You said. "If you ever need any advice, you can ask me,"
Thorin nodded. "Thank you,"
They rode in silence for a while.
"You know why I am going on this quest?" Thorin asked.
"To reclaim your homeland?" You answered.
"That is partly the reason," He said.
"Then what are the other reasons?" You were very curious now.
Thorin sighed. "My brother was slain in battle, long ago, just like my granddad and my sisters husband," He started. "All because the dragon came. I want to avenge them.."
You saw on his face that there was another reason. "I am sorry," You said. "I didn't know you had another brother,"
"Frerin," Thorin said. "In the final conflict of the war, the Battle of Azanulbizar, he was in the first assault of the vanguard that was led by our father, which was thrown back with loss. Frerin and the rest of the vanguard were driven into a wood of great trees near lake Mirrormere..." Thorin paused. "You could imagine what happened next,"
You nodded. You felt sorry for the Durin family, for they had had so many losses.
"Have you ever had children, (y/n)?" Thorin asked. You were surprised by his question. Of course you hadn't!
"No," You answered. "Why the question, if I may ask?"
"I used to have a daughter," Thorin said.
Your mouth dropped open in shock. You hadn't seen this one coming. 'Used to?' Did that mean that she was..
"She vanished, when she was just 3 years old. Gone. Not a trace.." Thorin's voice grew soft. Why was he telling you this? He wondered. He didn't want you to know, but at the same time it felt good, finally taking about it.
You saw something glister in his eye. "Oh Thorin," You said. "I am so so sorry,"
"She was my everything. Till this day, I don't know what happened. I wanted her to see the halls of Erebor, and show her the magnificence of the halls. I will never be able to do that, but it gives me peace to think that she is here, watching me over my quest..." a single tear rolled down his cheek.
"What was her name?" You asked softly.
"Sora," Thorin replied. "Sora Durin,"

Chapter Text

Bilbo had enough. He had been sitting on his pony for hours now, and his bottom began to feel like it was made from wood. Once again he began wondering if going on this adventure had been a wise choice. He just hoped they would go to Rivendell, for he had wanted to go there since he could walk. He looked ahead, where you and Thorin were still talking. Behind him, Fili and Kili were chattering softly.
"Fili! Look what I found in my pocket!" Kili held out his hand. "It's mom's talisman," Kili held out a shiny black stone with an engraving on it. Fili felt in his pocket. He held out the same stone.
"Mom must've put it in there, to remind us of our promise," Fili said. He sighed and looked at the stone. Although he didn't show it, he missed his mom. She had asked him to take care of his brother, and Fili was sure she had asked Kili the same thing. She was scared they would not return, or land in the same fate that had overcome their uncle's daughter. Fili suddenly remembered a memory from long ago, but he turned it away. He felt guilty and hurt, and he did not want to make it worse.
His attempts failed to push the memory away, and he let it go through his mind.

He had been 15 years of dwarven age.

Fili had been walking with the two of them, Kili and Sora. He had told no one that he was taking them for a walk, as he often did so. He was just returning home, when little Kili pointed something out to him. There was a sword in the ground. Fili frowned, wondering who would leave his sword so carelessly. It didn't look like a sword forged by dwarves, nor by elves, orcs or humans. The sword type and look was totally unfamiliar to him. He wondered closer, but found that every time he moved a step closer, the sword would move away from him. When Kili tried it, the sword also moved away. Fili wanted to carry on walking, but then when Sora decided to let go of Fili's hand and walk towards the sword it didn't move away. She reached out to touch the sword, and one second later she was gone. There was no trace of her anywhere.
Unable to process what he had done, that he had lost her and she had vanished: Fili brought Kili home as fast as possible and acted like nothing ever happened. He tried to convince himself that it was not his fault, but he couldn't get the incident out of his head. Why did the sword move away from Kili and him, but not from her?

"Fili, are you okay? You look a bit pale," Kili looked concerned.
Fili smiled. "Don't worry little brother, I'll be fine,"
"Don't call me that!" Kili laughed. "I am taller then you,"
Fili shook his head. "I know, I know," He smiled.

----

"Do you like Bilbo Baggins?" That question was bothering you for a long time now.
Thorin sighed. "I don't see the use of him,"
"And do you see the use of me?" You asked. Thorin looked at you.
"I think so,"
You nodded. "Do you like humans, in general?" You asked.
Thorin thought about that for a moment. "I don't like the way humans love," He said finally.
You lifted your eyebrows at that. "What do you mean?"
"Dwarves love much stronger, compaired to humans. Dwarves can only love once in their whole lifetime," Thorin said.
"Wow," You said. "That must be difficult if they don't love you back," You looked at Fili and Kili.
"It can be very hard," Thorin sighed. "Humans love much more often, that is why their love is weaker,"
"I guess so," You thought about that. "Dwarves only love once..." You wisphered. "My parents were never married," You said.
Thorin looked at you. "How long have they been togeher?"
"It's every time on and off. They fight a lot, and now they are on a world trip together... I hope everything is all right," You smiled. I don't even miss them," You added.
"Do you like them?" Thorin asked.
Your silence said enough.

Chapter Text

When the sun was just about to disappear behind the mountains, you arrived at an old, abandoned farmhouse.
“We’ll camp here for the night. Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them.” Thorin ordered when he got off his pony.
“A farmer and his family used to live here.” Gandalf remarked.
"You knew them?" You asked. You didn't quite like this place. It reminded you of death, for some reason.
Gandalf looked at you and nodded. "Him, his wife and two kids. I wondered what happened to them," Gandalf looked concerned.
“Oin, Gloin. Get a fire going," Thorin said.
“I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley.” Gandalf said, looking around.
“I have told you already, I will not go near that place.” Thorin said sternly.
“Why not? The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice.” Gandalf tried.
“I do not need their advice.” Thorin said. You had no idea dwarves could be so stubborn. You began to unsaddle Thunder.
“We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us.” You heard Gandalf say.
“Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and betrayed my father.” Thorin answered. There was anger in his voice.
“You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past.” Gandalf reminded him. You sighed. You knew there was no hope in arguing with any of the two.
“I did not know that they were yours to keep.” Thorin replied. In the corner of your eye, you saw Gandalf stomp off angrily.
“Everything alright? Gandalf, where are you going?” Bilbo asked. You looked at him.
“To seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense,” Gandalf replied.
“Who’s that?” Bilbo asked.
“Myself, Mr. Baggins! I’ve had enough of dwarves for one day.” Gandalf said angrily, leaving the company. You looked at Thorin confused. Was Gandalf leaving you?

-----

"Hey, do me a favour, bring this to the lads," Bofur handed Bilbo two bowls of stew. Bilbo glanced over at the fire. Ori was showing you some drawings he had made during the ride, and Thorin seemed busy with his map. He sighed.
"She'll have time for ye when ye come back," Bofur winked. Bilbo nodded and walked towards the trees.

"Making any sense of it?" Ori was getting food, and you took a seat next to Thorin who looked confused at the map.
"Not really, no," Thorin answered. "I can't understand why I don't know about this secret passage, as future king I should have known,"
"Maybe Thrain was going to tell you once you were king," You said.
"Maybe," Thorin said. "I don't know. I don't like not knowing,"
You were both silent for a while.
"Any dangers I should know of?" Thorin asked after a while. "What does it say in that book of yours?"
"Ehhm.." You thought of the first danger in the book. Then it hit you. "Oh shit.." You whispered.
"What?" Thorin looked concerned. "What is it?"
"Uncle! Uncle!" Fili came running towards Thorin.
You looked at him. "Trolls,"
"Bilbo," Fili panted. "Trolls have taken Bungo, Daisy, Myrtle and Minty," Fili paused to catch his breath. "They have a camp, not far from here. Bilbo's gone to try and take them back,"
Your head buzzed. In the background, you heard a faint noise of weapons being drawn. "You promised to protect him," A small voice at the back of your head said.
"Mountain trolls are slow and stupid," Thorin told you as he nodded to Fili to lead the way.
"Where is Kili?" You asked when you jogged next to Fili.
"Trying to help Bilbo," He touched your arm. "We'll save them, I promise,"

After two minutes of running Fili gestured to the others. They were close. You could smell the stench of the trolls (a mixture between rotting flesh and vomit- lets not go into detail) from far away.
As silent as you could you and the company sneaked closer. You could hear them now.
" Are there any more of you little fellas `iding where you shouldn’t?” A rough voice said. You could see them, though the bushes. They were holding Bilbo upside down!
“Nope.”Bilbo replied, trying to get loose.
“He’s lying.” Another troll said. There were three of them in total.
“No I’m not!” Bilbo said. He was looking quite desperate.
“Hold his toes over the fire. Make him squeal.” The third troll ordered.
Then, like a small mosquito, Kili ran out of the bushes and hacked in one of their toes.
"Drop him!" He shouted. You looked at Fili.
"Shouldn't we be doing something?" You whispered.
"Wait for the order," Fili whispered back.
"I. Said." Kili paused. "Drop. Him."
The troll flung Bilbo at Kili.
"Du Bekâr!" Thorin shouted.
The company charged out of the bushes, yelling and brandishing their weapons. They began fighting the trolls, hacking, slashing, and hammering their legs. You looked around you, looking for Bilbo. You hacked some troll's legs in the process. The trolls stumbled around, taken by surprise. Your eye fell on Bilbo, on the other side. You ran to him.
"Bilbo! Are you okay?" You asked when you knelt next to the hobbit. You helped him on his feet.
"Thanks," Bilbo said.
"Come, I'll help you get out of here," You said.
"No, we need to save the ponies," He replied. "Do you have a knife on you?"
"I have my sword," You replied. "What for?"
"Come," Bilbo said. Bilbo lead you to the horses. "We need to cut these ropes,"
You lifted your sword and hacked the ropes in one swing. You smiled when the ponies ran out.
"Help!" Bilbo was picked up by the biggest of the trolls. You quickly sprinted away before he could catch you.
"Bilbo!" Kili shouted.
"No!" Thorin stopped him from attacking the trolls.

“Lay down your arms, or we’ll rip his off.”

Chapter Text

You ran through the bushes. Where on earth was Gandalf? He could still do something about this situation.
"Gandalf!" You shouted as loud as you dared. "Gandalf!" You ran down a hill and slipped. "Fuck," You said before you rolled down.

----

"John, what are you doing?" Sherlock was draped over the couch, as usual when he was bored.
"What does it look like?" John was sitting in his armchair, reading a book.
"You are wasting your time. Robin dies in the end," Sherlock answered. John sighed and closed his book. This was the sixteenth time Sherlock had ruined a book for him- John wasn't even going to talk about the movies.
"You are bored. I get it. You haven't had a case in 2 days. But, honestly, do you really have to start ruining books for me again?" John got up and put on his coat. "Anyway, I'll go to the bookshop to see if they have any thriller books Sherlock HASN'T read,"
"Don't forget to bring milk," Sherlock said. He listened to John closing the door before he got up.
He had to do something. Even if was something boring. Sherlock got his phone and texted John.

'Can you bring a book for me? -SH'

He pressed send and went to the kitchen. There was no milk, so he couldn't make tea. He couln't do any experiments either, because the hospital was running low on body parts. Sherlock sighed and went back to the couch to check his phone.

'What genre? -JW'

'Doesn't matter. -SH'

John looked at the message. He was in the local bookshop, standing in front of the thriller section. He had no idea what kind of books the younger man would like.
"He'd probably figure out the murderer in the first 30 pages," John said to himself. He walked further to the back of the store, where the fiction books were located. His eyes fell onto a little book. John picked it up. "The Hobbit, by J.R.R.Tolkien.." He murmured. "That sounds vaguely familiar.." John got two other books for himself and the hobbit book for Sherlock.

"Did you get the milk?" Was the first thing Sherlock asked John when he walked through the door.
"Yes, Mr. Impatient," John reached in one of the bags he was holding and chucked a book at Sherlock. "Hope you like it," He carried the other grocery bags to the kitchen and made two cups of tea.
Sherlock looked at the book John had bought for him. He read the title and remembered - remembered how he used to hide away in his room and read, away from his parents, away from Mycroft. "This was one of my first books," Sherlock remembered how he always wished that he could go on the adventure, to meet Gandalf and Thorin.
"Here, your tea," Sherlock was woken up from his thoughts by John. "Do you like the book?"
"Just what I needed," Sherlock replied. John hummed with relief and started reading his own book.
Sherlock opened The Hobbit. He was just about to start reading when he noticed something in the corner of his eye.
A tiny envelope, it seemed..

----

You ran through the forest. Still no trace of Gandalf.
"Gandalf!" You tried again. Still no answer. You ran further.
Suddenly, you were grabbed by two strong arms. You wanted to scream, but no sound cam out of your mouth.
"Sssh! They will hear you," You looked at the person who had captured you and sighed in relief. Gandalf.
"Trolls," Was the only word you could bring out. "They have captured the dwarves and Bilbo, we have to save them,"
Gandalf's eyes grew big. "Let's go,"

Chapter Text

Would it really work?

Sherlock was in his room, studying the tiny letters and the powder.
There were two letters, and both said different instructions.

INSTRUCTIONS
To read something out of the book:
• Write a paragraph describing the object/person
• Sprinkle some of thee most precious Eldar Powder on your tongue
• Never use the name of the person or object you are reading about
• If it affects the story with major consequences it will not work.

INSTRUCTIONS
To travel into the book:
• Sprinkle some of thee most precious Eldar Powder on your tongue.
• When you start reading, keep the jar of Starlight in your pocket.
• You will not have to sprinkle it on your tongue again, for it's power will last forever.

Sherlock found it strangely delightful, although he tried to act normal around John. He was curious, and wanted to see if it worked. He had studied the powder under the microscope, and he had never seen anything like it. Sherlock realized that he wasn't bored any more, thanks to John.
John was still sitting in his armchair when Sherlock came out of the room. It was getting dark already.
"John, let's go. We're having dinner at Angelo's,"

-----

“Don’t bother cooking them. Let’s just sit on them and squash them into jelly.” The biggest of the trolls spoke. You sneaked closer. It was slowly starting to become light. You could see Bilbo and a few dwarves tied up in sacks close to the fire; the rest of the company was on the spit, above the fire.
“They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage.” The other troll said. You tried to crawl closer.
“Ooh, that does sound quite nice.” The troll answered. You wondered if they had names.
“Untie us, you monsters!” You couldn't quite hear who said that, but it wasn't helping. You tried to get Bilbo's attention.
“Take on someone your own size!” That was Gloin. Or Oin? One of them.
“Never mind the seasoning; we ain’t got all night! Dawn ain’t far away, so let’s get a move on. I don’t fancy being turned to stone.” That was the third troll. He was turning the spit.
You tried to move even closer, but the bushes stopped. The plan was to keep the Trolls from eating any of the dwarves until Gandalf arrived. "Bilbo!" You tried to whisper. The little hobbit looked around, searching for the one who had said his name. You were surprised that he could hear you. "Bilbo!" You said again, a little louder. He looked at you this time, and crawled closer.
"(y/n)? Is that you?" Bilbo said softly. "Where have you been?"
"I've gone to find Gandalf. He asked me if you could distract the trolls for a bit,"
"The- the trolls? Distract them? Are you mad? One step and I am squashed!" Bilbo was silent for a moment. "Okay, all right,"
Bilbo stood up. “Wait! You are making a terrible mistake.”
"You can’t reason with them, they’re halfwits!” Dori shouted from the spit.
“Uh, I meant with the, uh, with, uh, with the seasoning.” Bilbo continued.
“What about the seasoning?” The biggest troll said. You were trying to crawl closer to Thorin, so that you could untie him.
“Well have you smelt them? You’re going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.” Bilbo answered.
"Very smooth..." You thought. The dwarves yelled at Bilbo, calling him a traitor. "I would too," You thought.
“What do you know about cooking dwarf?” One of the trolls asked.
“Shut up, and let the, uh, flurgaburburrahobbit talk.” The other said.
“Uh, th- the secret to cooking dwarf is, um” Bilbo stuttered. You hoped he would come up with something good.
“Yes? Come on," The biggest troll was getting impatient.
“It’s, uh” Bilbo said, still stuttering.
“Tell us the secret.” The troll urged on.
“Ye-yes, I’m telling you, the secret is..." There was a dramatic pause."...to skin them first!” Bilbo said happily, glad that he found something. You facepalmed yourself. How stupid could he be?
“Tom, get me the filleting knife.” The troll listening to Bilbo said. This was going the wrong way. Complains and insults could be heared from the dwarves.
“What a load of rubbish! I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff them, I say, boots and all.” One of the other trolls claimed.
You saw something move behind the trees. Gandalf.
“`e’s right! Nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf! Nice and crunchy.” One of the trolls walked towards the dwarves who were stacked on the floor, and grabbed Bombur. "Oh no!" You thought. "I have to do something,"
“Not- not that one, he- he’s infected!” Bilbo finally said.
“You what?” The troll was about to eat Bombur.
“Yeah, He’s got worms in his ... tubes.” Bilbo said. The troll yelled and threw Bombur back in disgust. You sighed. At least they weren't going to skin them anymore.
“In- in fact they all have, they’re in- infested with parasites. It’s a terrible business; I wouldn’t risk it, I really wouldn’t.” Bilbo convinced them.
“Parasites, did he say parasites?” Oin said.
“We don’t have parasites! You have parasites!” Kili shouted. You rolled your eyes. The dwarves were not the cleverest lot.
The rest of the dwarves chimed about how they didn’t have parasites, causing confusion by the trolls. "Thorin!" You whispered loudly. "Do something!"
Thorin nodded and kicked the others. It was silent for a while, and then finally, the dwarves understood.
“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm.” Gloin said.
“Mine are the biggest parasites, I’ve got huge parasites!” Kili claimed. You smiled.
“We’re riddled.”
“Yes, I’m riddled.”
“Yes we are. Badly!”

"The dawn will take you all!" Finally. Gandalf stood on a big rock which was blocking the sun. He put his wizard staff high in the air and stroked the rock. There was a crackling noise, and the rock split in two, letting the sunlight through.
"What is happening to the trolls?" You asked.
"They're turning to stone," Thorin said. It was true. The trolls' skin was replaced by grey rock. Within seconds, they were no more then ordinary statues.

Chapter Text

"Where did you go, if I may ask?" Thorin walked to Gandalf. He was glad to see the wizard, but he would never show that.
"To look ahead," Gandalf answered.
"What brought you back?" Thorin asked. Gandalf glanced in your direction. You were helping the dwarves on the spit to get down.
Thorin noticed Gandalf looking. "Her?" He asked.
Gandalf nodded. "Clever girl, she is," He looked at the stone trolls. "Nasty business. Still, you are all in one piece,"
"No thanks to your burglar," Thorin noted. "He told the trolls to skin us,"
"He had the nous to play for time! None of you thought of that," Gandalf defended him.
"Yes, after she told him what to do," Thorin paused. "And it nearly got us killed,"
"So you are saying that if Bilbo had not said anything, you would still be alive? Dear Thorin, I think you need to watch your words," Gandalf said. Thorin wanted to answer, but was interrupted by you walking towards them.
"Since when do trolls venture this far south?" You asked, looking at the immense statues.
“Oh, not for an age, not since a darker power ruled these lands.” Gandalf answered. Gandalf and Thorin looked meaningfully at each other. “Well, they could not have moved in daylight, if this is what happens to them," You said casually.
“There must be a cave nearby," Thorin said. "Come,"

They found the cave not far from the camp. The smell was even stronger there, and you had to hold your breath to prevent vomiting.
"Why does it have to smell so much? Why can't it just smell like... roses, or something?" You asked yourself. You wondered what exactly the smell was. Thorin entered the cave, with Gandalf, Bofur, Nori, Gloin and Dwalin on his heels. You entered last.
"Is that.. a hand? Never mind, I don't want to know," You pulled a face. The stench was nearly unbearable.
"These swords were not made by any troll," Thorin seemed to have found something interesting. You walked past the dwarves who were stuffing gold in a small chest, and joined Thorin. He was standing in front of what appeared to be a basket with swords.
"Nor were they made by any smith among man," Gandalf said. You reached out and got hold of one of the swords. You brushed away the cobwebs and lifted the sword a few centimetres out of its scabbard. The blade was black with glistering light. It reminded you of moonstone.
Thorin also grabbed two swords and passed one to Gandalf. Gandalf took his sword out of his scabbard and examined it.
“These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age.” Gandalf said. Thorin, hearing the word "elves", put back the sword in disgust.
“You could not wish for a finer blade.” Gandalf said. Carefully, Thorin picked up the sword again. It had a beautiful shape that you had never seen before. You smiled a little, holding your new sword. You could always try to work with two...
"Let's go out of this foul place," Thorin said, turning away. "Bofur, Gloin, Nori!"

You walked next to Gandalf to the way out. "What the..." You stepped on something hard. "Gandalf, come look at this,"
Gandalf looked at the thing you'd stepped on. It was a sword, but it was much smaller then the others.
"Are you thinking what I am thinking?" You said. Gandalf nodded.
"You give it to him," Gandalf handed the sword to you.
"Thanks," You said. You walked outside to Bilbo.
"Bilbo," You said. The little hobbit turned around.
"Hmm?"
"Here. This is about your size," You handed him the sword.
“I can’t take this.”
“The blade is of Elvish make which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby.” You assured him.
“I have never killed anything in my life.” Bilbo said, looking sad.
“And I hope you never have to. But if you do, remember this: true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one.” You smiled. "Remember what I taught you,"

“Something’s coming!” Thorin shouted.
“Stay together! Hurry now. Arm yourselves.” Gandalf said.
You turned to Bilbo. "When the time comes, I am sure you'll do perfect," You pulled your new sword out of your scabbard and followed the others. "Come!" You said. "Who knows what might be out there," Bilbo slowly drew his sword and looked at it. He sighed and followed you into the woods.

The bushes moved. The dwarves stood ready, armed.
“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” Radagast came flying out of the bushes on his rabbit sled.
"Radagast.." You murmured.
“Radagast! Radagast the Brown. Ah. What on earth are you doing here?” Gandalf said. The dwarves relaxed.
“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.” Radagast spoke quickly. "Can I talk to you, alone?" He caught your eye and smiled. "Oh hello there, (y/n),"
“Yes, of course,” Gandalf looked quickly around. "Be on guard. This won't take long," He spoke to Thorin before he turned around to vanish between the trees.
Kili nudged you with his elbow. "Hey, how do you know him?"
You shook your head. "Long story," You smiled.

After a good 15 minutes, Gandalf still hadn't returned. You were just going to check up on him, when a loud howl broke the silence.
"What was that?" You asked. "It sounded like a wolf. Are there wolfs around here?"
"Wolfs?" Bilbo echoed. He was looking a bit pale.
"Wolfs? No, that was no wolf," Bofur said. Behind him, bushes moved. You saw the head of an enormous.. hound.
"Behind you!" You shouted. You pulled your sword. The animal leaped and landed in the middle of the company. You took your change and struck the beast hard on the neck. It fell down and didn't move. Thorin looked at you with approval.
"Another one!" Bilbo shouted. Another beast appeared behind Dwalin and Fili. Kili shot an arrow in its neck, and Dwalin hit it with his axe.
"Warg-scouts! That means an orc pack is not far behind," Thorin shouted. Gandalf and Radagast came running hurriedly out of the bushes.
“Orc pack?” Bilbo echoed. He looked as white as a sheet.
“Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?” Gandalf asked sternly.
“No one.” Thorin answered.
“Who did you tell?” Gandalf ordered.
“No one, I swear. What in Durin’s name is going on?” Thorin asked.
“You are being hunted.” Gandalf said. “We have to get out of here.”
“We can’t! We have no ponies; they bolted. Only Thunder is still there,”
Your eyes lit up. “I’ll draw them off.” You and Radagast said simultaneously. You looked at Radagast and nodded. You whistled. Thunder came rushing out of the bushes. You quickly mounted him.
“These are Gundabad Wargs; they will outrun you!” Gandalf said.
“These are Rhosgobel Rabbits; I’d like to see them try.” Radagast said, jumping on his rabbit sled. Thorin ran towards you and handed you his bow and quiver.
"Go get them," He said. You nodded and ordered Thunder to run. "Show them the meaning of speed, Thunder!"
Radagast rode next to you. "I'll distract them, and you come from behind and run them down," He said. You nodded, and without another word you split ways. You rode a circle, and waited for all the wargs to pass before you went after them. You'd often tried to stand on Thunder while he was moving, and now the practice seemed to come in handy. "Come on boy, lets get them!"
You drew the bow and arrow; You had done it before, but not as often as sword fighting. You shot a few orcs of their wargs, but you saw that it was easier to shoot the warg then the rider.
"Five down, Thunder!" You shouted. You reached for another arrow, but there was none. "Fuck," You said. You drew your sword. "Remember all those people who wanted to buy you? Remember how you kicked and bit them? Do the same now, Thunder," You spurred him to go even faster.
You ran next to the last warg of the pack. The orc on it was ugly; They all were. You stood up on Thunder and sliced the head clean off. Your sword glistered with black orc blood. You tried to reach the warg, but he was slowing down, trying to bite Thunder. "Okay, lets do this," You said. The warg was behind you now, and you turned around. You pulled your knife out of your pocket and threw it. It landed in between the warg's eyes. "That was close," You said when the warg fell down. You turned forward again, and saw that you were right behind another warg. The orc hadn't noticed anything. You reached in your saddlebag and pulled out your rope. You tied a loop and swung it around your head. "Lets try it," You thought. You threw the rope to the orc. It missed, but caught around one of the legs of the warg. "Slow down, Thunder!" You shouted. The warg tripped, and you heard the sound of bone crushing. The warg fell and the orc flew in the air.
"Come on, lets get the rest," You couldn't see Radagast anywhere. You followed the orc pack, and then you heard it; The sound of an orc getting killed. The orc pack stopped. You noticed too late. Their leader shouted something, and then 3 wargs were chasing you. Thunder sprinted away, the wargs on your heels. On your left you saw that the dwarves were being chased too.
You steered Thunder to the wargs that were chasing the dwarves. You managed to decapitate two before they were circling you. You didn't see the dwarves. You stood still, and looked at the orcs. They were waiting for the other to move first.
"If you are going to kill me, please hurry up," You said. The biggest of the orcs charged first. He aimed for your ribs, but Thunder jumped away. The orcs sword hit your leg and sliced though the fabric. You lifted your sword and hacked his arm off. You could feel the red liquid running down your leg. The orc screamed in pain, and the others charged.
"This is the end," You thought. Then, you heard a familiar sound. It was the sound of a horn, and the orcs around you fell of the wargs like flies. You were confused what was happening. The wargs ran away, yelping. You could feel your blood running in your boot. You looked down, and saw your leg soaked red. "I..feel...dizzy.." You whispered. You tried to maintain your balance, but it didn't work. You fell of Thunder with a painful thump. Thunder whinnied in fright, and nudged your face. You heard the sound of hooves.
"My lord! There is someone, she is wounded!" An unfamiliar voice shouted.

It was the last thing you heard.

Chapter Text

"So, why so happy all so a sudden?" John asked. They were having dinner at Angelo's.
"Not bored," Sherlock said absent-mindedly. He looked at the passing waitress.
"Deducing again, are we?" John asked. "Come on, deduce away,"
"Married young and got divorced, she wants to become a model but it won't work out. She is far too short and a few years past modelling prime, I am afraid. Working as a waitress to support her drug habit as well as a lavish lifestyle she can't afford. It won't be long as waitressing could hardly be bringing in enough money. She is seeing at least two men, one whom she cheated on her ex husband with," Sherlock paused when she passed their table. "And her room mate has a ginger house cat,"
John shook his head and smiled. Sherlock's deductions still amazed him. "So tell me, why aren't you bored? Did you find one of your experiments?"
Sherlock thought about his answer. Would John try to stop him if he told? On the other hand, he never listened to Johns objections. Sherlock took the book out of his trench coat.
"This I found in the book you gave me, and although I considered it, I deducted that you couldn't have put it there. Don't look so confused, I will show you," Sherlock took out the envelope with the letter and the powder and gave it to John. "Open it,"
"Yes, that is what people tend to do with envelopes, Sherlock," John said, opening it. He took out the letter and read it. John casually eyed Sherlock. Was he serious? Did he really think it would work? John tried to hide his smile.
"You don't think it is going to work, and you know I am going to try it anyway," Sherlock looked at John, who was laughing now.
"What do you want to read out of the book anyway? A fucking dinosaur?" John laughed.
"It did cross my mind, but if it works we would likely be eaten or trampled to death. No, I was thinking about something less... harmful," Sherlock said.
"Like?" John asked.
"Well, lets start with something small, a book perhaps. Then, if it works, we can try something alive, like a mouse or some other animal. After that we'll see," Sherlock paused for a moment, deep in thought. "What would you like?" He asked.
John was startled by the question. "What?"
Sherlock sighed. "You know I don't like repeating myself. What would you like having read out of the book?"
"I-" John paused. This was ridiculous. He decided to play along. "I would have to think about that," He heard himself say.

-----

Gandalf counted the company. "12, 13.. Bilbo! 14," He sighed.
"Will she be all right?" Bilbo asked Gandalf. The little hobbit looked worried.
"I am sure she will," Gandalf replied.
“I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or no?” Dwalin asked.
“Follow it, of course!” Bofur answered.
“I think that would be wise.” Gandalf said. All the dwarves followed Dwalin, until it was just Gandalf and Thorin left.
"We can't just leave her behind," Thorin said. "She might be wounded for all we know!"
"She will find us. She knows what will happen, remember? She know where we're headed," Gandalf answered.
"But she might be wounded!" Thorin said.
"You said that you would not be responsible for her fate. How come you have changed your mind?" Gandalf said. Thorin looked at Gandalf and walked away.
The Company followed the path, a crack between two tall cliffs. They walked in silence until the pathway eventually opened out into an open area with a valley below.
“The Valley of Imraldis. In the Common Tongue, it’s known by a another name.” Gandalf said.
“Rivendell.” Bilbo whispered. For one moment, he forgot his worries. He had dreamed of travelling to Rivendell since he was a little hobbit. “Here lies the last Homely House east of the sea.” Gandalf went on.
“This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy.” Thorin said. He couldn't believe it.
“You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only illwill to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself.” Gandalf said sternly.
“You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us.”
“Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered. If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact and respect and no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me.” Gandalf spoke. Thorin lowered his head.

The Company walked across a bridge and entered Rivendell. Bilbo gazed in awe at the beauty of the place. The dwarves looked uneasy.
“Mithrandir.” A dark haired elf walked down the stairs.
“Ah, Lindir!” Gandalf answered.
“Stay sharp.” Thorin whispered to Dwalin. He didn't trust the elves for one bit.
"We heard you had crossed into the Valley," Lindir said to Gandalf.
Gandalf ignored the comment. “I must speak with Lord Elrond.”
“My lord Elrond is not here,” Lindir answered.
“Not here? Where is he?” Gandalf asked. The sound of the horns filled the air. The dwarves turned around. There, on the bridge, several armed horsemen were coming their way.
“Ifridî bekâr!” Thorin shouted. “Hold ranks!”
The dwarves bunched up together into a tight circle with their weapons pointed outward. Bilbo was in the middle of the circle. He could see the elves ride in circles around the dwarves; He was fascinated by their armour.
Lord Elrond rode forward, with a black horse next to him.
"Thunder.." Bilbo breathed. Thorin looked at Bilbo, then to the horse. The hobbit was right. Thorin looked around. Where were you?
Lord Elrond jumped of his horse. In his arms, he was holding you. Blood was dripping from your leg, and your eyes were closed.
"No," Thorin said. He ran towards you, with Bilbo on his heels.
"I am guessing you know her," Lord Elrond spoke. "We need to care for her, and fast," He ran past Gandalf. You left a trail of blood.
"Thorin, Bilbo, go with him. The rest, stay here," Gandalf ordered. He didn't like the look of that cut. Gandalf knew that orcs poisoned their weapons with their own blood. That way, the victim would always die if not treated immediately.
"What will happen to her, Gandalf?" Kili asked. He looked worried.
"Elves are the best healers in Middle Earth. Lord Elrond will know what to do," Gandalf assured him.
Kili nodded, and went to sit with his brother.

Chapter Text

You slowly opened your eyes. The light outside the room shone brightly through the window, and it took some time for you to ajust to the sudden light. You looked around the room. Where were you? Weaved patterns were carved in the ceiling, with pictures of roses and other flowers.
You tried to sit up, but grimaced in pain when you moved your leg. You tried to remember what had happened, but failed to do so. The only thing you remembered was the fight you’d had with the orcs. You slowly moved the blanket away to reveal your leg. There was white bandaging around it, and it smelled of fennel. You touched the material. It was soft, and carefully but tightly wrapped around your leg.
You sighed and let yourself fall back into the bed. There was no point in trying to get out; The pain was too much. You took a deep breath and listened to the sounds outside.
You were just about to fall asleep, when you heard voices in the hallway.

"How sure are you that this is her?” An unknown woman’s voice asked.
"Very sure. She even carries the Durin birthmark. There is no doubt, it has to be her,” That was Gandalf. You sat up a bit to hear better.
"I would like to see that. To be sure, we have to place her blood on the moonstone,” The woman’s voice said. "It will glow dark blue if it is true,” The voice paused. "Tonight is full moon. It will happen then,”
"What happens if it is her?” Gandalf asked.
"Then the lost daughter of Durin is found,” The woman responded. Their footsteps passed your room, and the talking quickly faded. You thought about what they had said.

"The lost daughter of Durin? Do they mean Sora?” You recalled the story Thorin had told you. "Disappeared without a trace…” You whispered. "Did they find her? Where?” You lay silent for a while, lost in thought.
"(y/n)?” You were woken from your thoughts. You lifted your head to see who had spoken. Thorin entered the room.
"Hey,” You smiled. "Is everyone all right? No one hurt?”
"No one except you,” Thorin paused. "Nasty cut, right to the bone,”
"Good,” You sighed. "Rather me then anyone else. I’ll be all right, I can take it,”
"If it wasn’t for that elven lord you would’ve been dead,” Thorin spoke. "I hate to admit it, but he and his elven friends did a good job,”
"I honestly can’t remember,” You said. "What happened?”
"We arrived here before you. We were standing at the porch, so to speak. Suddenly there were those horns again, and lord Eldong and his horsemen came riding though the gates.” Thorin took a deep breath.
"I do believe you mean Lord Elrond,” You smiled.
„Yes, him. We didn’t see you at first, because he was carrying you on his horse. Then, he jumped off, and in his hands he was holding you. Your leg was drenched with blood. He quickly brought you to another room, where Bilbo and I witnessed your healing,”
You both were silent for a while.
"How long have I been here?” You asked.
"About a day and a half. You have not missed much,”
"But what about the map,” You said. „Has lord Elrond translated it yet?”
Thorin shook his head. "He is resting now. Gandalf said he’d speak to him,”
"I am sorry to hold you up, you could’ve continued your journey by now if this hadn’t happened,” You said while motioning towards your leg.
"You saved our lives,” Thorin said. "And I am very grateful for that. I actually came here to say… thank you,”
"It was nothing,” You replied. "I would’ve never forgiven myself if anything had happened to any of you,” Deep down inside you were surprised. Thorin Oakenshield, saying thanks to you? This was new.
"You probably need some sleep,” Thorin spoke. "I’ll leave you be,”
"Thanks for checking up on me,” You smiled.
Thorin nodded and walked out the room.

After your talk with Thorin you managed to get some more sleep. When you awoke, Gandalf was sitting in the room on a chair. It was dark outside.
"Hello,” Gandalf smiled. "How are you feeling?”
"Better, I guess,” You tried to move your leg. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt that much as it did that morning.
"Good, very good,” Gandalf said in himself. "I am guessing you must be hungry,”
"I could eat something, yes,” You said. Now you thought about it, your stomach started to rumble quite a bit.
"Come on then, Lord Elrond has invited you for dinner,”
"Just me?” You asked.
Gandalf nodded. "Just you,”
You raised your eyebrows. "Why?”
"He saved your life! Are you going to refuse his wishes?” Gandalf asked.
"No, no, not at all,” You said quickly. "I was just wondering, that’s all,”
Gandalf nodded. "Good. You can lean on me, I’ll bring you to the dining room,”

15 minutes and a lot of pain and cursing later, you were seated at Lord Elrond’s dining table. Elrond himself wasn’t there yet, and Gandalf had left you to check up on the dwarves. You looked around the room. The beauty and grace of it amazed you. The room was filled with the same weaved pattern you had on the ceiling on your room, only here it was more complicated. Some parts looked like they were decorated with silver linings.

"Le suilon,” A voice said. Elvish. You had to remember what it meant.
"Hîr vuin,” You replied. You bowed your head.
"No need for bowing, my child. Tell me, how is your leg?” Lord Elrond came walking down the stairs. He had long brown hair that flowed in a straight line down his shoulders. On his head, there was a beautiful simple crown made of silver.
"It is better, my Lord,” You watched him take a seat opposite you. "I thank you,”
"Orc blood, nasty business. Once it reaches the heart, the victim is doomed. We acted quickly,” Lord Elrond said. "Your friends never left your side,”
You smiled. Lord Elrond pointed to the food. "You may eat, you must be hungry,”
You thanked him and dished up some of the food. There were different kinds of vegetable dishes and salads, which you quickly devoured. Once you finished eating, Lord Elrond brought you outside, to a rock platform underneath a beautiful waterfall. In the middle, there was a stone that shone in the moonlight. Gandalf and a lady cloaked in white stood next to it.

"Iston i nîf lîn,” The lady in white said. It was the voice you heard this morning. You frowned. If you recalled correctly, that meant "I know your face.” You were very sure you hadn’t seen her before.
"Sut?” You asked.
"(y/n), this is Lady Galadriel,” Gandalf introduced her. You’d heard her name before.
"Why am I here?” You asked.
"(y/n), there is something I haven’t told you. Do you remember that I at the beginning of this quest mentioned that you were someone of great importance?” Gandalf spoke. You nodded. You had knots in your stomach.
"We are here tonight to see if you are the one we believe you to be,” Gandalf continued.
"Who?” You asked. You recalled the conversation Gandalf and Galadriel had had. You shook your head. No. That wasn’t possible. It couldn’t possibly be true.
"Sora Durin. The lost daughter of Thorin Oakenshield,” Galadriel spoke.
"But it cannot be,” You said. "Its impossible! My parents adopted me when I was just a few years old,”
"And Sora Durin vanished when she was just a few years old! You can’t remember spending time with the people who adopted you when you were one or two, can you?” Gandalf said.
"No,” You said. "But who can? I can’t even remember my life at four years of age,”
"We are here to see if you are the one we believe you to be. If we were wrong, then the moon will tell us,” Lord Elrond spoke. "Please remove your coat,”
"My coat?” You thought. Was this some kind of joke? It couldn’t be true. Sadly, they were all looking very serious. You sighed and removed your coat. You shivered in the wind. Lord Elrond stood behind you.
"May I please reveal your shoulder?” He asked. You frowned once again.
"Do what you must,” You replied. Lord Elrond slipped the sleeve off your right shoulder.
"It is there,” Lord Elrond said.
"What is there, there is nothing on my shoulder,” You said. Or so you thought.
"Eight dots, in the form of a circle,” Galadriel noted. "The birthmark of Durin,”
"Please explain,” You said.
"Every descendant from the line of Durin has those marks on their shoulder,” Gandalf explained. "Fili. Kili. Thorin. You.”
"It could still be a coincidence,” You said.
"That is why we are standing here tonight. We need you to place your blood on the stone,” Lord Elrond explained, handing you a small knife. "A few drops are enough. The stone will glow dark blue if you are from the line of Durin,”
Great. Now you had to cut yourself? This was getting weirder by the second. But deep down inside you, you were curious.

You held the knife and walked to the pale stone. You made a cut in your hand. It stung as you watched the blood flow out of it. Four droops of blood fell on the stone before you walked backwards.The crimson liquid quickly vanished into the stone. The moon seemed to shine brighter then before, and then colours seemed to flow into the stone. The moon vanished behind the clouds, and had left the stone in two colours.

Pink.

And dark, dark

Blue.

Chapter Text

"I am the lost daughter of Thorin Oakenshield," You whispered. How on earth was it possible?
"What... does the pink mean?" You asked, your voice shaking.
"I...I do not know," Lord Elrond said softly. "I have never seen anything like it before,"
"But.. how... how can I be her? It doesn't make any sense," You asked.
"It is possible that someone read you out of this world," Gandalf said. "You are not the only one who received the powder,"
"Read... me out? Why would anyone do that and then dump me at an orphanage?" You shook your head. It didn't make sense to you at all.
"That I don't know," Gandalf said. "And more importantly, who is your mother?"
"Is that the pink? My mother's DNA?" You pointed to the stone.
"It might be," Lord Elrond spoke. "It is best to ask Thorin himself. You will have to do this alone, (y/n). You have to tell Thorin,"
"How will I be able to convince him? I barely believe it myself," You whispered. It felt unreal. You'd thought meeting your real parents would be... less strange. "He had to suffer so many years with his loss, not even knowing if Sora was alive or not, and now you want me to walk up to him and tell him I am his lost daughter?!" You were on the verge of tears.
"Show him the evidence," Lady Galadriel spoke. "Show him the birthmark. He knows about the stone. Show him,"
"Can I have a minute?" You said softly. "My mind needs to catch up on all the information,"
Galadriel nodded and the three left the room.

You slowly walked to the stone and looked at the colours. The blood in your hand had begun to dry. "So... I guess my real name is Sora now," You whispered. "Sora Durin," The name felt strange on your tongue. A single tear rolled down your cheek. You wondered how Thorin would react, if he would believe it in the first place... You sighed. You had felt strangely at home with the dwarves, and now the pieces began to fall into place. "Someone of great importance..." You thought. Gandalf had known all along.
You looked at the full moon. "Okay. I have to get this over and done with," You left the room to find Thorin.

You found the dwarves on one of the large veranda's, making a fire with some furniture. You smiled and shook your head.
"(y/n)!" Kili walked towards you. "We were so worried! Are you okay?" All the dwarves turned to you, but you couldn't spot Thorin.
"She's back!" Bofur exclaimed loudly, who obviously had too much to drink. The dwarves cheered.
"Yeah, I am fine," You said to Kili. "Do you know where Thorin is?"
"I haven't seen him," Kili answered. "Check the gardens,"
You nodded. "Thanks," You began to walk away, when you felt a hand on yours. You turned, and looked down on Bilbo.
"I can see you are not okay," He whispered. "What is wrong?"
"I will tell you, but not now. I need to find Thorin," You spoke. "Do you know where he is?"
Bilbo looked sad. "He went that way, about an hour ago," Bilbo pointed to the stairs. "I am here if you need me,"
You looked at the hobbit and smiled. "I know. Thank you," You walked down the stairs.

Thorin was standing at the edge of one of the cliffs, looking at the moon. "It is so pale," He said when you stood next to him.
You nodded. "But beautiful at the same time," You sighed. "Thorin, there is something-"
"Don't tell me anything yet. I want to enjoy this peaceful moment for a bit longer," He looked at the moon one last time and then turned to you. "I noticed you went to dine with Lord Elrond. What did he want from you?" Thorin asked.
You swallowed hard. "He wanted my identity," You said. Thorin raised his eyebrows.
"And what am I to make of that?" He asked.
"I am not who you think I am, Thorin," You took a deep breath. "I don't even know who I am any longer,"
"What do you mean," Thorin looked concerned. "What did they do to you?" He grabbed your hands, and you winced when he touched the cut in your hand. "Whoever did this to you will pay," Thorin whispered.
You smiled. "I did it, don't worry,"
"Why?"
"They needed to see if I was who they believed me to be," You said. You closed your hand.
"And who was that?" Thorin said.
"Sora Durin," You said, looking him in the eyes.

Thorin's mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the right words.
"And are you?" He asked, his voice breaking. As an answer, you revealed the birthmark on your right shoulder. Thorin went over the eight dots with his finger. A single tear rolled down his cheek. You held out your hand.
"There is more," You spoke. You lead him to the room where the stone was still glowing pink and dark blue in the moonlight.
"Galadriel told me you knew about this stone," You whispered.
"Aye," Thorin said softly. He walked to the stone and touched it. "We used to have one at the top of the mountain. As white as the moon itself," Thorin looked up. "When I would imagine what it would be like to be reunited with my daughter, I didn't imagine it would go like this," Thorin said.
"Neither did I," You answered quietly. "It feels very... unreal,"
"Yes," Thorin breathed. You saw that the thought hadn't quite hit him yet- he was still processing it. Suddenly he turned around. "You are my daughter," He said softly. He walked towards you and gently brushed the hair out of your face. "My kin,"
You smiled. "Yes," Another tear rolled down your cheek, and Thorin wiped it away. He brought his forehead to yours until they were touching.
"Menu tessu men," He whispered in Khuzdul. "I swear that I will protect you with my own life, and that I will never, ever let you be taken away from me again,"

Chapter Text

Thorin needed some time alone. You understood. You roamed though the empty halls, lost in thought. Who would your mom be..?
You hadn't asked Thorin, and you didn't know if you'd be ready for it. You stopped in front of one of the pale marble statues. The statue was holding a slab of marble, with the broken pieces of a sword on it.
"Narsil..." You whispered. Your hand hovered over the broken pieces.

"I wouldn't touch that, if I were you,"

You pulled your hand back in fright and looked behind you. There was a tall man cloaked in white with a black staff staring at you. You took a step backwards.
"Don't be afraid, my child. I did not mean to scare you," The man said. He had long, white hair, but from the looks of it he was no elf.
"Who... are you?" You asked.
"I am Saruman the White," The man replied. Of course. In the book, Saruman was only turning evil in Lord of the Rings, not in the Hobbit. Still, you were on your guard. "And who might you be?"
"(y/n)..I mean.. Sora,"
Saruman lifted his eyebrows. "You don't seem very sure of your own name,"
"I have.. many," You replied. You weren't sure if he knew who you were. If he did, he didn't show it. You did not trust him.
"Ah," Saruman spoke. "I imagine it must be difficult to adapt to your new identity,"
So he did know. "Yes... It is quite hard to believe," You answered. "Now if you would excuse me," You tried to slip passed him, but he caught your arm and pulled you closer. You could feel his breath on your skin.
"Thorin Oakenshield and all his kin will suffer," He whispered in your ear. "Revolting creatures. All of them. The dwarves will not survive the war,"
"What war," You said. Anger began to boil inside you, but you suppressed it. Everything about Saruman disgusted you.
"You know. You have read the books," Saruman smirked and let go of your arm. "If you tell anyone about this, they will die," He warned you before he quickly walked away.
You shivered. "So Saruman is already on the dark side..." You whispered. You rubbed your arm. For an old wizard, he had a tight grip.

You walked back to the veranda where you knew you'd find the dwarves. When you entered, most of them were already in a deep sleep. Your eyes rested on Bilbo, who was still awake. He was writing something in a small book. You walked towards him.
"Hey," Bilbo said when you sat down next to him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think I am," You smiled. "What are you writing?"
"Oh, nothing special," He put the book back in his bag.
You looked at the sleeping dwarves. "Where is Balin?" You noted.
"Didn't you know? Him and Thorin went to show the map to Lord Elrond," Bilbo answered. "I thought you'd gone with them,"
"No, I didn't know about it," You answered. You lay down on the cold floor.
"I kept your bag save, while you were... you know. Here," Bilbo handed you your bag, which you took gratefully. You pulled out your blanket.
"Thanks," You said. You waited for Bilbo to lie down before you continued. "Lord Elrond told me that you and Thorin were at my side the whole time, when I was unconscious,"
Bilbo smiled a little. "Yes," He sighed. "You talked a lot in your sleep,"
You frowned. "Really? What did I say,"
"You were talking about angels," Bilbo replied. "That they come and go. And you kept repeating one sentence,"
"What?" You asked.
"Don't give me up," Bilbo spoke. "You asked us not to give you up,"
You were silent for a while, wondering why you would say such a thing.
"We will never," Bilbo muttered softly. You smiled.
"Thank you," You whispered. You listened to Bilbo's breathing for a while.
"I am the daughter of Thorin Oakenshield," You whispered softly.
"Tell me I heard that wrong," Bilbo turned to you.
You shook your head. "You mustn't tell anyone, okay?" You pleaded. "I thought you had the right to know,"
Bilbo nodded, unable to speak. "...How do you know this?" He asked after a long silence.
"Look," You showed him the birthmark. "All descendants from the line of Durin have this mark. Fili, Kili, Thorin... and now me," You smiled. "We tested my blood, too. It's positive,"
Bilbo smiled and shook his head. "I never knew Thorin had a daughter,"
"I didn't either, until a few days ago. He told me on the first day that we were travelling," You said. "Sora Durin, was her name... my name,"
"It's nice," Bilbo spoke. "It suits you,"
You smiled. You looked at Bilbo, and saw that he was deep in thought.
"But if you are the daughter of Thorin, how come you are taller then all these dwarves?" Bilbo asked.
"My only explanation for that is that my mother was no dwarf," You answered. "I haven't heard him talk about her, so I am guessing she either left him or she..." You didn't say the word.
"She must've been very beautiful, to have a child like you,"
You blushed at that, and you were glad that the night hid your red cheeks. "I'll take that as a compliment," You said smiling.
"You better," Bilbo grinned before turning to the other side. His back faced you now, and he let out a sigh. "Sleep well, (y/n).. Sora," He whispered.
"Good night," You whispered back.

That night, you dreamed of the lonely mountain.

Chapter Text

"Sherlock, I am going out for a moment," John said, grabbing his jacket. He sighed when his friend didn't answer, rolled his eyes and went outside. Sherlock, however, was busy in his room. Gandalf's note was lying on the bed with the powder, and Sherlock was scribbling something in his notebook.
"No," He murmured. "No, no, no!" He crumpled the piece of paper and threw it in the trash.
About a week ago, him and John had barely escaped death when they were following a criminal mastermind.
They were discovered, and they would've been dead if it wasn't for John's shooting skills. John was hit by a bullet which just grazed his arm. Sherlock could see John had been sleeping less since, and deduced that he had been having nightmares again.

"AARGH!" Sherlock threw the notebook against the wall. He was quite good at writing, very good even, but now nothing would flow from his fingers.

Later, after the fight with the criminal, they drove back to 221B Baker street in a cab. John had been very tired, and had soon fallen asleep in the car, but not before whispering "We need someone to protect us,". John had said it more to himself than to Sherlock, but Sherlock had heard it and there he was, sitting on his bed trying to write a story about someone who could protect him and John.

"This is never going to bloody work!" Sherlock realised that he had writers block. He had never had it before, and it frustrated him beyond measure.

Sherlock had tried reading stuff out of the pieces he had written. Most of the time he was successful, but most of the items would appear in the weirdest places and sometimes days later. He had never tried to read a living person out of a written piece before, but he was willing to try for the sake of John. Sherlock had tried to think of someone who could protect them, but nothing came to mind. Sherlock's gaze wondered around the room. His eyes rested on his copy of the Hobbit.
"Of course..." He whispered.

-----

"Wakey wakey!" Someone flicked your nose.
"Hey!" You opened your eyes and looked straight at Kili's face. You pushed him away and sat up. "Why are you up so early?" You asked when the other dwarves were still sleeping. Thorin and Balin were back, you saw. Fili was nowhere to be seen.
"Fili and I wanted to show you something! Come," Kili held out his hand. You grabbed it and stood up.
You followed Kili outside, where Fili was waiting for you. You followed the two up countless stairs until you arrived in one of Rivendell's highest towers. You looked out the window, and was greeted by the most beautiful sunrise ever.
"And?" Fili asked.
"Its amazing!" You smiled. Rivendell looked like it was surrounded in a golden light. Sun rays reflected on the water, making it look like melted gold. There was no cloud to be seen. "It looks like a perfect day," You said.
"It is one," Kili answered. You were silent for a while, reliving the day before. The daughter of Thorin Oakenshield... you still had a hard time believing it.
"So that means.. that Fili and Kili are my cousins?" You thought. "No wonder they said I looked like Dís and Kili,"
"What are you thinking about?" Fili sat down on the windowsill.
"Nothing, really," You smiled. You wanted to tell them, you just didn't know how to.
"Liar," Fili smiled. "There is something on your mind,"
"Yeah, there is," You admitted.
"You can tell us," Kili said. He took place on the other side of the windowsill.
"I know I can," You answered. "I just don't know how to," You looked at the two dwarves. They looked back at you patiently, waiting for an answer.

"Sora,"

You looked behind you. Thorin was standing at the stairs. "Hey," You smiled. You walked towards Thorin and hugged him.
"...Sora..?" Fili said.
"..wasn't that the name of.." Kili asked.
Thorin nodded. "When I awoke, I thought yesterday had been a dream. I had to go and check," He told you.
"It is real," You assured him. "I think we owe these two an explanation," You pointed to Fili and Kili, who both looked very lost.
"How.." Fili started. Thorin silenced him.
"It is a long story, and I prefer to not tell it twice. You will hear everything when the others are awake," Thorin spoke. With that, he walked back down the stairs.
"We better follow him, if you want to hear what happened," You said. "The news might seem a little... unreal to you,"
"Indeed," Fili spoke. "Let's go,"

Chapter Text

You arrived downstairs to the rest of the dwarves who were already busy having breakfast. You smiled at Bilbo, who by the looks of it had just woken up. His curly hair was standing in all different directions and he had a sleepy look on his face.
The dwarves looked up when Thorin entered. Thorin gave them a serious look, and within seconds the room was quiet.

"Some of us may have heard the tale. The tale of my lost daughter, Sora Durin," Thorin started. Some heads nodded. Balin's face dropped. You could feel Kili standing next to you, and you reached out for his hand. He squeezed it and held it tight.
"..And some of us may not. I had a daughter, after the dragon took our kingdom," Thorin walked around the room. "She was taken from me when she was just barely 3 years old. Vanished, without a trace. Some of us went looking, but we were unsuccessful,"
You could see Dwalin grimacing, obviously remembering the story Thorin was telling.
"After a while, people started telling me that she surely was dead, that no one could survive being out in the wild for so long," Thorin shook his head. "I didn't believe them. I refused to. I told them they could Ish kakhfê ai’d dur rugnu if they told me again, because in my heart, I knew she was still alive,"
Your eyes began to water. When you were young, you never received any parental love from the ones who had adopted you. Hearing someone speak about you like this... was strange, to think that someone cared about you.
"I stopped looking a few years ago. I prayed to Mahal that she would come back to me," Thorin looked at you. "And she did."
The dwarves turned their heads to you. You realised it was your turn to talk.
"Yesterday, after my leg was healed, Lord Elrond asked me to dine with him. After dinner, he showed me a white stone which glistered in the moonlight. Gandalf and Lady Galadriel were there too," You took a deep breath. "They told me that I was her... the lost daughter of Thorin Oakenshield, Sora Durin," You smiled. "I did not believe them. After all, I lived very, very far away from here," You realised that some of them didn't know that you came from another word. "I found out that I was adopted 3 years before I came here. I always wondered who my real parents were, but I had no idea it would go like this,"
"Is there evidence that you are the lost daughter of Durin?" Dwalin asked. There was suspicion in his voice.
"Yes," You turned around and showed the dwarves your shoulder with the 8 dots.
"Bless my beard," Dwalin said. "The Durin birthmark,"
"The stone was no normal stone," Thorin came to stand next to you. "It was one of the Tellers of Truth. Some may recall that us dwarves owned one, on top of the mountain," Again, heads nodded. "It glowed dark blue. Durin's blood."
You wondered why Thorin left out the part that the stone also coloured pink.
Dwalin walked towards you and grabbed your shoulders. "Welcome to the family," He said, smiling. You had never seen Dwalin smile like that before. You smiled back.
"Thank you," You said. Then all the dwarves came to you at once, forcing you into a big group hug. You were nearly squashed, but you didn't mind- You knew you had found your family, and that they cared about you.

-----

Sherlock looked at the piece he'd written. His eyes went over the words.
"A dwarf, stout and strong, had been appointed to watch over two friends who often sought danger. It did not look like a dwarf, but rather a short human being..."
There was more, of course. Sherlock read over it quickly and sighed. He got up, and walked to the kitchen. It was dark outside- It was probably around midnight. Once he switched on the water boiler he heard some stumbling upstairs. Not long after, John appeared in the kitchen.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John asked.
"Making tea," Was Sherlock's short answer.
"At three in the morning?" John spoke.
Sherlock sighed. "John, you can shoot a person in the head at 100 metres, but you fail to see that I am making tea at three in the morning," Sherlock said. "Want some?" He asked, grabbing a cup.
"Sherlock, why are you making tea at three in the morning," John said. When Sherlock didn't answer, John tried again. "Sherlock, look at me."
Sherlock turned his head to John, wondering what he could want.
"Sherlock, you look like you haven't slept in ages," John paused. "It is probably true. When was the last time you slept?"
"What is the date today?" Sherlock asked.
"The 26 of April," John answered.
"3 days," Sherlock said.
"What?! Sherlock, you can't be doing all these cases if you haven't slept in THREE BLOODY DAYS!"
"Do keep your voice down," Sherlock said. "I've gone without any sleep for much longer, you know. If it makes you feel any better, I'll let you know that I was going to attempt sleeping after this cup of tea,"
John huffed. "You better. Going without sleep for so long is bad for you, Sherlock,"
"I know, doctor," Sherlock grabbed his tea and walked to his room, leaving John to stand alone in the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Sherlock waited for John to go out before he took out the paper. His mind suppressed the emotions he was feeling. Nervousness and curiosity.
The paper felt heavy in his hand. Sherlock licked his lips, cautious to say the first word. He wondered what the being he had created would look like. He wondered if the piece of paper would work. For the first time, Sherlock had doubts. He put down the paper and stared at it for a brief moment before picking it up again.
"A dwarf, stout and strong, had been appointed to watch over two friends who often sought danger." Sherlock spoke. His voice grew louder with every word. "It did not look like a dwarf, but rather a short human being..."

-----

"We must reach the mountain by Durin's day," Thorin spoke. "When the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together. Only then we can find the keyhole to the hidden door,"
"That is ill news. Durin's day will soon be upon us," Dwalin spoke. The dwarves were all listening to the plan.
Thorin nodded. That is why we are leaving as soon as possible. The elves will try and stop us, but not if we move quickly,"
"(y/n).. I mean Sora, what is happening to your legs?" Bilbo asked frightened. You frowned and looked at your legs, but saw nothing.

Literally.

"Thorin!" You spoke, fright in your voice. You could still feel your legs, but they were slowly turning invisible.
Thorin looked at you with shocked eyes. "We have to get you to Gandalf," Thorin picked you up and ran to the balcony where Gandalf was in a heated discussion with Lord Elrond. They both looked up when Thorin entered.
"Gandalf, please explain," You asked frightened. Thorin put you down carefully.
Gandalf looked at you in shock. "That is soon, too soon," Gandalf murmured.
"What is too soon," You asked.
"You have taken the powder, this means that you have to help others in need," Gandalf explained.
You looked lost. "I don't understand,"
"You are being read out of the book, Sora. Someone needs your help,"
"What?" Thorin said. "She cannot leave. Not now. There has to be something you can to about this!"
Gandalf shook his head. "No. If fate decides that she must go, she must go."
"But what if I don't want to go?" You asked, on the verge of tears. You had just found your family, and had finally felt home. You couldn't leave now!
"I suggest you say goodbye to the others," Gandalf said."Fate brought you here, and fate will bring you back,"
You looked at Thorin. He looked broken.

"Here," Lord Elrond put something in your hands. "A mithril coat. That way we will be sure you will return,"
"Thank you," You whispered. Your waist was turning invisible, and you realized that there was no way out. "Bye, Gandalf," You said as you hugged the wizard. "Come," You pulled Thorin's arm. "I can't just disappear..." Your voice broke.
Thorin held your hand, and together you returned to the company. You were just a floating torso now, with arms and a head. You said goodbye to all the dwarves, and you promised that you would return.
Bilbo hugged you tight. You could see that he was holding back tears.
"Don't give up," You spoke to him. "See that they are save, for me,"
Bilbo nodded. "Thanks for everything," He whispered.
You let go of Bilbo and looked at Thorin for one last time.
"I will be back before you enter that bloody mountain," You told him. Thorin managed a small smile.
"Aye." He looked you in the eyes. "Be save, and may Mahal be with you,"
You hugged him tight. "Bye, Thorin," You whispered. You picked up your bag and walked away. You did not wish for the dwarves and Bilbo to see you vanish into thin air. You sat down on one of the benches outside, and waited.
A tear rolled down your cheek. You didn't know what would be ahead.
You put on the mithril coat- the strange metal felt cold against your skin.
You sighed, and waited for the unknown to take you.

Only one thing was sure: You weren't anything you thought you were.

Chapter Text

Your eyes fluttered open. The smell of dead leaves reached your nose, and you sat up. You were in a forest, it seemed.

"You are probably wondering where you are,"

You turned around. In front of you there was a woman dressed in green, with dark brown eyes and bright red hair. The unknown woman walked towards you and held out her hand.

"Yes," You replied. You grabbed her hand and stood up.
"You are needed in another word, Sora," The woman spoke. You lifted your eyebrows. How did she know your name? "You must only come back later," The woman continued.
"But why? What about Bilbo?" You asked. "Who are you?"
"Nobody of importance," The woman replied. "You must go soon," She put a hand on your chest. "No one can harm you now,"
You looked down, and the mithril coat seemed to disappear in your skin.
"This will not be the last time this happens," The woman stopped and listened. "He has nearly finished reading. Go well, my child," And with that, she vanished.
"What on earth.." You breathed. You felt a strange buzzing power running though your veins.

Before you knew what was happening, you were read to another world.

-----

"John, emergency. A young woman got driven over by a truck, witnesses say, and got up like nothing happened. Someone brought her to the hospital, will you check up on her?" Sarah stood in the doorway.
"Got driven over by a truck!?" John got up from his chair. "Which room?"
"F-1," Sarah replied.
John hurried out of the room. "First Mrs. Parkinson diagnosed with triplets, then a 78 year old woman who has a libido that's way to high for her age, and now this," He murmured. He walked to room F-1 and opened the door.

"I told you, I am feeling fine, really," A young woman was sitting on the bed, talking to one of the nurses. When John entered the room, the nurse got up.
"Here, I asked some questions and made some notes so you don't have to ask them," The nurse handed you some paper and a pen. "Good luck," She whispered when she walked out the room.

You watched the nurse leave. She had asked you a bunch of questions that were totally irrelevant to the situation you were in. Another nurse, or doctor perhaps, came closer to you. He seemed very, very familiar.
"Hello there," The doctor said. "I am Dr. Watson," The man introduced himself.
"5th Northumberland Fusiliers," You whispered. You tried to hide your smile. "I am (y/n).. I mean Sora,"
"Nice to meet you, Sora. I heard you got driven over by a truck?"
"That's what I heard too. I can't remember exactly what happened," You said. "But honestly John, I feel fine. No aches or anything,"
John Watson looked at you for a long while.
"What is it?" You asked.
"I never told you my first name," John answered. "It's not even on my name plate," He tapped the piece of plastic that was pinned on his shirt.
"I... You just really look like a John to me," You answered. Stupid. You could've slapped yourself.
"Ah," Was the only thing John said. "I will have to take some blood samples, and I need you to stay in the hospital for 24 hours to see if you don't suffer from internal bleeding. This will be your room. Tell the nurse or me straight if there is any blood in your pee or saliva, okay?"
You nodded. "I just have one question. Do you know where my bag is? It was a black backpack,"
"I will ask the nurses for it. Just stay here, and I will come and take the blood samples in a few minutes," John said.
"Okay," You said. You watched John leave the room before you lay down on the white hospital bed. You couldn't believe it. First, you had found your family in the hobbit, and now you had been read into a different story. The story of two friends, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. You were actually looking forward to what adventures lay ahead.

"Is this your bag?" John came in with your huge backpack in the one hand, and in the other a tray with needles. When you nodded, he put the backpack next to your bed. "It's only going to hurt a little," He said when he put on some latex gloves and grabbed one of the needles. "I need you to pull up your sleeve a bit,"
You did as you were told. You watched John stick the needle in your skin and the red liquid flow in the little tube.
"So tell me, do you have family that can pick you up? Friends?" John asked when he was done.
You shook your head. "I am afraid no one knows I am here,"
"So you have nowhere to stay?" John asked. You shook your head.
"There is a hotel down the road from here, I can call them for you if you want," John offered.
You thought about that. You had money in your purse, you knew, but you wondered if your cards were going to work in another world. Then again, it was worth a try. "Yes please," You asked after a while.
John nodded. "Good. Get some rest, I'll check up on you in a few hours,"

You slipped under the covers and closed your eyes, thinking about the days to come.

Chapter Text

Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked around the room. Where were you? Then you remembered. The hospital. It was dark outside, and the room was quiet. Your eyes fell on the clock. 4 a.m. "I must've been very tired," You muttered.
Your eyes fell on your bag, and you silently stepped out of your bed and walked to it. You grabbed your copy of The Hobbit and started reading.

"You're up early," John entered the room, just after you'd finished reading the part when the dwarves arrived in Rivendell. You had replayed your whole adventure in your head, and you were feeling quite homesick. Your eyes glanced at the clock. 5.45.
"Any pains in the stomach, or blood in the siliva or urine?" John asked. You shook your head.
"Did you stay here the whole night?" You asked.
"No, I went straight home after you'd fallen asleep," John explained. "I called the hotel around the corner here, The Rookery. They say they have a small room available for a reasonable price, would you be interested?"
You nodded. "Thanks so much,"
John smiled. "It's nothing," He looked at the book in your hands. "What are you reading?"
You handed him the book. "The Hobbit, by J.R.R.Tolkien," You said.
"Ah, I remember this book," John said. You lifted your eyebrows. "I bought it for my best friend, because he kept ruining the end of the books I was reading," John shook his head. "Prick," He smiled to himself. "He is convinced that there was a powder in the book that could give him the power to read things out of the book," John looked at you. "Crazy, I know. I blame the lack of sleep,"
Your mouth had fallen open, and you quickly closed it. "Weird! Yes, very crazy indeed," You said quickly. "Do you believe him?"
John laughed. "No, I don't. He showed me some stuff that was supposedly read out of a book, but I am pretty sure that he just needs a case,"
"A case?" You asked. You hoped to get a bit more information out of John about Sherlock.
"Yeah, like a..." John realised he had said a bit too much. "Like a... You know what? Never mind. I will call The Rookery to tell them you will be taking the room, and then I'll bring you there. Fresh yourself up a bit in the meantime, okay?" John said.
You nodded. "Okay," You answered. You waited for John to leave the room before stepping out of your bed. "So Sherlock himself read me here..." You mumbled. "But why?" It didn't make sense to you. Sherlock didn't even know who you were.
You changed into your comfortable jeans and top, and went to the little bathroom to brush your teeth. Once you were done, you checked your bag if everything was still there. Your eye fell on a small package, wrapped in cloth.
"I don't remember this," You said as you slowly took it out your bag. You unwrapped the cloth. "Oh Bilbo..." You whispered. It was a small sketchbook, with the words 'For the beautiful Durin Daughter' written on it. In it were sketches of you. One, where you were eating with the dwarves in Bilbo's house, another one with you and Thunder. A tear rolled down your cheek. There were many more pictures, and they were all carefully sketched to get every detail right. "He never told me he could draw that well," You whispered. You smiled through your tears.
"Are you okay?"
You looked up to see John standing in the doorway. You quickly wiped your tear away with your sleeve and smiled. "Yeah, I am fine," You answered. You picked up your bag and put it on your shoulder.

John lead you outside, where he walked you to The Rookery. It was a small hotel, with antique furniture and paintings all over the hotel.
"Don't get run over by a truck again," John smiled.
"I won't," You smiled back. You shook his hand. "Thank you, Dr. Watson,"
"It's my job," John said. "I am glad I could help," John smiled before he turned around and walked away.

-------

"It's a bit small, but it will do," You said as you stepped into your room. The little space was just big enough for a bed and a tiny bathroom.
"Oh, great! I can shower while I am peeing," You said when you explored the bathroom. You threw your bag down on the bed and took out your clothes. You only had one extra pair of jeans and a shirt. You looked in your purse. "I need to see if my cards work," You mumbled. You were in need of new clothes. "Time to breathe in London again," You said to yourself. You grabbed your purse and went outside.

------

"Nothing," Sherlock murmured. "Nothing, nothing, NOTHING!" He kicked the table in fury, something he'd not normally do but he had seen John do it many times. Bad idea. He limped to the couch and draped himself over it. "I need a CASE!" Sherlock shouted. He was pretty sure the whole of Baker Street had heard him, but he didn't care. The reading hadn't worked. He was sure of it. Sherlock had grown tired of waiting. With a groan he sat up. If he couldn't do something right this second, he was sure his head was going to explode. When he was just about to get up to make himself another cup of tea, his phone rang.
"George," Sherlock said when he picked up the phone. "I need a case. Tell me you've got one,"
"It's Greg," The voice on the other side said. "And yes. Something very not possible happened. Come to Scotland Yard. Now. Please,"
"Will be there in five," Sherlock replied. Finally! He hung up and put on his coat and scarf, wondering what had happened this time.

Chapter Text

"Fire in Muji. You know the store, not far from here? Sells stationary," Lestrade explained. "Paper books, obviously. Very flammable. Someone must've dropped a cigarette, or something,"
Sherlock frowned. "What does that have to do with me, if you wanted someone to be impressed with your conclusion you have clearly chosen the wrong person."
"That is not it! The fire started in front of the exit, and grew really fast. No one could get in or get out, the door had been closed because of the cold," Lestrade explained.
"And of course your fellow colleagues couldn't do anything to save the people, and they all died. The end! Now if you will excuse me, I really should be on my way," Sherlock gracefully turned around and was about to leave the room, when Sally Donovan came running in. She looked at Sherlock in disgust.
"Oh hello there, freak," She spoke. "Sir, we have witnesses that took pictures of the girl," She told Lestrade. She quickly glanced at Sherlock. "Don't tell me he is helping us find her,"
"He is, once he bloody listens to me," Lestrade said irritated. "A girl, Sherlock. A girl saved all the people trapped in the store. She kicked in the door and ran through the flames to get everyone out,"
"And she ran away before you could question her? How? She would've been wounded. And heroes love every bit of attention they can get,"
"Apparently she was fine. If she hadn't been there and people would've called 911, they would've come too late," Lestrade said. "The fire would've killed her or at least wounded her, but people say she didn't have a scratch. She left soon after the event,"
"So why find her? What is she for use to you?" Sherlock asked.
"We did some calculations, and we came to a conclusion that even an adult wouldn't have survived it! She went back into that store 9 times. 9 times, Sherlock! You know that isn't possible,"
Sherlock's eyes lit up. "Don't put your people into it, she will surely not be found that way. Homeless network, they will find her under an hour. Send the pictures to my phone," Sherlock said while he walked out the door.
"Oh, I hate it when he does that," Lestrade murmured. "Where are the pictures?" He asked Sally.
"What, you are not going to listen to that creep, are you?" Sally looked at him. "He only does it for himself, and you know it,"
"I know. But God help me, but we need him. Now, where are the pictures?"
"The witnesses who took them, you mean," Sally corrected him. "I'll let them in,"

------

"A girl. Ran into a burning store 9 times to save the people trapped.
Not a scratch. She left soon after the event.
Any ideas?
SH"

Sherlock send the message to John. He was waiting for Lestrade, but in the meantime he decided he should go down and check the store for himself. After a 3 minute walk he arrived at the store. The firemen had finished putting the fire out, and reporters were collecting around the commotion like flies on fresh meat. Sherlock's phone made a noise.

"Did she take bath salt? It tends to make people much stronger.
I can't think right now, I am working.
JW"

"Work, dull," Sherlock muttered. He saw some of the victims stand near an ambulance with shock blankets. 12 people in total, Sherlock counted. He went to stand a bit closer so that he could observe the people better.
"A penny for the homeless, sir," One of his homeless network stood at the street corner. There, finally the pictures from Lestrade. He walked to the street corner to see who it was. Great. Maggie, one with a phone. He scrabbled something on a piece of paper he found in his pocket and wrapped a £10 note around it.
"I'll text you the details," Sherlock whispered as he handed her the money. Maggie nodded.
"A girl? What is Lestrade talking about? That is clearly a young woman," Sherlock spoke to himself as he examined the pictures. "In the pictures she is walking towards the crossing," Sherlock murmured. "Her clothes are pretty burned, but she isn't. A woman's natural instinct would be to go home and change," He needed John with him, talking to himself attracted too much attention. "Taxi!" He shouted. "221B Baker Street, please," He told the cabbie. Sherlock was relying on his homeless network to give him information.

------

"There are no more patients for you for today John, you've done more than enough," Sarah said. "Get some rest, you've worked very hard,"
John nodded. "Thank you," He got up from his desk and put on his coat. He knew that if he were to go home, he wouldn't get any rest. Apparently Sherlock had a case again, and John knew that Sherlock always managed to do some kind of job for him. John stood in the empty hallway for some time, deciding what he should do.

"Hi there. I am looking for John Watson," John heard a voice say. He looked around, and saw a young woman standing by the receptionist. He recognised her almost immediately.
"Sora?" He asked. The young woman turned around, and her face softened.
"Oh, I am so glad I found you. I have a problem. I was-" You told John, but he cut you off.
"What happened to your clothes?"John asked.
"I am telling you," You explained. "I was in a fire, and I dropped my purse. Everything gone, cards, money, everything," You looked at yourself. There were holes in your shirt, and your arms were dirty with dust. Your hair smelled of smoke. "I paid the hotel already for one day, but without my money I can't do a thing," You looked at John. "I don't know anyone here, except you. Could you maybe... help me? I have no idea of what I am supposed to do,"
John looked at you. "The poor thing," He thought. "First driven over by a truck, and now this,"
John smiled. "You know what? You can stay with me in my flat so long, until we have found you a proper place to stay. Is that fine?"
Your eyes lit up. This was better than you could've hoped. "Yes please!" You smiled.
"Good, I was just going home. Let's get your stuff and go," John said.

You nodded and smiled. This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

After having grabbed your bag from the hotel, you and John went to the main road to hail a cab.
"So, where is your flat?" You asked. Of course you knew the answer, but you wanted to hear the words from John himself.
"221B Baker Street," John answered. "I have a flatmate, my friend I told you about. His name is Sherlock Holmes, you might have heard about him,"
"Yes," You smiled. "The consulting detective, right?"
John nodded. "He is a prick sometimes. Well, most of the time," John paused. "He thinks most people are boring and stupid. Don't take it personally,"
You shook your head. You watched the people on the streets, minding their own business. You wondered if anyone knew that they where in a story, not in the real world. But then again, what was the real world? As far as you knew, they all felt really real.

Once arrived at 221B Baker Street, John showed you his room.
"You can sleep here, I'll take the couch," John spoke.
"Don't be silly," You replied. "I am taking the couch. I insist,"
"Are you sure? Sherlock sometimes plays violin in the morning and-"
"I insist," You repeated. "You have to go to work tomorrow, you are the one who should be getting a good night's rest," You walked back down the stairs and stepped into the living room.
It was like another dream come true. You slowly walked to the couch, observing every with of the the flat. The scull. Sherlock's violin. Everything was there, and you had to pinch yourself to see if it was all not a dream.
"Shall I make you some tea?" John asked. You nodded as you placed your bag next to the couch and sat down.

-----

"Baker Street now. I know you have finished working.
Could be dangerous.
-SH "

Sherlock send the text. He paid the cabby and stepped outside. No news from his homeless network yes, but it was just a matter of time before the pictures were send to every branch of his network.
Sherlock opened the door, but stood still in his tracks and sniffed. Or Mrs Hudson had acquired a very young friend, or John had pulled home a new girlfriend again. Sherlock thought the latter. He sighed dramatically and walked up the stairs. He had to get John out of there, and fast. He couldn't bare the thought of another stupid, empty minded creature roaming in their flat again. He peeked though the kitchen door. John was busy making tea, with two cups. His back was facing Sherlock. Sherlock quietly opened the door and sneaked behind John. He quickly covered John's mouth with his hand and wanted to drag the shorter man to the hallway, but he had underestimated John's strength.
In one simple movement, Sherlock was lying with his back on the kitchen table, with John holding him down. When John realized that it was Sherlock, his grip relaxed a bit.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" John whispered loudly.
"Doing you a favour," Sherlock whispered back.
"I don't need your favours. Don't you have a case? I thought you'd be out for a while," John spoke.
"What, so you could snuggle with your newly acquired girlfriend? Oh, don't look at me like I don't know- It's obvious,"
"So far as I know I don't have a girlfriend," John hissed. "She is a patient of mine, and she needed somewhere to stay,"
"Oh, did she?" Sherlock looked at John. "You offered her your bed, but she declined. Why would she decline? She is clearly not into you after all," Sherlock carried on.
"She is not my bloody girlfriend!" John spoke perhaps a bit too loudly. John glanced at the living room, but it seemed that you hadn't heard him speak. John took a deep breath. "Now, go and introduce yourself," John nodded towards the living room. He picked up the two cups of tea and shoved Sherlock out of the kitchen.

"Sora, this is my flatmate, Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, this is one of my patients, Sora," John introduced you. He was waiting for Sherlock to a) deduce the poor girl, or b) insult her, but nothing came.
You looked at Sherlock and smiled. "Nice to meet you, Sherlock," You said. Sherlock frowned and took out his phone.
"John, you are a genius,"
"I am?" John said surprised. Why on earth would Sherlock suddenly say that?
"No, of course not." Sherlock dragged one of the chairs from the table and put it opposite you. "You saved 12 people from a burning store and left the scene as soon as you saved everyone. You have no wounds. An adult would not have survived that amount of heat and smoke. So, how?"
You blinked. "Excuse me?"
Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. "How did you save all those people without hurting yourself?"
"I-" You stammered. "I don't know. I just did it,"
John put down the two cups. "May I please know what on earth is going on here?"
"Remember the text I send you?" Sherlock asked.
"About the girl... that ran into a burning store?" John's eyes went wide. "Oh, Oh! So, that's her? The fire girl?" John looked at you. "Are you?" He asked.
You nodded. "I couldn't just let them die,"
"No, of course you couldn't," Sherlock leaned closer. "That is the only thing you care about, about other people. What they think about you. No matter how many times they hurt you, you will always care for them. But one day, you will break. You know how much they can hurt you with just a few words. But still, you continue to care for them like nothing happened. And you let them continue treating you like dirt. You say nothing though, because you know what it is like to be hurt," Sherlock paused. "You have barely received any love or care in your life. You tell yourself that you hate your parents, but deep down you know you could never hurt them. You barely have any friends, and live a solitary life. You love reading and writing, so that you can escape into other worlds, and forget the cruel world for a bit. But pain demands to be felt, and you feel it, every day. You carry it with you on your shoulders, and- John, what is she doing?"
A tear rolled down your cheek, and another, and another. You didn't make any noise, you just took out a tissue and cried silently. It was true what Sherlock had said. You felt the pain. It had been gone when you had found part of your real family, Thorin, Fili and Kili. there you had acquired real friends who had cared for you. Just thinking about it made you cry even more. It felt good, letting it go.
"She is crying, Sherlock. I think you should stop talking now," John answered Sherlock's question. He had never seen Sherlock deduce like that. Sherlock always deduced the outside, the shell of a person. This time he had deduced the inside. John wondered how he could do that.
You grabbed your cup of tea, and slowly drank it. You looked up at Sherlock, who still sat opposite you in his chair.
"It's true," You said. "Thank you,"
"Thank you for what?" Sherlock answered.
"For proving a point," You replied.
"What point?" John spoke.
"For proving that Sherlock Holmes has feelings," You answered.

Chapter Text

Sherlock's mouth opened, but no words came out. John looked at Sora in amazement. He didn't know how she'd done it or what she'd meant by that Sherlock proved that he had feelings, but he found it quite amusing. For once, Sherlock Holmes was shut up.
Sherlock got out of his chair and left the room abruptly.
"Ah," John laughed. "How... did you see that? You were the first one to actually make Sherlock go completely silent!" John shook his head. "How did you do that?"
You smiled. "It's all very obvious, John. Do you remember what he said to me?"
"What, that whole long thing about that you care about people, and that they will hurt you?" John guessed.
"He said I have barely received any love or care in my life, that I tell myself that I hate my parents, and that I barely have any friends, and live a solitary life,'" You repeated.
"So?" John asked.
"Doesn't that remind you a bit of someone?" You asked. You were trying to be patient with John, but it was so blatantly obvious that you weren't surprised that Sherlock sometimes got annoyed.
"I..." John's eyes widened. "Of course!" He said. "How could I not have seen that?" John chuckled. "He was describing himself..."
You smiled sadly. "He never deduces the way people feel, because he only knows the emotions that he has felt, and he suppresses most of them," You paused. "But something made him see the emotions he had felt in me. I don’t know how he saw, though,"
"He is Sherlock," John answered. "No one knows,"
You chuckled. "That is true. Do you think he’ll come back?"
"Not in a while," John replied. "He does that sometimes, when he is upset. He acts just like a little child,"
You smiled. "I hope the next meeting will go a little different,"
"With Sherlock? Of course," John smiled back. "But, so you really saved 12 people out of a burning store?"
You nodded. "I was just strolling through the street because I wanted to buy some new clothes, and then I saw smoke and then my instincts kind of took over,"
"But how come you didn’t get hurt?" John sat down next to you on the couch. "No one could’ve survived that without getting hurt,"
"I don’t know," You said. "It is a mystery to me. My clothes caught flame, but my hair and the rest of my body didn’t,"
"Hm," John frowned. "Do you have any other clothes to wear? Or do you want me to go to the Primark and buy you something?"
"I have my PJ’s," You replied. "I’ll change into them so long. If you could do that that would be great, but only if you want to! You have done so much for me already,"
"Hey, you are the first one to keep Sherlock Holmes quiet, I think it will be a good idea to have you around for a while longer," John winked. "You always could wear one of my coats and come along,"
"Okay," You stood up from the couch and looked at yourself. "48 hours in London, and I have been driven over by a truck, met John Watson, saved 12 people from a fire, and met Sherlock Holmes," You thought. "Can it get any crazier?"

———

He’d said too much.

Why did it feel so weird?

He’d always kept his feelings compressed.

For no one to see, not even himself.

Feelings distracted him. He couldn’t think properly with them.

Sherlock was in his favourite thinking spot, Leicester Gardens. He had read the woman from the inside. He saw the sadness in her eyes when he first made eye contact to her, the same eyes he’d seen in the mirror so many times. It didn’t make sense. No one else was supposed to feel like that.
That meant that she could feel what he was feeling, and Sherlock didn’t want that.
She would still be there if he went home, and that would cause an unwanted conversation with either John or her. Sora, that was her name.
He knew she would be staying for longer than a day.
Sherlock shook his head. He never thought about people’s feelings.
"How did she manage to save those people unscratched?" Sherlock asked himself. That was the only question that mattered, really, he told himself. He knew that it still would be a long time before he would return to 221b Baker Street, so he was determined to solve the riddle.

Chapter Text

John looked at you on the couch. "Are you sure you are comfortable?" He asked. He had gone with you to Primark to get you some new clothes, and you had succeeded quite nicely. After that you'd helped him make a soup which you had eaten on the same couch you were lying on now.
You nodded. "Yeah, thanks," You snuggled deeper in the blanket John had given you.
John nodded. "I'll be upstairs if you need me. Sherlock might come home in the middle of the night, so don't be afraid when he comes in,"
"Okay," You said. "Night, John,"
John smiled. "Goodnight," He whispered as he closed the door behind him.

--*Three hours later*--

You checked your phone and sighed. It was 1 AM, and you couldn't fall asleep. You put your phone down and shifted a bit to get comfortable, but you stopped when you heard a noise.
The door opened with a soft creak. You heard someone step inside and close the door behind them. You lay as still as a mouse, but relaxed a bit when you remembered it was probably Sherlock.

"It's you, isn't it," Sherlock's voice was soft. He walked to the couch, and you sat up.
"What do you mean," You asked.
"Oh, stop pretending," Sherlock took a book out of his coat. It was dark, but you could clearly see the name: The Hobbit. "The one I read out. Who are you?"
"Why did you do it?" You spoke, ignoring the question.
"Just experimenting," Sherlock lied. "You arrived quicker than I expected."
"That is all?" You asked. "You brought me here to see if it would work?"
"I was going to ask questions, of course," Sherlock answered. "Your name does not get named in the book, so you must be some dwarf who looks like a human," He couldn't do it. Sherlock looked at her and narrowed his eyes. He could not deduce the girl from the outside.
"Sora Durin," You answered. "My name. Daughter of Thorin Oakenshield. Nice to meet you,"
"Thorin Oakenshield did not have a daughter. Or any children, for that matter," Sherlock said. "He had two nephews, Fili and Kili,"
"That's what I thought too," You spoke. Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "But-"
"Let me start from the beginning," You sighed. You couldn't sleep anyway, so you didn't mind telling the story again. "It all began when a girl in my class, Sophie, asked for my ex's number.."

-----

You woke up from the sounds of a violin. You opened your eyes, and was blinded by the harsh light. The curtains and windows were wide open, and the sunlight shone through it like golden lines. You sat up and rubbed your eyes. You vaguely remembered telling Sherlock the whole story until you were to tired to continue. You checked your phone. "Already 11 in the morning?" You thought. "I must've been tired,"
You looked around the room. Sherlock was playing his violin at the window, the sweet sounds nearly singing you back to sleep. You shook your head and stood up. You walked to the kitchen, where you found John making scrambled eggs.
"I thought you had to go to work today," You said to John. "Morning, by the way,"
"I am working, just not at the hospital," He handed you a cup of tea. "I am caring for one of my patients right now,"
You smiled. "Thank you, Dr. Watson," You drank the tea gratefully.
"If you want to take a bath, you have to go through that door," John showed you. "The warm water takes a while to heat up, so just be patient,"
"Thanks. I will definitely take one just now," You spoke. You turned around and glanced at Sherlock. You had made a deal with him that you would not tell anyone about who you really where, except John. It was best to eliminate the number of people who knew about other worlds and beings.
Sherlock hadn't been surprised upon hearing that there were other worlds. Instead, he had asked a lot of questions. Where hobbits really that small? Did the dwarves look like the ones Tolkien described? Was Gandalf powerful? You had promised to show him some sketches you'd made of the dwarves in proper daylight. From the way Sherlock had talked you could tell that it was one of his favourite books. He knew every thing about it, it seemed, like he had memorised the book word for word.

"Knock knock!" A middle aged woman came walking in. "Mrs Hudson," You thought.
"John, do you have some sugar I can please use? I am baking a pie and- Oh hello there dear," Mrs Hudson said.
"Mrs Hudson, this is my friend and patient, Sora," John introduced you. "Sora, this is Mrs Hudson, our landlady,"
"Nice to meet you, Mrs Hudson," You greeted her.
"Nice to meet you too, Sora. Are the boys treating you nicely?" Mrs Hudson smiled. "Sherlock hasn't had a proper case in a few days now," She said a bit softer. "I hope he finds one soon, to cheer him up a little. He has been playing the violin since 6 in the morning,"
You smiled back. "I hope so too,"
"You wanted sugar, Mrs Hudson?" John handed her a packet.
"Oh thank you dear, I will return what is left as soon as possible," Mrs Hudson smiled and left the room.

"I am going to take a bath," You announced. You grabbed your clothes and entered the bathroom. You hadn't had a bath in ages.

Chapter Text

"What are you reading?" John asked you. You were sitting on the couch with a cup of tea, reading a book.
"Not too sure, actually," You laughed. "I just took a book out of your bookcase,"
"It's probably Sherlock's," John smiled. You smiled back and continued reading your book.
"Hello?" You looked up. John was on his phone, talking to someone. You could see his face drop.
"Oh, yes of course, I'll be there immediately," John hung up. "I am sorry," He said to you. "Emergency at the hospital. They need my help," John grabbed his coat. "Sherlock is in his room. I'll be back for dinner,"
You nodded. "Good luck!" You wished him before he walked out the door.

-----
Sherlock was in his mind palace. He needed a case, and a good one too. He was bored out of his mind. He needed to solve something, and quickly.
A bleeping sound echoed through the room. Sherlock grabbed his phone, and looked at the message. Good, a message from Lestrade.

"Missing person, Stuart Hamlyn. Vanished just days before his wedding to Emily Wilder. Please will you help? GL"

Finally! No murder, but it was better then nothing. Sherlock jumped up and walked out of the room. "John, get up. There is a case-" Sherlock looked around the living room. No trace of John. You were sitting on the couch, looking at Sherlock.
"John went out a few minutes ago," You said. "The hospital called. They needed him,"
Sherlock shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to drag her along, especially to a case.
But then again, sculls just attracted attention.
Sherlock put on his coat. "Coming?"
Your eyes widened. "What? Me? Where are we going?"
"There is a new case. If you are to live with us for a while, you better make yourself useful," He grabbed his scarf and walked out the door. You quickly got up, grabbed the coat you'd brought and followed him.
Sherlock had already hailed a cab when you got outside. You walked a bit faster and sat next to Sherlock in the cab.
"So are we going to Scotland Yard?" You asked Sherlock. Sherlock just sighed and looked out the window.
"Well this is going to be fun," You thought. "Why did he even bring me?"

Once arrived at Scotland Yard you followed Sherlock up the stairs. He was greeted by a man just a little shorter than Sherlock. "Lestrade," You murmured.
"Who is this?" Lestrade asked when he saw you. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
"She is with me," Sherlock said quickly. "Now, tell me more about the case,"
"Stuart Hamlyn, engaged to Emily Wilder, disappeared a week before their wedding. Emily is distraught and wont talk to the police. I thought John might be able to, but..." Lestrade looked at you.
"I'll do it," You offered. "Just tell me what to do,"
"Go to Emily's house and talk to her. Get as much information as you can get. If you get invited into her house, see if there is anything important," Sherlock ordered. "Text me once you are done. Here is my number," Sherlock handed you a little card with a phone number written on it. "Where did Stuart work?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.
"The Westminster Reference Library," Lestrade answered.
"I will go there, ask around and see if there was any female influence that might have caused the disappearance of Stuart so closely before his wedding," Sherlock wanted to walk away, but you stopped him.
"I don't have any cash for the cabs," You said softly. "May I please lend some? I promise I will pay you back every pound,"
Sherlock sighed and pulled out £100. He gave the note to you and walked off.
You turned to Lestrade. "Where does Emily Wilder live?" You asked.
"22 High Slope St." Lestrade replied after checking. "I hope you find him,"
"I hope so too," You smiled and walked away to get a cab.

Once arrived at 22 High Slope St, you rang the doorbell. A woman, blond and by the looks of it in her late thirties, opened the door.
"Hello there!" You said. "I am Sora Durin, one of the private police woman in Scotland Yard. I wanted to please ask some questions about Stuart Hamlyn,"
The woman looked like she was about to cry. She took a few deep breaths and then shook your hand. "Emily Wilders, Stuart's fiancée. Come inside,"

"So, when did you find out that he was gone?" You asked. You were in Emily's living room, on her couch.
"He vanished 6 days ago and he hasn't been home or to the library he works since then," Emily answered.
"And what was he like, Stuart?" You spoke.
"He was such a thoughtful type, always reading philosophy or daydreaming about the future. Our future. We were getting married last week and my father spend every last penny on the ceremony. It was going to be beautiful, with white doves and-" Emily closed her eyes and a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Hey, it's okay, I swear I will help to find out where Stuart is. We've got our best men onto it," You stroke her back gently.
Emily nodded. "Please keep me updated,"
"Of course I will! I will let you know if we find anything that might lead us to him. In the meantime, don't be too stressed. Everything will be okay," You gave Emily one last pat on her back and stood up. "I need to go now, Thank you so much for your time,"
"Thank you for your help, Officer," Emily smiled a little. She opened the door for you. "I hope you will find him,"
You turned to her. "I hope so too,"

Chapter Text

Just before you walked out the door, you remembered one of the tasks Sherlock had given you. You quickly spun around.
"Sorry, I don't even have your number. Will you please write your number down for me please?" You asked Emily Wilders. Emily nodded and went back inside. You saw a coat that was clearly a man's and dug into the pockets. You took out everything and stuffed it in your own pocket.
Just in time.
"This is my number," Emily walked to you and handed you a little card. "Thank you again, officer. Have a good day,"
"You too," You stepped outside and walked to the nearest tube station. You examined what you had found in Stuart's pocket. Some coins, and a piece of paper.
"Laybridge betting places," You read. "Harry's Total, £500 loss," You frowned. "That is a big bet and a big loss," You mumbled. "So he was into betting?" You took a picture of the paper and send it to Sherlock.

"Stuart vanished 6 days ago and he hasn't been home or to the library he works since then, according to Emily. Her father spend every last penny on the ceremony, and then she started crying. The paper is what I found in one of Stuart's coats, along with some coins. It appears that he placed a big bet on something and then lost. Any ideas? -SD"

You pressed send and waited for Sherlock to answer. Two minutes later, your phone vibrated.

"Stuart liked betting on horses. That bet was placed at a bookmakers' in Queensway. Far from work and home. Find out what he was doing there.
SH"

You shook your head. How could he figure out where the bet was placed in such a short amount of time? You bought a ticket to Queensway Station and got onto the tube. You had no idea what to do once you got there. Was it even important? You sighed and looked at the paper again. "Harry's Total," You thought. Was it a shop? You sighed and typed Emily's number into your phone. "Oh of course, no service," You locked your phone and stuffed it into your pocket.
--
Once arrived in Queenstown you went looking for the bookmaker Sherlock was talking about. You quickly found him, as it said "Bookie Bookmakers" in big red letters above the shop. You entered and walked to the counter.

"What can I do for you, Miss?" The guy behind the counter said.
"Does the name Stuart Hamlyn sound familiar to you?" You asked. "He made this bet here," You showed the man a piece of paper.
"Yes, I do," The man looked at the piece of paper. "Tall fellow, brown hair. He came in a few weeks ago. He was one of them amateur betters- You know, nervous. Sweated all through the race, then looked all shocked when he lost. He hasn't been back since. Probably for the best..."
You nodded. "And this name, Harry's Total? What does that mean?"
"That was the name of the horse he betted on," The man said. "The horses have quite unique names,"
"You don't say," You smiled. "Thank you for your help!" You turned around and walked out the shop.
"Well that didn't help at all," You murmured. You got out your phone and dialled Sherlock's number.

"Why are you calling me," Was the first thing Sherlock said when he picked up.
"Its about Stuart. Nothing here in Queenstown, only that he was very nervous and sweated all the way through the race. Have you gotten anywhere at the library?" You spoke.
"Stuart might well have washed up somewhere. You'd better check up with Lestrade," Sherlock said, ignoring your question.
"But what about- Hello? Sherlock?" Sherlock had hung up on you. You sighed, and went back to the metro station.
--
"You say he was a gambler?" Lestrade asked you. You were back at Scotland Yard.
"Yes," You answered. "Although this is only one bill,"
"Maybe he borrowed money from the wrong people," Lestrade thought out loud. "Anyway, he hasn't turned up in the morgue- yet. He hasn't used his passport or his bank account for six days, but it could be that he ran off with someone and he or she is paying his way,"
"Could be," You answered. "Has Sherlock gotten anywhere with the library yet? He completely ignored my question earlier on today,"
"He hasn't spoken to me," Lestrade said. "Maybe you should go to the library and check for yourself,"
"Yeah," You sighed. "Thanks," You turned around and headed for the Westminster Reference Library.
--
"Hi, did Stuart Hamlyn work here?" You asked the lady at the reception.
"Are you from the police? Another person asked that same question just a bit earlier," The woman replied.
"Yes, we... work together," You answered. So Sherlock had been here already.
"We hope you find Stuart. He was much the baby around here, you see? Everyone adored him. He was always daydreaming in the Philosophy shelves... Feel free to look in his locker if it might be helpful," The lady said.
"Yes, thank you," You answered. The lady escorted you to the lockers.
"Its that one over there," The lady pointed. "Good luck, dear," She said as she walked out the room.
You looked in the locker and found Stuart's working clothes, and another bill.
"High Digger, £1000 loss," You read. You took out the other bill, and placed it next to the new one. "Oh!" Your eyes widened. "He loved philosophy..." You murmured. "It is starting to make sense now," You went back to the counter. "Do you by any change have a copy of the Racing Mail?" You asked.
"Yes, but it is mine," The lady answered.
"It doesn't matter, I just need to look at something," The lady handed you the magazine and you paged through it until you got to the result pages. "Results from six days ago..." You murmured. "Number one, Play Toe," You laughed. "Ha! I think I solved the case!"
"2 minutes and 36 seconds," A voice behind you said. You turned around and saw Sherlock standing behind you. "It took you 2 minutes and 36 seconds to solve the case from when you entered this building," Sherlock smiled quickly and looked down.
"So... you'd already solved it? Why didn't you tell me?" You asked.
"I wanted to see how you would do, and this proved a point," Sherlock answered.
"What point?" You spoke.
"That you are not boring," Sherlock grabbed his phone. "We better tell Lestrade that Emily shouldn't be expecting Stuart to come back for the wedding. Also, we need John to let Emily know. He is medically trained in breaking bad news,"
You smiled. It seemed like you had earned Sherlock's respect.

Chapter Text

"But it doesn't make sense," Lestrade said. You were back at Scotland Yard with Sherlock. "How did you figure it all out by just looking at the bills?" Lestrade looked at Sherlock, who nodded at you.
"It was actually quite easy," You answered. "Stuart's fiancée and the woman at the library both mentioned one important thing: he loved philosophy. Stuart was betting on horses, and all gamblers like to think that they have a system,"
"You sound like you have experience," Lestrade noted.
"My dad," You spoke. He would always drink and gamble. Not on horses though, but in poker," you thought about what you just had said. "Well, not my real dad. But anyway, as I was saying, they all like to think they have a system. Stuart's system was that he was picking horses named after philosophers," You explained. Lestrade frowned.
"Houw on earth is Harry's Total a philosopher," He asked.
"Say it slowly," You spoke. "Harry's Total becomes Aristotle. High Digger becomes Heidiger, and Play Toe obviously becomes..."
"Plato," Lestrade finished your sentence and nodded. "Very clever, you two. There is just one last thing that is bothering me," Lestrade paused. "Why did Stuart leave his fiancée, Emily? Why not come back with the money?"
"That is also not totally clear to me," You looked at Sherlock.
"Its obvious," Sherlock started. "It's exactly the reason why he wanted to marry her. For the money. Her family was rich, you've seen her banking details and Sora has seen her house. When her dad blew all the money on the ceremony, his plan fell into the water. A job at the library doesn't earn much. When the day of the wedding came closer and closer, Stuart started making bets, each one higher than the first. When the last one came in at 150-1 six days ago, he was finally rich," Sherlock explained quickly. He turned around. "Come, Joh- Sora," Sherlock called when he walked away. You wanted to follow him, but Lestrade stopped you.
"He never acts like this towards someone, except John. I don't knew how, but you have earned his respect. Don't waste it,"
You nodded. "Thanks, Greg," You smiled and followed Sherlock.
"Where are we going now?" You asked once you'd caught up with Sherlock.
"Baker Street," Sherlock answered. His phone made a noise. With irritation, Sherlock pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked it. "Change of plan. Come," Sherlock looked around and sprinted off.
"Hold on- wait!" You watched Sherlock run away. "Really.." You muttered. Why couldn't he just get a cab? You ran after him and soon were running next to him. "Why on earth are we running?" You asked.
"Shut up and run," Sherlock answered. He ran into a small alley. You followed him.
"What on earth is going on," You thought. You followed Sherlock further, nearly getting run over by a car and falling on your face in the process.
At last, Sherlock stopped in a little park.
"What was that all about?" You spoke, a bit out of breath. Sherlock looked at you, breathing heavily.
"Interesting," Was all he said.
"Hello? Any change that you'll answer my questions anytime soon?" You asked.
Sherlock handed you his phone. "Lestrade's message," He said simply. He looked around and sat down on one of the park benches. You opened Lestrade's message.
"I knew she seemed familiar! I need her back at my office, now. -GL." You read. "Why does he- oh never mind, the fire incident," you paused. "Who do they still want me for that?"
Sherlock didn't answer. Instead, he stood up and turned up his collar.
"In for round two?" He asked.
You shook your head and smiled. When were you ever going to get an answer out of this man? "Last one to Baker Street is an Anderson!" You called before you ran off.
------
Eventually it was Sherlock who reached the door first. "Anderson," he grinned when you arrived just seconds later. "Shut up," you smiled. You both went inside and walked up the stairs to the living room. You removed your jacket and threw I to. The couch. "Want some tea?" You asked. Sherlock nodded.
"Milk and sugar, please,"
You boiled the water and poured in two cups. You got the milk out of the fridge, ignoring the mushy flesh-like things that were in a plastic packet next to it.
"Here," you placed the cup in front of Sherlock after you'd put the milk and sugar in. Sherlock was clicking through various emails behind his laptop.
"Probably cases," You thought. You sat down on the couch and picked up the book you were reading.
After realising that after fifteen minutes you'd read the same paragraph a hundred times, you decided to do something else. Sherlock was still clicking though emails. You sat silently while you watched his face, the sound of the keyboard clicking the only one to be heard. A question popped into your head, a one you already knew the answer to. You wanted to ask Sherlock anyway.
"Why are you so antisocial towards people?" You asked.
Sherlock still looked at his computer screen when he answered. "I am antisocial because I don't like people," he continued clicking.
"That is only partly true," you said.
Click, click, click.
You decided to carry on. "You're antisocial because you don't want to hurt people. Because you are scared that when you like them they will hurt you when they leave. Because you have already been hurt, I can see it. That is why you put up your guard to hide yourself from everyone,"
Click, click, click. Sherlock didn't even look up.
"It could've been a girl, but that would've been very unlikely. Could've been a family member, but somehow that doesn't quite make sense," you studied Sherlock's eyes, which were still fixed on his computer screen.
Click, click, click.
"It was a pet, wasn't it," you said softly.
Click.
The clicking stopped.
You recalled a name, a name that had been spoken in the series, and had always caused a crack in Sherlock's mask.
"Redbeard, wasn't it," you said even softer. You saw Sherlock's face harden.
Sherlock went in his mind palace. He needed to block her out of his mind, and fast. Redbeard came running towards him. Sherlock didn't want to see him, didn't want to think about the day they had to put him down. She had stopped talking, but that made it even worse.
He needed to get away.
"If you knew the answer, then why did you ask me," Sherlock stood up from his desk, grabbed his coat and walked out the room.

Chapter Text

3 hours had passed, and Sherlock still hadn't returned. You wondered if saying your deduction had been such a good idea. You had been trying to become friends with Sherlock, after all. Although you much rather be more than friends... but you knew that was never going to happen.
Your stomach started to rumble, and you looked at your phone to check the time. 6.30. You had received a message from John.

"Sorry, won't be back for dinner tonight. There is some money in the left drawer of the desk, to get a takeaway. Hope to be there tomorrow! -JW”

You read. You sighed and got up to get the money.

Just as you wanted to call the pizza place down the road, you received another message, this time from Sherlock.

"Dinner? -SH"

You frowned. "I made him walk out of the room in annoyance," you thought. "Why is he asking me for dinner?" There was something behind this, you knew. You typed back.
"Where? John just texted me that he is not coming. -SD"

A few seconds later, you received a reply.

"I know exactly where John is. Come to Angelo's. -SH"

You put your coat on and went outside. It was raining a bit, and you stood still for a moment to feel the cold raindrops against your skin. It was slowly starting to get dark.! You went to the road and hailed a cab.
"To the restaurant Angelo's, please," You told the cabby. Within 15 minutes you arrived at the small and cosy restaurant.

"What will it be for you, lady? A table for two? Are you meeting someone here?" A big but friendly looking man asked you.
"I am meeting someone," You answered. "Sherlock Holmes, black curly hai-"
"Follow me," The man walked to a table where you saw Sherlock.

"You're two minutes late," Sherlock noted.
"Well, we never discussed a time, did we," You took off your coat and sat down. You were given a menu. The restaurant was quite full, and smelled lovely of Italian food. You smiled. "Anything on the menu, for you and your date. I'll get a candle for the table," The man said before walking off.
"I am not his date," You knew you were repeating John's lines, but you didn't care. You weren't his date, after all.
"So," You spoke. "Why dinner?"
Sherlock looked insulted. "Why not? I have been informed that people have to consume food in order to live,"
"You know that is not what I meant, Sherlock," You shook your head. "You already walked out of the room twice since my stay at Baker Street. So why invite me for dinner?"
"This is not about that," Sherlock answered.
The man, which you were later told was Angelo himself, came back with a candle. You ordered a pizza while Sherlock ordered a glass of water.
"Then what is it about?" you spoke when Angelo left.
"Look out of the window and tell me what you see," was Sherlock's answer.
You looked out of the window. "A street," You said. "And trees. And a building. Restaurant." There were big glass windows in the restaurant, allowing you to take a look at the other people. "And.. wait, is that John? With a date!"

"He is desperate, as usual. It is clearly the new nurse from work. Just moved here, so she doesn't know anyone yet. John took advantage of that, so to say. But sadly he always to manages to choose the one with the least brains," Sherlock complained.!
"Has he had many girlfriends?" You asked.
"First there was the doctor, then the one with the freckles, then the one with the nose, then the one with the rabbit teeth and then the one-"
"Okay, I get the point," You interrupted Sherlock. "So is this why you called me here? To show me John's new girlfriend?"
"I need you to date him," Sherlock said.
"WHAT?" You tried to keep your voice down. "Why?"
"So that he brings no more of those creatures home," Sherlock gestured towards John's date. "They're just like Anderson. Slow in the brain, and boring. I calculated that he is less likely to be productive on cases if he is... sexually frustrated,"
You couldn't believe your ears. "Do you want me to be John Watson's whore or something?" You whispered angrily.
"If that is the term that you prefer, then yes, I'd like you to be John's whore," Sherlock said like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"No way. No friggin way. I will not date John or be his own personal toy. If you know so much about how he is after sex, why not date him yourself?" You spoke through clenched teeth.
"I consider myself married to my work. I do not want any... intimate relationship with my flatmate,"
"Well, you'll have to find someone else," You said. Your pizza arrived.
Sherlock looked disappointed.

Chapter Text

That night, when you were lying on the couch, you thought about all that had happened to you. It was barely a month ago that you began this crazy adventure, but it had felt like a year. You thought about Thorin, Fili and Kili. They were your family. Your real family.
"I am half dwarf," You smiled. You wondered what the people who had adopted you would do upon hearing that. You didn't even know what to call them any more. Fake family? You'd never thought about them like family, so fake family sounded appealing.
"They would laugh at me," You whispered. "Eric would hit me, and shout at me for saying such stupid things,"
Eric had been the name that belonged to your 'dad' at the time. You never thought your life would change, especially not like this.
You missed the Dwarves. And Bilbo.
"I hope he is doing okay…" You spoke softly. You opened the little drawing book he had made for you. Although it was dark, you could still see the outlines of his drawings.
You smiled. And there was Sherlock. Even though he seemed to respect you more than others, you had experienced now that he didn't have a filter between his brain and his mouth. You knew that he was like that, that he was a sociopath, but a part of you refused to believe that he didn't care about what his words did to others.
"John's whore.." You shook your head. That had been too harsh. After Sherlock had mentioned that, you had eaten your pizza in silence. Sherlock didn't continue the conversation, something you highly appreciated.

You heard a soft thump coming from downstairs, and were awoken from your thoughts. "What the…" You sat up, and climbed out of your bed. "John," You thought. There, another thump. "Drunk, by the sound of it,"
You checked your phone. "1 a.m," You groaned. Another louder thump filled your ears. John had probably fallen while trying to climb up the stairs. Sherlock was in his room, of course, so you were the only one who could help the poor John. You walked to the stairs, where John was lying dramatically at the bottom. You sighed and walked down to him.
"John," You whispered loudly. You didn't want to wake Mrs Hudson.
"Hmmm?" John looked up at you. Well, tried to.
"Come on, lets get you to bed," You tried to help John up, but he slumped right down on the stairs. "Come on, John," You nudged him with your foot, but John just smiled at you dazedly.
John's mouth tried to form a word. "Yuuuu," He said, grabbing your hand.
"John, you are going to wake Mrs Hudson. Please just work along," You tried to free your hand, but John had a tight grip for a drunk guy.
"Yuuu," John tried again. "Yoouu arr beaautifffuu…" John's eyes closed, and his grip relaxed.
You tensed up. You knew very well what he was trying to say. "He is drunk," You reminded yourself. "He won't remember this in the morning," You hoped.
"Falling asleep? Here?" You spoke when you heard soft snoring. You shook your head. "Really, John?" You went to stand behind him. "It is a miracle that he got here in one piece," You muttered. "Okay. Lets try it this way," You hooked your arms under his shoulders.
"Okay. One, two, three... Nhggggh!" John was too heavy. You sighed deeply. It seemed that you'd have to leave John to his fate at the bottom of the stairs.
"Grab his arms, I'll grab his legs," Sherlock walked down the stairs. "He thought it would be a good idea to order wine with his date, and soon discovered that she was very fond of drinking," Sherlock examined John's wallet. "And she paid. For dinner and his taxi,"
You didn't want Sherlock's help. You didn't want to hear his brilliant deductions with his brilliant voice. You wanted to curse at him, hate him for just one second, but you found that you couldn't.
"Who lets the woman pay on the first date?" You said instead. You looked at John, who was snoring loudly. You tried not to thing about what John had tried to say. "Okay. You, legs. Me, arms." You hooked your arms underneath John's shoulders again.
You and Sherlock picked John up with great difficulty, but managed to get John into the living room.
"Okay, what now? There are more stairs to his bedroom," You spoke.
"Excellent deduction," Sherlock commented dryly.
"He can sleep on the couch," You nodded to your bed. "I can sleep in the chair,"
Sherlock nodded and picked up John's legs. Together you put John to bed.
"Take my bed," Sherlock said quickly.
"Are.. are you sure?" You weren't sure if you'd heard that right. It was a very unlike Sherlock thing to do.
"I don't sleep much," Was the only thing he said before he sat down in his chair.
"Well, thanks," You spoke. Night, Sherlock,"
You turned around and walked to Sherlock's room.

Unlike the rest of the house, Sherlock's room was surprisingly ordered. You sat down on the bed and looked around. It very simple, with one double bed, a drawer, a small bookcase and a picture on the wall.
"The periodic table of elements," You smiled. The whole room smelled of Sherlock. You lay down on the right side of the bed and closed your eyes.

That night you dreamed of Sherlock. You dreamed that he had cooked a meal for you, and that you ate it while watching crappy telly. Once you were done eating, he picked you up gently and carried you to his room. Suddenly, the scene changed and you were in your pyjamas in Sherlock's bed, his arms wrapped warmly around you. You sighed happily and hoped that the dream would last forever.

You opened your eyes. It was still dark, and you cursed yourself for waking up. No, you corrected yourself. You were still dreaming. Sherlock's arms were still wrapped around you. You could feel his body warmth, his breath slow and steady. You shifted a bit, and he hugged you closer.
You pinched yourself in your arm, and winced.

Chapter Text

When you woke up that morning, the other side of the bed was empty and made. "So it didn't happen.." You said to yourself, a bit dissapointed. You looked closer at the other side. There was a small, but obvious dent in the pillow. A part of you hung onto that, hoping that last night hadn't been a dream. You sighed and shook your head, remembering the night before. "Poor John," You thought. "I should probably check up on him," You climbed out of bed, and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. The sunlight shone brightly through the windows, making you smile. Today was going to be a good day.
You walked to the kitchen, your nose being filled with the delicious smell of eggs and bacon.
"Oh hello, my dear," Mrs Hudson greeted you. "Sherlock went out an hour ago, and asked me to take care of you two. Is everything all right? You look a bit pale," Mrs Hudson handed you a cup of coffee, which you gratefully accepted. "Let me fix you some breakfast. John is just taking a shower upstairs,"
You nodded. "I suppose I should do that as well," You turned around. "Thanks, Mrs Hudson," You thanked before walking to the bathroom.

After you got out of the shower, you threw on one of your new shirts you'd brought with John. It was plain black. "No," You corrected yourself when you looked in the mirror. Plain black with dark grey writing on it, which you only noticed now. "Don't look. See," You read. "Sounds like a shirt for Sherlock," You thought smiling. You put on your jeans and walked to the living room.
John was sitting at the table, hair still damp. He was clutching his cup of coffee in his hands like his life depended on it.
"Morning," You said when you sat down opposite him. John cast down his eyes.
"Oh, um, hi,"
There was a long pause.
"Sorry," John said eventually. "For last night. I didn't mean to-" He sighed. "That was very unprofessional of me,"
"It is fine," You assured him. "It happens to everyone at least once," You paused. "Otherwise, how was your date?"
"How did you..." John shook his head. "Never mind, it was probably in the fold of my shirt or something,"
"I am not Sherlock," You smiled. "I saw you, when I was having dinner with him. He had his complains about her,"
"Yeah. Of course," John paused. "Wait... You had dinner with Sherlock?
"Is that so weird? You had dinner with him on the first night you moved in with him," You spoke.
"Yes, but you're a woman.. How did you know that, by the way?" John pulled a face. "Ow, my head hurts. It's too early for these questions,"
You'd forgotten that John did not know about your story of how you had come into his world. You did know that this was the wrong moment to speak about it.
"I don't think Sherlock cares about gender," You replied. You walked to the cupboard to get the aspirins, who had the unfortunate location behind a preserved brain. You filled a glass of water and put it in front of John. "Drink," You slid the water towards him. "I will be caring for you today," John wanted to object, but you cut him off. "No buts. You are going to have a day of rest,"
John nodded. "Thanks,"
You ate the rest of your breakfast in silence, letting the events of last night enter your mind for the second time that day. John drunk. He wanting to call you beautiful. From the looks of it, he didn't remember anything, something that was probably for the best.
And then there was Sherlock sleeping in bed with you. "It was a dream," You reminded yourself. Only your heart wouldn't believe it.
"Did I do anything... Strange, last night?" John interrupted your thinking. "I only remember taking a cab, and then I woke up on the couch," John thought for a moment. "Wait a second.. Where did you sleep last night?"
You ignored John's last question. "You were lying on the bottom of the stairs, so Sherlock and I carried you to the couch," You explained. You were sleeping, so you didn't do anything weird,"
You got up and cleaned the table. John wanted to help, but you shook your head. "Get some rest, or read a book. No running around for you,"
John chuckled. "Wasn't planning on doing that,"

---------

You sighed. You were sitting on the couch, trying to draw Thorin. You just couldn't get his hair right, the way it flowed down his shoulders and the complicated braids. You could see it all in your head, the way he flicked it out of his face when it was annoying him, or the way it waved in the wind. You wondered if you had inherited his hair.
Your phone buzzed. You picked it up, and saw that Sherlock had send you a message.

"John won't answer his phone. Tell him to check it.- SH" You read.

You frowned and typed back.

"He is sleeping. Why? - SD"

A few seconds later, you received a reply.

"I need him on a case. Wake him.-SH," You read. You rolled your eyes. "I am not your personal slave," You thought.

"Where are you?" You typed back. You weren't going to wake John. Sherlock texted you the details.
You quietly walked upstairs, and left John a note. John had fallen asleep with a book on his chest.
"The Fault in our Stars, by John Green," You read with a smile. "Really, John?" You gently picked up the book and looked at it. You had cried your eyes out when reading it for the first time. "I must ask him if I can borrow it some time," You thought.
You walked back down the stairs, to outside. The nice sunny weather had shifted to typical London weather. The weather was windy, thus very cold.
"Okay, let's do this," You said to yourself. You wrapped your arms around you and hailed a cab.

Chapter Text

"That's £23, love," The cabby told you. You grumbled and dug into your pockets.
"The cabbies are getting more expensive each day," You thought. "Here," You handed him the money and got out of the car. The cabby had stopped in front of a place with police tape everywhere, something that didn't surprise you. Sherlock was on a case, after all.
"Sorry, this area is not open to the public," A policeman stopped you.
"I am here to see Sherlock Homes. I work with him," You quickly said. The man looked at you suspiciously, but then spoke into his walkie-talkie. When he received a reply, he lifted the police tape and walked you inside the building.
"Sora. Where's John?" Sherlock said when he saw you.
"Probably still fast asleep. He has a hangover, Sherlock. He can't be running around and solving murders," You answered. You looked around, and saw that you were in some sort of a nightclub. "What happened here, anyways?"
"Someone was poisoned here last night. It hasn't reached the papers yet, but this is the 3rd nightclub in a row where our murderer has been," Sherlock explained. "Do you know what kind of poison?" You asked. Sherlock shook his head.
"I have a blood sample," Sherlock took a small bottle of red liquid out of his pocket. "They say that all the victims died of an overdose of GHB,"
"..And of course you don't think so," You smiled and shook your head. "Why, no foaming at the mouth?"
"Exactly that," Sherlock looked surprised, but didn't ask questions. "In higher doses, GHB can be used to induce comas, and as a result, it is often employed as a date rape drug. The dangers of mixing too much GHB and excessive amounts of alcohol are well documented—it kills you, and fast. The result is white foaming around the mouth. The line between 'just enough GHB to get high' and 'knocking yourself out cold for hours and stopping your heart' is incredibly fine, not to mention that it differs from person to person," Sherlock went on.
"How come you know so much about drugs?" You asked. Sherlock just gave you a glance.
"I am going to stop by at Barts, examine the other two bodies. Coming?" Sherlock changed the subject.
You rolled your eyes and sighed. "I guess I don't have another choice,"

Once arrived at Bartholomew's Hospital you followed Sherlock straight to the morgue, where you saw a familiar face.
"Oh, hi Sherlock, I didn't know you would stop by," Molly swirled her hair around her finger.
"Molly, we need to see the bodies of the people who died at the nightclubs, one day apart." Sherlock looked at you and back to Molly. You gave him a look, and he (for once) got the hint. "Oh. Molly, this is Sora. Sora, this is Molly. Nice to meet you, blah blah blah. Can we finally look at the bodies? We don't have much time,"
Molly smiled at you shyly before turning around to fetch the bodies.

"Cherly Hills and Kathrine Chamberlin," Molly read. Sherlock started examining Cherly, while you decided to take a look at Kathrine.
You looked at the girl on the table and sighed. "They're about my age," You thought. You couldn't help but feel sorry for them. You put on some plastic gloves and took notes on everything that seemed a bit off about the body: Puncture holes in her neck and arms, some loose teeth. You softly heard Molly talking to Sherlock in the background. You tried to pick up what they were talking about.
"I didn't know you had a girlfriend," Molly said. You looked up a bit, to see her examining Cherly's feet.
"I don't," Sherlock answered. He was examining Cherly's head, noticing the same puncture holes on the neck as with Kathrine.
"I can see the way you look at her. It's just the same way you look at John," Molly spoke.
"Puncture wounds in neck and arms," Sherlock said to you,ignoring Molly's last comment. Molly looked a bit hurt, but she quickly hid it behind one of her shy smiles. You didn't want Molly to feel neglected, so you joined her into the conversation. "Same here," You spoke. "What about you, Molly?"
"Nothing, other than that she has green nail polish,"
"So was the poison injected into them?" You asked to no one in particular.
"There are multiple puncture wounds, so one dose didn't kill the victim," Sherlock took the blood sample out of his pocket. "Molly, please examine this in the lab. Sora, you go talk to the witnesses, I will go back to Baker Street. Text me when you find something." With that, he walked out the room.
"Well," Molly said. "See you, I guess," She gave you one of her smiles and looked down.
"Here's my number," You scribbled something on a piece of paper. "If you ever need help with anything, I know Sherlock can be quite a dick sometimes," You handed her the number.
"He isn't.. well yes.. Thank you," Molly smiled. "See you around,"
You smiled back and went on your way to the first witness.

Your first witness was Cherly's best friend. She and Cherly had gone to the club together when she disappeared in the middle of the night, only to be found hours later, dead. You spend two hours trying to get something out of her without having her to burst out in tears every 5 minutes, something that seemed impossible. Eventually, you left with a wet shoulder and the information that Cherly would never have taken any party drugs, because she had had a really bad experience with her parents, who had been drug addicts.

Your second witness was the bartender from the first night club. He said that he barely remembered the girl, only that he had served her a coke.

Your third witness was a girl named Whitney, who found the body. She explained that she was going to the bathroom to reapply her make up, when she heard some stumbling outside, like someone was dragging something heavy. Rather curious, she walked out of the bathroom into the hallway to go outside, when she saw the body sitting against the wall. She called 911, but when paramedics came, it was way too late. Whitney also mentioned that she could swear that the body was twitching, after had been confirmed that she was dead. Tired, and a little creeped out, you thanked her and went back to Baker Street.

Chapter Text

"Here," You threw Sherlock the notes you took on the witnesses. Sherlock caught it flawlessly and threw it in the bin.
"What the hell was that for? I just spend 4 hours talking to those people!" You said, insulted.
"Look on your jacket," Sherlock pointed. You looked down at your jacket. There was nothing different.
"What?" You asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"On your collar,"
You saw a tiny black bump on your collar. You frowned, looked at Sherlock suspiciously and peeled the thing off.
"A recorder. I already know everything the witnesses had to say, and I have a plan," Sherlock walked to his wall with all his research.
"You could've told me that," You muttered. "Then I wouldn't have had to make those notes,"
"You should've observed," Sherlock replied. "I know where our murderer is going to strike next. Fancy going to a club?"
"A.. Club? I am not really the going out type," You said uncertain. Then it hit you. "You want me to play as bait?"
"Exactly my plan. John and I will go with, so don't worry. We will be there if something goes wrong, or if you die,"
"Well doesn't that just sound reassuring," You rolled your eyes. "That is your plan? It's terrible,"
"I don't think John would be so happy to walk around in a wig and a dress," Sherlock replied. "Our killer will strike tonight. I take it you don't know how to shoot a gun?"
You shook your head. "Only bow and arrow,"
"Well, then you have more chance of hitting your target, that's enough. Go buy a dress, you have exactly one hour," Sherlock gave you his credit card.
"Um, thanks, I guess?" You accepted the card and looked at Sherlock, wondering how he always managed to manipulate others.

-----

After shopping for at exactly an hour at Top Shop, you returned to Baker Street with your outfit. You had settled for a tight black dress, with a small golden belt and golden earrings to match. Sherlock ordered you to change immediately, for the killer could be at the club early. You had to collect as much clues as possible.
"Black eyeliner," You murmured. You put a faint line below your eye, and applied your mascara. Once everything was done, you stepped out of the bathroom. "How does this loo-"
Sherlock was sitting in his chair, dressed in a beautiful black suit.
"-look," You finished your sentence. Sherlock looked absolutely gorgeous. "The black really brings out his eyes," You thought.
"That," Sherlock swallowed hard. "That will do, yes. John is coming, he woke up just now,"
"Don't let him drink anything," You warned him. "He is still recovering,"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Of course not. He won't be much use to us if he does,"
You had to avoid eye contact with Sherlock, for you felt your cheeks reddening. You walked to the wall where Sherlock had put up the clues.
"So, what exactly am I looking for?"
"Statistically speaking, our killer has a higher chance of being male. Look out for anyone who touches other peoples drinks and such. Do not let your own drink out of sight or do not let anyone touch your drink, for you could be a possible victim," Sherlock stood up. "Switch on the GPS on your phone, so that if something goes wrong, we can always track where you are,"
"Yes, good idea," You grabbed your phone out of your bag and switched on the GPS.

"Hey," John came walking in the room. His eyes widened when he saw you, but he quickly shook his head and looked the other way.
"Ready to go?" You asked the shorter man. John nodded vaguely, still a bit in a dazed state.
"John, get your jacket with your gun. We will need that," Sherlock walked out the room. "Come on, we don't have all day,"
You followed Sherlock outside. It was quite chilly, and you shivered.
"Here," Sherlock put his coat over your bare shoulders. You nodded in appreciation.
"Thanks," You sighed. You were beginning to get a bit nervous.
Sherlock hailed a cab as soon as John locked the door. You were squished between a very warm Sherlock and John. You couldn’t help but lean a bit on Sherlock’s shoulder.
"He smells nice," You thought. You relaxed a bit.

When you reached the club, you followed Sherlock inside. Inside there was music blaring loudly through the speakers, and people were trying to jump to the rhythm (something you never quite got the hang of).
"ArE yOU OKaY?" John tried to scream. "YoU LoOk A BIt pALe"
"Yeah, I am fine!" You shouted back. "Just not used to this, thats all!"
You and John followed Sherlock to a pair of tables at the back. Sherlock took of his coat and sat down.
"Go and find the killer," Sherlock waved with his hand. "We'll be here if you need us,"
"Yeah. Really assuring my safety," You murmured, too softly for them to hear. You nodded to Sherlock and walked towards the bar. You had to have something to drink before you could have the courage to go onto the dance floor to find the murderer.

After you had finished your first drink, you picked up the courage to go to the dance floor. You were just about to walk there when someone bumped your shoulder.
"Oh, I am so sorry! Didn't see you there,"
You turned around, and saw a girl who was about the same age as you. You smiled. "Don't worry about it,"
The girl smiled back. "Are you new here, too? This is my first time at a club,"
"Yeah, mine too," You replied. "I am Sora, by the way," You introduced yourself.
"Vivian, nice to meet you," Vivian looked at the dance floor. "Want to dance?"
"Yeah, why not. Let's go," You walked with Vivian onto the dance floor. The last song had just finished, and now a different song came on. You were happy to find that it was one of your favourite songs, "Of the Night," By Bastille. You smiled happily and tried to dance on the beat as best as you could. You were pretty sure that you looked like a spastic squirrel, but you didn't care. You were having fun. You casually looked around if you could see anyone suspicious.
"Vivian?" You asked when there was a break between the songs.
"Yes?"
"Have you lately seen anyone.. acting suspicious? A man maybe?" You asked.
Vivian thought for a moment. "Can't say I have," She replied. "Why?"
"Just wondering," You smiled. You didn't want your problems to become hers.
"Come, lets get a drink," Vivian lead you to the bar. She ordered two drinks, one for her and one for you. You quickly glanced at the table where Sherlock and John were sitting, and was surprised to find it empty.
"Maybe they found something," You thought. You decided to not pay so much attention to it, but you did send Sherlock a message to ask where he was.
"Here you go," Vivian handed you an interesting looking cocktail.
"Oh, thank you!" You thanked her.

You smiled at Vivian, who was watching you curiously while you were drinking your cocktail. You remembered vaguely what Sherlock had said about your drink.
"Do not let your own drink out of sight or do not let anyone touch your drink, for you could be a possible victim,"

When everything became black, you wished you had listened.

Chapter Text

Your head was pounding. Flashes of white beamed in front of your eyes. You tried to move, but found that something was holding you. You slowly tried to open one eye.
"What the hell.." You grunted. You were in a grey room, tied to a chair. You tried to remember what had happened, but nothing came to mind.
"Sherlock?" You called. Had that even been real? You, meeting Sherlock, Thorin, Bilbo… You couldn't remember. There was an important piece of information gone from your memory, but you decided to leave that for now. You had more important things to think about, like how you were going to escape from this room.
You looked around. There was only one window in the room, but it was at least 2 meters above the ground and very small. The door was right in front of you, but it looked heavily locked.
You tried to move your hands, which were tied behind your back. Your ankles were tied to the legs of the chair, and you were starting to become worried. You had absolutely no idea of how to escape.
The flashes of white interrupted your sight again, and you fell into an endless black whirlpool.

"Morning, sunshine,"
You slowly lifted your head. Your vision was blurry, but you could see a vague image of a woman standing in front of you.
"I said MORNING!"
A sharp pain shot though your left cheek. You felt blood running down from your nose.
You tried to speak, but your voice creaked. "S-stop-p" You tried to say.
"Oh, what was that?" The woman put her face close to your ear. "Is the mouse trying to speak?" She lifted her arm again, and you silently awaited the blow. You looked up when nothing happened.
You looked at the woman's face again, which seemed strangely familiar. "Vivian?" You spoke. Your voice creaked.
"Ahh. Tiny mouse seems to have it finally figured out. I thought, with you hanging out with Sherlock, you'd have figured this out much quicker,"
You frowned. So meeting Sherlock had been real. That would mean that meeting Thorin and Bilbo had been real too. But…
"How did you know I was with Sherlock?" You asked. Your throat was awfully sore, and you had trouble speaking.
"Come on. Isn't it obvious?" Vivian snickered when you didn't answer. "I thought so. Not as clever as you thought you were… You see, my boss and I have been eying you for a while now. You, John and Sherlock."
"And of course you thought a juicy murder would bring Sherlock to you," You said, teeth clenched.
"Clearly. But now we have something better: His sweet little companion, all tied up. My boss is very pleased with me, you know,"
"I don't fucking care," You managed to say. "Sherlock will defeat you, regardless of if I die here or not. You'll see," You tried to sound confident, but truth was, you weren't even sure if Sherlock was looking for you, let alone planning to get you out of here.
"Oooh. Am I supposed to be scared?" Vivian laughed. It was a laugh that gave you goosebumps. "I am not going to kill you. Not yet, anyway. My boss wants to get a good look at you before you die: In front of Sherlocks eyes, of course. We wouldn't want that he misses all the fun, now, would we?"
You looked down. You could feel the anger build inside you, but you tried to stay calm. You were no use. Tied to the chair, you were helpless.
You could hear Vivian snicker before she walked off, her footsteps echoing though the empty room.
"Have fun rotting to death," She said before closing the heavy door behind you.

"Look at the mess you've gotten yourself in," You murmured to yourself after you heard the door lock. "Right," Again, you looked around the room for any help. Nothing.
You looked at your arm, and noticed tiny little dots covering the soft flesh. "Fuck," You cursed. That was bad. Really bad.
"C'mon Sherlock," You closed your eyes, and wished for Sherlock to come and save you. For anyone to come and save you.

————

"Damnit Sherlock!!" John was running after his best friend, trying to keep up with him. Sherlock had told him at first that the killer was more likely to be a man, but when Sherlock lay eyes on the girl Sora was talking to, their plan had changed drastically.
"Keep up, John! We need to find out where she is headed,"
John shook his head. They had fucked up, he knew. They had allowed the killer to take Sora captive, and they had no idea of how they would get her back.
"TAXI!!"
John was shook out of his thoughts by Sherlock, who was desperately trying to get a cab.
"We don't have all night, John, hurry up," Sherlock shoved John into the black taxi. "Follow that black Audi, please," Sherlock mentioned to the cabby. The cabby frowned, but asked no questions.
"Sherlock, this whole thing is one big mess. How are we going to get Sora back?" John said.
Sherlock's mind was racing. You were in danger, he knew. He knew that very well. It was a thought that couldn't leave his mind.
"Killer: Young woman, early twenties." Sherlock thought. "Good upper body strength, but no stamina. Clearly a secretary in her daily life. Makes young woman comfortable around her, then applies the drug. She couldn't have gotten the bodies in the car alone, so…"
"Of course," Sherlock said aloud.
"… not even mentioning the danger.." John looked up when Sherlock spoke. "Are you even listening to me?" John asked.
"The murderer. She isn't alone. Of course she isn't. Of course.” Sherlock looked at John. "The gun. Keep it save. We'll need it,"
"Sherlock," John spoke.
"What,"
"The gun,"
"What about the gun, John. You have to be more specific,"
"She has it. Sora has my gun,"
Sherlock was silent for a while.
"Why on earth does she have your gun?"
"Because you told me to give it to her, dammit! Since when do you forget such important facts?" John looked at Sherlock. "No,"
"No what," Sherlock answered.
"Did you… No, it can't be. I brought the drinks myself…" John murmured.
"If you think I am under any influence of drugs, you are wrong. The only drug you witnessed me having was alcohol, and a small amount of it." Sherlock defended himself. "I know drugs, John. I know the taste. The feeling. The symptoms."
John winced when he heard that. He didn't know a lot about Sherlock's drug history; and he knew he would never look at his friend the same way again if he did.
"Yes, but I am a doctor," John spoke in defense.

"That'll be 47 pounds, sir," The cab had stopped in front of a very familiar house.
"Sherlock. What. The. Hell." John said.

They had arrived at 221b Baker Street.

Chapter Text

"Dammit, Sherlock!" John shouted at his friend. they were outside, on the street. They had followed the wrong car. The killer had seen them and set up a trick.
The bloody wrong car. How could Sherlock make such a mistake?
"Now we will never find her! You... you..." John pointed at Sherlock. "You let her into all this! You said she'd be safe, and now we lost her! She could be dead for all we bloody know!"
"Did you think I meant for this to happen?!" Sherlock turned around. John was shocked when he looked at his face. There was a tear rolling down his cheek. Sherlock never cried. Ever. Feelings always got in the way, Sherlock used to tell John. That they make the human being weaker.
There was definitely something wrong.
"Sherlock, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?" John shouted. That came out harsher than John had intended.
John could see something change in Sherlock's face. He knew that he had said the wrong thing.
Sherlock swiftly turned around, and walked in the opposite direction of John. He hailed a cab, jumped in and drove off, leaving John behind.
"Stupid, stupid idiot," John murmured. He took his cellphone out of his pocket and called Lestrade.
"John?"
"Yes. Greg, listen. Long story short, Sherlock tried to track down the person who is killing people off in clubs and by accident got one of our friends kidnapped. Care to help?"
It was silent on the other line. "...sometimes I wish I didn't know you two. Where the heck are you?"
"In front of 221b Bakerstreet. I pissed Sherlock off so he drove off in his own cab,"
"Tell me there is something good about this situation,"
"We think that she is still alive...?"
"God dammit John, I'll be there in 5," Lestrade said. John hung up his phone.
"Fuck this shit," John thought as he paced up and down the pavement. He was angry at Sherlock. He didn't understand why his friend was acting so weird.
It made him worried.

 

"What the…" You felt your hands tingling. It was a strange feeling.
"Great. Now my hands are asleep?" you thought in agony. "Just what I needed," The flashes of white light returned, and your vision became black.

"Sora," A mysterious voice called. The smell of dead leaves reached your nose, and you opened your eyes. You were back in the forest where you'd landed before you were read into Sherlock's story.
The green woman was standing in front of you.
"How…how did I come here?" You asked. You quickly stood on your feet.
"That is not of importance now," The woman replied. "You must act quickly, Sora. Sherlock is coming for you, but if you don't do anything, he will die."
"Well, that is a calming thought," You muttered under your breath.
"How?" You asked. "How can I do anything? I am tied to a chair!"
"Since when is the daughter of Durin slain by a piece of string?" The woman spoke back.
"You have the power to save, Sora. Use it,"
"But.." You wanted to talk back, but the woman just gave you a stern look.
"I have faith in you," Was the last thing you heard.

You were back in your chair again. You felt the rope holding your hands together behind your back. You knew that the fastest way to get out of the rope was to break your thumbs, and you weren't sure if you were ready for that. Then you remembered the green woman's voice. "If you don't do anything, he will die.." You repeated the words in your head. You braced yourself for the pain and broke one thumb: the pain nearly made you cry out loud. You managed to get the one hand out of the ropes, and soon the other hand was out too.
"What the.." You said. Your thumb was making a funny noise: and in seconds, your finger was back to normal.
You frowned. How on earth could that have happened?

You decided to not pay so much attention to it, as you were trying to get out of the chair. You untied your ankles, and you were quickly out of the device that had captured you for so long.
"Okay. What next?" You said to yourself. The door was no option: It was made of steel, and by the looks of it very, very heavy. There was no way you would get it open.
You looked back at the chair. It was from steel, so it would surely hurt by impact... You braced yourself and tried to pick it up. Surprisingly, it was lighter than you expected.
"Lets do this," You said to yourself as you stood behind the door.

--

"Here we are, sir," The cabby turned around. "That'll be-"
Sherlock shoved a £50 note in the man's hand and went outside. He was standing in front of an abandoned science lab, in the somewhat lesser known parts of London.
He knew John would follow him.
He knew it was dangerous to go alone.
He knew that it could mean possible death.

Then why was he so sure of going?

Chapter Text

Sherlock neared the building. There was no one in sight, but he knew that this was the right place.
It had to be.
Sherlock was rewarded with the finding of a black Audi. It was not the same one they had been following, but that had been the murderers plan: To set them on a wrong track, so that they could take you. They had underestimated him. Once he found the ones who had taken you, they would be crying for merc-
Sherlock stopped his track of thoughts. What was he doing? He knew he was nearing certain death.
"Get yourself together," He said to himself. He looked around. The main entrance was around the corner, but Sherlock was not that far gone to walk though the front door. "That is exactly what they'll think," He murmured. "They'll think I won't go though the front door. That I will take some back route. They know my way of doing, that's why I am here,"
They were aware of him, that was certain. There was no way that he could have gotten all this way undetected.
But why? What was the use of him alive? To torture him? He could think of many reasons why people would want to do that, and he decided to not spend too much thought on it.
He took a few steps towards the front door, stopped, and turned around again.
He was unsure of what to do, and he absolutely hated it.

----

"Thanks for coming so quickly," John stepped into Lestrade's car.
"No problem. I know where he is. I called the cab service, and a certain man in a black trenchcoat was just dropped off by the old science lab, about 17 minutes from here,"
"Well, then what are we waiting for? Lets go!" John exclaimed. Lestrade handed him a gun.
"I hope we don't need it, but just in case," He pressed the gas pedal, and off they went.

----

Waiting had never been so dreadful.
You'd been over the plan a thousand times; when you heard someone approaching, you would go to the door and smack whoever it was, in the face with the chair. Hopefully it would knock the person out, and maybe even break a few bones. That way you could escape, maybe even dress up as the person if you needed to.
But then there where the "What if?"'s.
What if it was Sherlock or John, or someone else who was trying to help, who opened the door?
You would only get one shot at this, and you definitely had no time of checking who it was. You might be able to distinguish the person's walk, but you doubted it.
What if you missed?
Then everything would have been for nothing. There was no second chance.
What if you escaped?
What then? What if you got caught again? What if you ran straight into Vivian's lair, instead of the outside world?
All these questions made you nervous. Adrenaline was running through your veins, and you found that you couldn't stop thinking.
What if, what if?

Then, you heard the noise of distant footsteps. Your heart beat faster.
"Is our mouse awake? Time for our final dose. Your detective friend is here, so he can watch you die," Vivian's voice send chillings up your spine. At least you now knew who you were facing. You held the chair ready. You could hear the door unlocking, and in one movement, it swayed open.
You swung with all your might.

----

Sherlock had entered the building.
It made him think of a hospital, or a prison: all the walls were white, and there were different halls leading off the main one. The door shut with a heavy thud behind him.
"No cover," Sherlock noted.
In the distance, he heard a noise. It sounded like a large metal bang.
He decided to follow the noise, making no attempt to be silent. He walked for a while, passing quite a few hallways, until he stopped in his tracks.
"People have died, you know," Sherlock said out loud.
"Well, you and I know exactly that that is what people do,"
Sherlock spun around.
"Hi Sherlock,"

----

"Okay, let's do this," Lestrade and John stepped out of the car.
"Backup is coming," Lestrade said. "Let's go," He loaded his gun.
John did the same, and pointed at the main enterance. "They'll see us coming. "Let's go though the back,"
Lestrade agreed.

----

She was still breathing.
You weren't sure of to kill her; In the end you decided not to.
You stepped over Vivian's body and went on your way. You were sure you had caused at least a severe concussion, or at least you hoped so.
You heard talking, not far from you. You immediately recognized the voices.

"...I told you I'd burn the heart out of you. Then I figured: What is the fun in that? It is much more fun seeing Sherlock suffer while his beloved female pet gets tortured and killed," Moriarty's voice echoed through the hallways.
"That will never happen. I won't allow it," Sherlock spoke.
"Too late, my dear. It has already happened,"
You heard other footsteps approaching. Hushed voices spoke silently. "John and Lestrade," You picked up.
The talking between Sherlock and Moriarty stopped. It had appeared that they too had heard the voices.
"Oh, look. Your male pet is here to save you," Moriarty remarked. You walked towards his voice, nearly jogging. You knew he'd have gun.
You entered the hallway just as Lestrade and John did. Sherlock and Moriarty were in the middle, Moriarty's back to you.
"One step closer, or the consulting detective dies," Moriarty snapped his finger, and suddenly red dots appeared all over Sherlock, John and Lestrade. You couldn't see where the shutters came from.

 

"Let him go," You spoke.

Chapter Text

"Let him go,"

Those words echoed through the hallway. Moriarty turned to you. You saw the hatred in his expression, followed by.. joy? You didn't understand.
Suddenly, you felt a sharp pain in your neck, and your vision became blurry. You tried to keep standing, but gravity seemed much stronger than you. You fell down with a hard thump.
"..Sherlock," You tried to speak, but the words were stuck in your throat.
You felt another sharp pain in your neck, and another- you could faintly make out the figure that was standing over you.
Vivian. You knew you should've killed that bitch.
You heard Sherlock call out to you, followed by gunshots. You saw a body drop to the floor. You wanted to cry out, scream as hard as you could, but your whole body was limp. You couldn't move an inch.
"Rot in hell," Vivian whispered in your ear before running off.
You heard footsteps walking towards you. You squinted your eyes to see who it was.
"Hello sweety," Moriarty's sweet voice made you tremble. You knew that this was going to be the end.
As you heard him load his gun, you were aware of Sherlock's voice in the backround. He was being held back by the red dots, you knew. You also knew that that wasn't going to stop him.
"Any last words?" Moriarty spoke. "Go ahead, everyone is watching,"
"Don't try to save me," You said, eyes closed. "I don't want you to die because of me," You opened your eyes, and through your blurry vision tried to find Moriarty's face.
"Promise me not to kill them after I am dead," You spoke.
"Aww, the last noble deed. So cute. I won't kill them... yet. Now, are you done?"
"One last thing," You managed to say.

"Sherlock, I love you,"

The bang you heard was ear shattering. The pain you felt excruciating.

Everything became black.

Chapter Text

"John, do something!"
"Call 911!"
"Paramedics are on their way!"
"Go after him!"
"She isn't bleeding!"

The hallway was a madhouse. Lestrade, calling his troops to locate Moriarty who just slipped out of their hands. John, crouching down next to Sora. Sherlock was standing in the middle of the madness. The madness that he had caused. The madness that had caused you to be dead, and for what? Just another string in Moriarty's web. It was all a game. A sick, disgusting game he didn't want to be part of, but he had now caused himself to be the middle of it.

"Sherlock, for God's sake, don't just stand there! Help me!" John commanded. "I can feel a pulse!" At once, Sherlock crouched next to you.
"What, how, what do I do-"
"Pick her up. Paramedics are on their way. Keep pressure here- no not like that, like this. See? Okay. Now, go outside. Keep talking to her, talking is good. Make sure you keep her head up. She was shot in the chest, but the bullet is preventing bloodflow from going out for some reason. Make sure it stays that way- we don't want her bleeding to death. Now, go on!"
Sherlock walked with you in his arms.
"Keep talking?" Sherlock thought. "I am going to talk to you now," Sherlock declared. He thought about what to say, but nothing came to mind- It scared him.
"Please don't die," He started. "I don't know what I would do if you died." He sighed. "I have never felt... this affection for another human being before. It is new for me. Excuse me for that. This is all my fault. You would lived a happy life if I hadn't opened that book-" Sherlock opened the door of the building. He could hear the faint noise of sirens in the distance.
"I don't know why you understand me so well. I have never known someone who could relate to me. I thought I was the only one in the world who was feeling the way I felt, but it appears I was wrong," Sherlock looked down at you and cracked a tiny smile. The sirens were very close now. "If you wake up, no, when you wake up, we have to tell John about where you come from. You have to tell me more about it, about the land and the hills and the people."
The ambulance drove up the pavement, and stopped right in front of Sherlock.
Two people jumped out with a stretcher. Sherlock lay you down carefully.
"What is the situation?" One of the paramedics asked.
"She has been highly overdosed with a specific kind of party drug, and she has been shot in her chest-"
"Okay sir. Please stand back. We will take care of her,"

Sherlock watched you get carried into the ambulance. He couldn't bear the thought of you gone, forever. Out like a candle, a leaf in the wind. You had to make it. You had survived the fire, which should have burned you to a crisp, without a single scratch. He wasn't sure how, but that didn't matter. As long as you made it this time.
"Come on, we have to follow them," John jogged past Sherlock to Lestrade's car. Sherlock was on his heels.
"I made her do all of this. She is dying because of me. What if she doesn't make it? I will never forgive myself for it," Sherlock started.
"Get in the bloody car," John sat behind the wheel, and drove off as soon as Sherlock got in. "She got shot in the chest. There was no blood. No blood, Sherlock. That is nearly impossible. The impact, and that short a distance was supposed to kill her straight away. Instead, I feel her pulse and there is not a single drop of blood. How?"
"She went into a fire and did not have any burns. She did not get a single scratch when she was driven over by a truck. There has to be something else at hand here," Sherlock stated. "A supernatural force, maybe? I never really looked into the supernatural, but it can be a possibility.."
"Shut up," John told Sherlock. "What, is she like a God? Using black magic?"
"All that matters is if she makes it out alive. We can ask questions later," Sherlock stared out the window, nervously tapping his fingers against his leg.

They arrived at the St. Barts hospital 12 minutes later. Sherlock was walking up and down the hallway, waiting for news, for something that would stop him feeling so restless. After 10 minutes of pointless waiting, Sherlock walked past John to the exit.
"I need to go. Text me,"
Once outside, he started to run. He didn't know where his legs would take him, but he didn't care: He needed to keep a clear head, and think straight, two things that weren't happening.

It was an hour later when John send him a message.

Chapter Text

"The doctors got her stabilized. She is still unconscious, but the bullet is out of her body. She needs you by her side, Sherlock. Come. -JW"

Sherlock breathed out a sigh of relief. He couldn't believe it. Sherlock picked up his pace and jogged to the nearest busy road. There, he jumped in a cab. "St Barts Hospital, please," He told the cabby.
Within 7 minutes Sherlock arrived at the hospital. He paid the cabby and ran inside. John was waiting for him in the hallway.
"Where is she?" Sherlock asked.
"Come," John gestured. Sherlock followed John through the dull hospital, carefully observing the other people. When they finally arrived at the far end of the hospital, John entered a room.
It was dark inside the room. The windows were covered by blue curtains to keep the street light out. Machines were making noises and lights were flickering all around a single bed. In that single bed lay you.
"She looks so pale," Sherlock remarked. The blue light made you look like a marble statue, a figure of utter serenity.
"The doctor said that, once they pulled the bullet out, the skin healed itself before their eyes. It didn't even leave a scar. They were baffled, as you can imagine. There is definitely something at hand here," John told Sherlock.
"But what," Sherlock murmured. He walked towards your side, and took hold of your hand. With the other, he stroked your hair out of your face. "What are you, really?" Sherlock whispered. He sat down on a chair next to you. "Go home, get some sleep," Sherlock told John. "I need to go to my mind palace,"
"What about you?" John asked. Sherlock shook his head.
"I need to stay here. You know why."
John nodded. "Tell me immediately if there is any change," John spoke before he left the room.

Once alone, Sherlock shifted the chair closer to your bed and took hold of your hand again. It looked so small, so fragile. He intertwined his hand with yours and started thinking.
Pictures flew through his mind, and the story you had told him.
Daughter of Thorin Oakenshield. But who had been the mother?
Dark blue and bright pink. Dark blue like the curtains. The pink colour stood for something, something that was not from Middle Earth.
That ruled out dwarves, hobbits, elves, wizards, orcs, trolls, goblins and humans.
What was left? Basically any other fantasy creature ever created.
Sherlock recalled you saying something about a green woman you had met before your travel to London. Did she have anything to do with all of this?
But then the big question: Why did your skin repair itself so quickly? Who or what caused it to be like that?
Sherlock needed answers, but all he got was more questions.
If he could read her out, it mend that other people, or beings, could too.
Why was she chosen to protect him and John?

Sherlock was pulled out of his mind palace by a single movement. Your hand closed around his, holding it tight. Maybe it was the way the blue light fell on your face, but Sherlock could clearly see your cracked lips form a tiny smile for just a second. Sherlock smiled back. Those questions needed to be answered by you. Only then could they figure out why things happened the way they did. For now, it wasn't a problem. Your supernatural gift saved your in more ways than one.

"Sir, I am afraid you need to leave. You can visit her again in the morning," A doctor entered the room. "I need to do her regular check-up,"
Sherlock nodded and slowly stood up. He left the room, but not before stroking your face gently and promising that he would be back in the morning.
Once in the hallway, Sherlock decided to sit on a chair right next to your room. His eyes fell on a clock that was hanging opposite him. 4:37 AM.
He thought about the night before the case. How they had to carry John upstairs because he was totally wasted. How he had offered his bed to you. How he, when he needed something out of his room, had found you sleeping so peacefully he joined you. He knew it was one of the best sleeps he had ever had. Sherlock took his thoughts back to that moment, embracing so peacefully and cosily. He relived it, smelling your hair and relaxing into a deep slumber.

It wasn't long before Sherlock Holmes fell asleep in the hospital chair.

His dreams took him back to the moment when Moriarty stood over her. Sherlock tried with all his might to move, but found that he was stuck to the ground. John was there, too. He was shooting at Moriary, but missing every single shot.
"Any last words?" Sherlock heard Moriarty say.
"Sherlock, I love you," Sora's fragile voice broke.
The shot broke the silence, and red covered the room. Everything was red. Blood was dripping from Sherlock's hands. He tried to wipe it off, but the more he tried the more blood there was.
Sora was lying on the floor, blood flowing from her chest. It filled the room, faster and faster, and Sherlock found that he couldn't escape.
"It was your fault..." Those words filled his head. They were spoken again and again, until he couldn't take it any more.
Suddenly, he felt a strong hand on his chest. He wanted to fight back-

"Sir? Sir!"
Sherlock was woken up by a lady with red hair. Judging by her outfit, she was clearly a nurse. Sherlock looked at the clock. 7:56 AM.
"Sir, are you okay?" The nurse asked. When Sherlock nodded, she continued. "The lady has waken up. She is asking for a Sherlock Holmes, and I presume that it is you. Am I correct?"
Sherlock nodded and stood up. His dream was still fresh in his mind, but he decided not to pay attention to it.
He was going to see you.

Chapter Text

You had had a terrible night. The pain in your chest wouldn't leave: Again and again you heard the bang- but it wasn't you getting shot. Sherlock was on the ground, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes, a red stream forming all around him. You wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but your voice would not produce any sound. The dream repeated. It was always the same: The bang, Sherlock dead. But every time, Sherlock would be in a different position, or the scene would be different. The story remained the same.
When you finally woke up at 7:47, you asked for Sherlock immediately. The doctor and the nurses wouldn't allow any visitors near you at first, but when they saw how distressed you became when they didn't allow it, they quickly changed their minds.
"Sherlock Holmes. His name is Sherlock Holmes," You told the nurse. "Black curly hair, long black trench coat, quite tallish... you can't miss him,"
The nurse nodded and went on her way. You hoped Sherlock was okay, and that the nurse would find him. You hoped that no one had been hurt, and-
Sherlock walked through the door. He walked slowly, every step carefully placed. You watched him, every little detail. When he finally reached your bed, neither of you spoke a word. Very slowly, without disturbing the peaceful moment, he held your hand. "It is going to be okay. You are safe now," His eyes spoke. You squeezed his hand.
"Are you okay?" Your voice sounded weird. Nervous. Why on earth would you have to be nervous? It was Sherlock.
"Yes, I think so. You?" Sherlock's voice sounded different too. More deeper, if that was even possible.
"The doctor says that I am healing exceptionally well. The only thing that still needs to happen is get all these drugs out of my system,"
Sherlock nodded and sat down on the chair next to the bed. "I am sorry, Sora. This never meant to happen. The-" Sherlock's voice broke. "The plan didn't even work. Moriarty and Vivian escaped without a trace. I nearly got you killed because of it," Sherlock looked at you, his blue green eyes staring deep into yours. "I am so, so sorry. For everything. For reading you out the book. For dragging you into this world. For getting you in dangerous situations that nearly meant your death,"
You smiled sadly. "Do not ever apologise for reading me out the book. I would never have met you and John if it wasn't for you. This isn't the first time I've nearly died. I am starting to get used to it now," You chuckled. You were silent for a while. Then, Sherlock spoke up.
"Your last words... Did you really mean them?"
You could feel the blood rush to your face. Ah, yes, the downfall of being alive. You'd have to live through this moment, and live with the rejection your whole life. You braced yourself. "Ehm," You started. "Oh fuck it, it's Sherlock," You thought. "Yes, I did. I love the way I can feel at ease with you so quickly. When you show that caring side of yourself, it just hurts me when I see that you are really trying to do your best, and people are just not appreciating. I just want to go to you and give you a hug, but I know that-" You stopped talking and felt your face turn crimson red. Sherlock was looking at you intensely. "Sorry. I really let myself go there for a bit," You spoke shakily.
"I spoke to you, while you were unconscious.," Sherlock spoke. He was still holding your hand. "John asked me to keep talking to you. It was hard for me at first, but-" Sherlock sighed. "I am not good at these kind of conversations. I like to avoid them as much as possible, because every time I start a conversation that involves feeling.." Sherlock swallowed hard. "I always manage to fuck up one way or another,"
"Hey," You squeezed Sherlock's hand again. "You are not going to fuck up, okay? I believe in you. I believe in Sherlock Holmes,"
Sherlock smiled at that. "I asked you not to die. That I wouldn't know what to do if you died. I have never felt the affection I feel for you before. All this is new to me. The heart, the feelings. I am sorry for that, sorry that I am not able to out my feelings as well as others. I may seem annoyed and not caring at times, but that is because I don't know- I don't know what is the right way to react,"
"But that is what makes it you. Your perfect imperfections. You don't have to change- certainly not for other people," You leaned closer to Sherlock. You noticed the tiny freckle he had above his eyebrow, and the way his tongue touched his lips before he spoke. He seemed deep in thought, thinking about what you had said.

Sherlock looked at you with those mysterious eyes of his. He leaned forward, breathed in, and leaned backwards again. He seemed to be calculating something, weighing the risk. Sherlock breathed out from his mouth. "Why are you so.. so..." Sherlock leaned in, further this time.

Chapter Text

Sherlock stroked your hair out of your face slowly, as not to disturb the tranquillity you had created. He leaned even closer than before, and you could feel his soft breaths on your skin. You saw him wondering, weighing the risk. He looked into your eyes, eyebrows raised in question.
You smiled. Sherlock slowly put his hand on your cheek, and drew your face closer to his.
You knew what was coming.
Your lips brushed, exploring, wanting more. You reached out for him and wrapped your arms around his neck, something that caused Sherlock to make a noise in surprise. The kiss deepened. Yes, you had kissed Dave before when you were still dating, but nothing could compare to this.
This.
What was this? It almost seemed unreal.
You, a normal, quiet girl, kissing the only consulting detective in the world.
But, then again, you weren't quite so normal. And you weren't just any girl. You were Sora Durin.
All this was going though your head when suddenly, Sherlock broke the kiss and stared into your eyes.
His hand caressed your face, gently rubbing his thumb in circles on your cheek.
In the corner of your eye you saw movement, but you paid no attention to it. Only when you heared a surprise gasp and a "OMG!" coming from towards the door, you and Sherlock looked up.

"John, as you can see, Sora and I are experiencing some physical intimacy. As I have observed with your girlfriends, they prefer me to not be in the same room with them while you are sucking each others faces off. As it is fairly obvious, I would like you to do the same,"
John, stunned, could only nodd. "I'll..." He stuttered. "I'll be waiting in the hall, then," He slowly backed away, into the hallway. You could see him mouth another "omg" before disappearing.
"Now," Sherlock turned towards you. His eyes were bluer than ever, and his curly hair was all over the place. "Where were we?"

-----

"Doctor?!" She had fallen out of the TARDIS again. Not the first time. She couldn't help it. The planets, the stars... They were unbelievably beautiful.
"Amy!" The Doctor's warm hands pulled Amy up, into the TARDIS. "I told you to be careful. Actually..." The Doctor stood a moment, thinking. "Actually, I told you that 17 times, to be exact,"
"I know, I know. But how can I listen if this is what is outside?" Amy pointed at the door. Beyond the wood, there was a vast growing galaxy with different alien races that the Doctor had introduced her to. It had been five human years since her Doctor had returned, but she knew that she had travelled much longer than that: sometimes with Rory, sometimes without.
Something strange had been happening to her lately: She had been feeling homesick. Amy never got homesick, not when the Daleks attacked the Doctor and her multiple times, and not when the cybermen tried to kill her. Not when she got locked up in Pandora's box, and not when the silence were invading the planet. But now, she was longing for a place to stay. A solid place, not just the TARDIS. A house that could be called home. A home with Rory.
"I know how you feel,"
Amy realised that she had been staring into space- quite literary. The TARDIS was drifting gently between asteroids in the black void.
"I think it is time for Amy Pond to return home," The Doctor said with a sad smile on his face. He turned around, and walked to the control panel. Amy saw the sadness in his eyes, his fear. His fear that he might be left alone again.
She knew that she had to create home, but she also knew that she couldn't leave the Doctor without a new companion.

-----

"Are you done?" John asked you when you (finally) got out of your hospital room dressed and ready to go.
"Yeah, I think so," You glanced quickly over to Sherlock, who looked like he was busy calculating one thing or another.
John chuckled. "I'd never think I'd live to see that happen,"
You could feel your cheeks turn crimson red. "Oh, shut up, will you?"
"It's good," John glanced at Sherlock. "He needs someone like you in his life. We all do," John looked at you. "I am truly sorry for what happened to you, Sora. I just have one question: Why do you never get hurt? I mean, you always heal in a matter of hours. I asked Sherlock to find out what it was, but the only theory he had was that it was some supernatural force,"
You realised it was time to tell John the whole story.
"Actually, I have an idea of what it might be. To tell you this, you'd have to hear a whole long story first, and I prefer to do that at 221B Baker Street, if that is all right," You spoke. John opened the door for you to exit the hospital. You breathed in deeply, glad that the cold air refreshed your mind a little bit.
"Okay then, 221B it is," John hailed a cab. You turned around, to see Sherlock carefully watching your movements. You walked towards him.
"I am indecisive," Sherlock said when you stopped in front of him.
"About what?" You asked.
"This feeling," Sherlock spoke. "It changes. When you talk to John, I..."
"You get jealous?" You asked, surprised. Sherlock shook his head.
"I feel the same way if someone else I know is not worthy is near John. It is a possessive feeling," Sherlock shook his head and swallowed. He then proceeded to look in the far distance. "I am not good in the whole feeling business," Sherlock continued. "You know that, I know. I have to learn, observe, and discover things I thought I would never use in my life. I have always managed to reject my feelings, and store them away, until I read you out of that book. I don't want to know what had happened to me if I hadn't," Sherlock looked at John, who was waving his arms and mentioning that you should probably come into the cab.
You followed his gaze. "We will go through this together. You, John and I," You took Sherlock's hand, and together you walked to the car.
"We have to tell him," You said. "About the book. About everything,"
Sherlock nodded. "At tea,"

Chapter Text

"So," John sat opposite you in his chair. You were curled up onto the couch, a cup of tea in your hands. Sherlock was next to you, observing.
You scraped your throat. "Um. Yes. Where to start..." You looked at Sherlock for help.
"The book." Sherlock suggested. Yes, that was probably a good idea. You reached into your bag, which was fortunately next to the couch.
You grabbed your book and held it out to John.
"The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien- wait, isn't this the book I brought for you?" John asked Sherlock.
Sherlock nodded. "As it might have occurred to you, I wasn't lying about the book. I can really read objects out of it. Even people," Sherlock glanced in your direction. "Sora was my first living experiment. It all began when you said that we needed someone who could protect us,"
John looked at you, not knowing weather to laugh or to cry. When he saw that you were serious, he did neither.
"What.. so you mean that.." John shook his head and chuckled. "You guys are messing with me. Haha. Very funny,"
You took a second book out of your bag.
"A study in Scarlet..." John frowned. "What is this?"
"A book from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle," You continued. "Read the back,"
"Convalescing in London after a disastrous experience of war in Afganistan, Dr John Watson-" John looked up. "What the hell is this?"
"Keep on reading," You urged. John eyes you and Sherlock suspiciously before going back to the book.
"Dr John Watson finds himself sharing rooms with his enigmatic new acquaintance Sherlock Holmes," John looked up. "Okay, what the hell is going on here?"
"I come from another reality, John," You explained. "In the world I presumably came from, you and Sherlock are just fictional characters,"
"That is absurd," John looked at Sherlock. "Has she gone completely bonkers?" John looked frightened when Sherlock didn't answer.
"You believe her?"
"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, must be the truth," Sherlock replied.
John rolled his eyes. He turned to you. "So you mean to tell me that you come from this book," He held out 'The Hobbit', "And that they have a book out there where Sherlock and I are fictional?"
"Not exactly," You replied. You sighed deeply. "Let me start from the beginning again..."

-----

"There we are," The TARDIS came to a standstill. One snap of the Doctor's fingers, and the door opened. "Take care, Amelia Pond,"
"You don't want to come inside for a cup of tea?" Amy spoke, hopeful.
The Doctor shook his head. "I will come and visit you and Rory, when the time is right," He walked towards her, and gently stroked the hair out of her face. "Don't worry about me. I will be fine,"
Amy sighed deeply and wrapped her arms around the Doctor's thin waist. He'd been eating less, she noticed. She knew this was the right choice, but she had to find him another companion... someone who could help him, and could be helped in return. Like she'd done for him.
The Doctor hugged her back gently. They stood there for a while, silently.
"Go on then," The Doctor held Amy's face in his hands and kissed her forehead. "I'll call you,"
"Is that a promise?" Amy asked. The doctor nodded.
"A promise."

-----

After 2 cups of tea and shocked faces from John, you'd finally finished your story for what felt like the 100th time.
"It sounds too absurd to be lies," John concluded. "But I need evidence to convince me,"
"I am the evidence!" You replied. You realised that didn't sound convincing at all.
Sherlock spoke up. "There was once a very unusual book. In this book, there were pictures of all that was unknown. It was about the size of ones hand, and not thicker than a pocket- but in it were the answers to everything. the answers for-" The brown coffee table began shaking. Something glowed, and with a loud thump an old looking book appeared on the table. Sherlock smirked to himself, and stored away the piece of paper he was holding.
John's mouth was wide open.
"Careful, you might catch some flies," You spoke. John closed his mouth, and looked at Sherlock and you in disbelief.
"How..."
"Elven powder," You explained. The same way Sherlock brought me here,"
"I think that that is enough evidence for today," John stood up. "I am going to take a walk," He grabbed his jacket, and walked towards the door. "Don't do any crazy stuff while I am gone," He said before he walked out.

"Thanks," You told Sherlock. He wrapped his arms around you, and smelled your hair. He nuzzled his head in your neck, and breathed out deeply.
"I never took you for a cuddle kind of person," You remarked while hugging him back tightly.
"Me neither," Came his muffled reply. "But it seems like my body reacts on human affection."
"That is good enough for me," You said while you kissed his head. Sherlock seemed to react to that, making little noises of pleasure when you kissed his neck. Then, he suddenly stopped you.
You looked at him in confusion. "What is wrong?"
"I am not the romantic kind. I try to push my feelings away, so that they do not interfere with my work. I have always been able to keep myself isolated and distant from them, but this all changed... when I read you in. I don't know what it is, Sora, but you have become extremely dear to me. I want to apologise if I can't express myself in a loving way- it is simply because I don't know how to," Sherlock confessed. "You have made me feel feelings I've never felt before. It is something that drives me absolutely crazy. I hope you understand,"
You held his head in your hands. "Yes. Of course I do. You're Sherlock," You gently stroked his curly hair out of his eyes. "Tell me if we are going to fast, okay? I want you to feel safe, not rushed into something you don't want or feel uncomfortable with,"

Sherlock nodded. He leaned forward, pushing your back into the couch. He kissed your mouth gently, as to experiment with the texture. The taste. The feeling. When it was to his liking, he lay down beside you on the couch and wrapped his arms around you. You could see that he was about to fall asleep. You adjusted yourself, and hugged him back, feeling the safest you'd felt in a long time.

Chapter Text

*Ding Dong!*

Amy jumped up. She threw aside the book she'd been reading- It had been boring anyway. She had been spending most of her time reading, as she had a huge pile of unread books still lying on her night stand. Rory had a late night shift at the hospital, and hadn't returned yet. Amy had been hoping, wishing for the Doctor to come visit her to see what she'd been up to. It had only been 3 weeks, but it was already driving her crazy.
Amy made her way to the front door, her hands shaking in excitement. She turned the key, and opened the heavy brown door, ready to see either the Doctor or Rory standing in the doorway.
Neither of them where there.
Instead, a small brown package was left behind- it was carefully tied with white string. Amy bend down to pick it up, and was surprised with the weight of it. The package was quite heavy for its size.
Amy frowned, looked around one more time to see if the deliverer was around, and shut the door. It wasn't the Doctor, but it was something interesting...
Amy sat back on her chair, and placed the packet on the table in front of her. She'd been in quite a few adventures with the Doctor that involved exploding packages, but this one didn't look like it was about to explode.
"Lets see... What are you hiding from me, hm?" Amy slowly untied the white sting, and removed the brown wrapping paper. "You have got to be joking..." Amy shook her head. "Who on earth would send me another book?"
On the table was a book that read "The Hobbit, by J.R.R.Tolkien." There was an envelope sticking out of it.

------

"John has been gone for quite some time now," You remarked whilst looking at the clock.
Sherlock looked up from his computer screen. "He has?"
"Hm," You confirmed, and grabbed your phone. "What is John's number again? My phone doesn't have seemed to save it,"
"Grab my phone, it's on the table," Sherlock mentioned. "Ask him to get some dinner if he is still out,"
"Okay," You grabbed his phone, but found it locked. You smiled to yourself. This wasn't hard.
After typing in the digits 5646, the phone unlocked with a little tune. Sherlock looked up, surprised.
"I guess I have to change it now," Sherlock remarked.
"Just don't set it to 7672," You said. "That is very cliché,"
"Damnnit," Sherlock muttered under his breath. He shook his head and smiled.
You found John's number in Sherlock's contacts soon enough- he didn't have many. You dialled the number and waited.
"Sherlock?"
"No John, this is Sora. We were wondering where you were, as it's quite late,"
"Ah, I see. Sorry about that. I am at this random pub, maybe you want to join me?"
"I am assuming you mean the both of us,"
"Yes, of course," John chuckled. "I highly doubt it that Sherlock wants to come with, though,"
You smiled. "Leave that to me," You glanced at Sherlock. "Will you send the adress to my phone, please? I don't seem to have your number. I think I gave you mine,"
"Yeah, I have it. I'll text you as soon as I find out,"
"Okay. See you later!"
"Bye, Sora,"
You hung up the phone and placed it back onto the table. "We're going out tonight," You said to Sherlock. "I think a drink after all these adventures is quite in order,"
You could see Sherlock's expression change at the mentioning of going out. You smiled and kissed his cheek. "Come on, it will be fun! And, by the way, I think I kinda deserve this," Sherlock smiled and shook his head.
"I am not really a drinker,"
"Neither am I. But who cares? It has been ages since I have been in a bar. I know that there are a lot of people, but, you know, once in a while it is good to be around them. Even if you despise them," You gave him another peck on the cheek before walking to the room to change into something else.

-----

"It is worth a try," Amy sat at the table, pen in her hand. "It is worth a try," She repeated. She knew that if this failed, that there were still other ways of finding a companion for the doctor. She just hoped that this would work.
"Come on, Amelia Pond. Writing a paragraph can't be that hard!" Amy said to herself. Truth was, she had always gotten terrible marks for writing stories in English. "Oh come on," Amy put her pen down, and stood up. "I need to find some inspiration,"

-----

The cabby dropped you off at a small, but inviting bar and bistro. You lead Sherlock to the entrance, where you could already see John sitting at a table. You could see Sherlock was feeling a little uncomfortable. You grabbed his hand, rubbing little circles on it as you entered the pub.

"Hey," You said to John when you sat down. "Are you feeling better?" A half full beer glass was standing on the table.
"Yeah, much," John glanced at Sherlock as he took off his coat. "What do you guys want to drink? They have very fancy cocktails here,"
"I'll just have a water." Sherlock said. John nudged him.
"Come on, don't be so boring! It's not like you are going to get drunk," John winked at you. "Not yet, that is,"
You laughed and shook your head. A waiter came to your table.
"Can I get you folks something to drink?"
"What would you suggest from the cocktail menu?" You asked.
"I would definitely suggest the Raspberry Sgroppino," The waiter answered. You looked confused.
"A sgnoppo?" You asked. "What is that?
"It’s a delicious frosty mix of vodka, prosecco, and fruit sorbet that really wants to party with you. You can use any flavor of sorbet if raspberry isn’t your thing," The waiter explained.
"That sounds amazing," You smiled. "I'll have one of those, please,"
"Me too," Sherlock said quickly. "Please."
"And you, sir?" The waiter asked John.
"I am fine with the beer for now, thanks," John said.

"We still have a whole night ahead of us,"

Chapter Text

"This thing is amazing. John, you have to try this," You handed your cocktail glass to John. The waiter wasn't lying- it was delicious. You glanced at Sherlock to see if he was enjoying the drink as much as you, and found that he was gazing out the window, staring beyond the foggy window of the pub. "Are you okay?" You asked him while you rubbed his arm.
"Yes. Nothing is the matter with me. I am fine." Came Sherlock's stiff answer. You looked at John, and frowned. He just shrugged and mouthed "It's Sherlock,"
You shook your head and tried again. "Sherlock, I can see you aren't okay. I know you don't like public places, but do you really have to act like this with us?"
"No, I don't, but I choose to," Sherlock took a sip of his drink, and pulled a face when he tasted it. His tone towards you had changed- the normal, warm tone he used to talk to you in had changed into his deduction voice. Sharp and cold.
Your expression hardened. "What do you mean by that?" You asked, but there came no reply. You finished your drink in silence and stood up.
"If you'll excuse me," You slid passed Sherlock and walked towards the exit.
Just before you reached the door, you stopped and glanced back. When you saw that Sherlock hadn't moved an inch, you opened the wooden door and met the cold breeze outside. You shivered and rubbed your arms. You'd forgotten your coat inside, along with your bag.
You decided to continue walking. You knew you shouldn't be acting so childish - running away - but you couldn't help but think Sherlock was acting the same. "I nearly died, for god's sake," You murmured. "And now this. What did I do wrong?" You kicked a stone while you walked towards a park bench. The fluorescent light from the street lamp gave an eerie atmosphere to the empty street, but you didn't care.
You sat down on the bench, drinking in the midnight air.

----

"Sherlock," John poked his friend. "You should go after her,"
"Why," Came Sherlock's reply. John sighed.
"Because she is our friend, you made her upset and what else? Oh, yes, you were snogging each others faces off earlier today. That enough reasons for you?" John poked him again. "Come on, Sherlock. She nearly died today! No need to treat her like that,"
Sherlock didn't answer. Instead, he finished his drink in one gulp and waved at the waiter.
"Shots for the table, please," Sherlock said.
John looked at his friend in confusion. Something was wrong. Sherlock never drunk. He said it made him less aware, and he hated that. He hated the feeling of not having control over the situation. But now, as John looked at him, he was shocked to see that Sherlock wanted the alcohol- he was craving it.
It didn't take John a long time to realise that Sherlock was trying to forget something. Then, something came to mind- John checked his phone.
He shook his head. Of course.
John remembered the time Mycroft had told him what had happened- Sherlock didn't know he knew.

-

"Redbeard was the name of the dog we had at that time -A hairy beast if you ask me- but Sherlock loved him. He wouldn't go anywhere without him. He felt that Redbeard was the only creature who understood his problems. Well, Redbeard and one other person."
"Who else?" John had asked.
A girl by the name of Alice," Mycroft had continued. She was the only one who believed him in the Carl Powers case. He wouldn't admit it, But she was the only oone besides Redbeard whom he felt he could trust,"
"So what happened?"
"The day that Redbeard was to be put down, Alice was leaving the country. Her dad had gotten a job in Paris, and they moved there. Sherlock lost the only ones he trusted at the same time, and he has never quite recovered from that."

-

John sighed. Today was the day that, so many years ago, Sherlock's only partners had left him. Now he was scared he was going to loose her. You. Sora Durin.
"Sherlock, she isn't leaving. You're pushing her away."
Sherlock looked up. "John, what could you possibly mean by that,"
"Sora isn't Alice. She is a grown woman, for crying out loud. She can make her own decisions,"
"But don't you understand?" Sherlock looked at John. "She could leave us any second. That isn't for her to choose. She took the powder, and now she had to help people who read her out the book. It might be days, weeks, months or even years, but there will come a time that she has to go," John could see something glimmer in Sherlock's eyes.
"And all these feelings. They are unfamiliar to me. I don't like feeling, John. Feelings always cause pain," Sherlock gulped down a shot that had been put on the table. "How can I be with her, share my feelings with her, if I know she is going to have to leave at some point?"
"If what you are feeling is true for the both of you, then you will always find a way to each other. I have never known another person who was nearly as brilliant as you, yet here she is. You compliment each other, Sherlock. She will be a better companion than I will every be,"
Sherlock shook his head. "There will never be a better blogger than you," Sherlock put his hand on John's shoulder. Sherlock was never drunk, but now John could see the alcohol was already affecting him.

John stopped one of the waiters. "The bill, please." He handed Sherlock your coat and your bag. "Come on, we have to find her."
John paid, and walked Sherlock to the door.
"She went to the park," Sherlock mentioned before having to lean on John's shoulder.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" John grabbed Sherlocks arm. "Lets go find her."

Chapter Text

"We're not going to find her," Sherlock nearly stumbled over his own feet, and John had to act quickly to prevent Sherlock falling on his face. John could see that the alcohol was getting to him. "We will, we will," John tried to reassure his friend. Sherlock shook his head.
"No- No... We won't," he started shaking. "She will be gone, John. And then I won't have told her how much- how mu-" Sherlock started shaking uncontrollably.
"Sherlock. Sherlock!" John grabbed hold of his friend. "Listen to me. Okay? We are going to find her. Now, you need to sober up," John looked into your bag. "Ah, here you go," John gave him your bottle of water. "Drink up,"
Sherlock gulped the water down gratefully. He was looking a little bit better, but still too drunk to walk on his own.
"Come on, lets go," John pulled Sherlock's arm towards the direction of an empty park bench.
"It feels..." Sherlock started shaking again. "Something bad has happened. I can feel it,"
"You are ranting, Sherlock. Calm down." John looked at his friend and shook his head. There was no way he would be able to find you if Sherlock wasn't cooperating.

John grabbed his phone and dialled. "Greg?"
"John?" Came from the other end of the line. "What's wrong?"
"Sora," John explained. "We were in the pub, The Hedgehog. Sherlock made her mad, she walked out, and now we can't find her,"
"And what about Sherlock?" Lestrade asked.
"He-" Sherlock snatched the phone away from John.
"You... You have to find her," Was all that Sherlock could utter in the phone. "Please,"
John took the phone back from his friend.
"Woah, is he drunk?" Lestrade asked.
"I am afraid so," John looked around. "I am going to head on into the park. I'll let you know if you should send out an APW,"
"I'll be on stand-by."
John hung up his phone and walked towards the trees. He had a weird feeling about this, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it.
When he had walked the area about 3 times, John returned to the bench where he had left Sherlock.

Only, Sherlock wasn't there.

He reached for his gun in his pocket and loaded it. He walked closer to the bench, and examined- the only trace that was left of Sherlock was a heap of vomit next to the green park bench. John walked even closer, and noticed something else. A card, unfortunately sticking out of...
John held his breath and reached for the card. Two words.

BEHIND YOU

John turned around as quick as he could, only to be greeted by darkness.

----20 minutes earlier----

It was cold.

You examined the moths flying towards the yellow light, trying and trying to reach for it, only to be caught in a web a spider had cleverly woven. Their journey, all for nothing. All lost in the hope that they would touch that man-made sun, only to be welcomed by darkness.
You felt like one of those moths. You, the Durin-descendant girl, whose purpose in life was to save those who needed saving. Whose dreams had been shattered when she was just a small child, and who was now living a life she never even imagined could come true. You didn't know what you wanted any more. You know that you would always have to keep going, because you couldn't let your real family die.
And it wasn't up to you if you were to stay.
Sherlock knew this. You could see it in his eyes. The only one who he opened up his heart for- was a time bomb. There would always be other people who needed your help. You just hoped you would be back to The Company in time for the Battle of the 5 Armies. You just hoped you could return back to Sherlock, should you ever get lost.
You just hoped...

You were awoken from your thoughts by footsteps. First you thought that it was Sherlock who came to apologise, but when you saw the stranger's silhouette you realised it was not. You had left all your stuff in the bar, a bad move. The stranger was clearly walking to you.
"Hello," The stranger stood still just outside the rim of light. You couldn't make out his face.
"Do you need something?" You asked, starting to get a little worried.
"Only one thing," the stranger walked closer, into the light. He was wearing a red bow-tie, and suspenders.
Of course. It was London, after all. You should have known.
"Let me guess... me," You said nonchalantly. "Quicker than I thought. For what precisely... Doctor?"

----

John woke up. He was lying on something soft, like a bed... He yawned and turned around. Last night had probably been a bad dream. His alarm hadn't sounded yet, so that meant he didn't have to go to work quite yet... unless...
John opened his eyes again, and realised that he wasn't in his room. Or in his bed. Or in his... clothes.
He got out of bed, and cursed. Where on earth was he?
He opened the door of the room, and was greeted by an corridor filled with other doors. It looked like he was in some sort of hotel.
In the distance, he heard people talking. He thought that he could faintly make out the voices, but he wasn't too sure.
He wasn't sure of anything at the moment.
He followed the sound of the voices, until he reached what seemed like the middle of the structure he had found himself in.
The voices were downstairs, and John could now clearly hear who was talking. Sherlock, Sora and... a third person.

John proceeded to walk down the stairs, careful not to trip over the legs of the a-bit-too-big pants he was wearing. When he reached the bottom, he sighed in relief.
"John!" Sora exclaimed. "You're awake!"
"It seems I am, yes," John paused. "Where the fuck are we?"
"We are in the TARDIS, John," Sherlock spoke. It seemed like he had sobered up. "You should have realised by now,"
"The what?" John asked. Sherlock shook his head.
"The TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. I told you about it. Its a space and time machine," Sherlock explained.
"You do an awful lot of talking when I am not around," John commented. His eyes fell on the third person in the company. "And who are you?"
"I am the Doctor," The stranger answered. "I am the one that brought you all here. I am the owner of this machine,"
"What doctor?" John asked.
You corrected him. "Not a doctor, The Doctor. We all call him that,"

"Okay, what the fuck is going on. Why did you bring us here, how do you know us, and where the hell are we. Come on, start talking. I want answers,"

Chapter Text

"Well, where to start, um... Lets go some place where we can talk, yes?" The Doctor pushed some buttons and pulled some levers, and the TARDIS started moving. John had to hold on the rail of the stairs to prevent falling over.

"What the - is going on?" John shouted. "Where are we going? Why are you all so okay with this?"
"Keep quiet John, we are nearly there," Sherlock answered. Not very reassuring.
When a loud thud was heard, the TARDIS stopped moving. John let go of the railing in relief.
"Where are we, Doctor?" You asked. The Doctor looked sad.
"I am sorry, Sora," He said softly. "But they ordered me to do this,"
"Who ordered you to do what?" You asked, confused.
"Don't worry, we will be here. That's why I brought Sherlock and John along," When he saw you were beginning to worry, he continued. "Open the door,"
You did as you were asked, and walked towards the door. When you were about to open it, Sherlock called you.
"Sora," He walked to your side, and grabbed hold of your hand. He nodded to you and you turned the handle.

As soon as you saw where you were, anger flared up inside of you. "No. No way. Not here," You turned around to look at the Doctor. "Why here? What could I possibly be doing here?"
John joined you at the door. "Where the hell are we?" He stepped outside, and looked back at you. "No... how..."
"It is bigger on the inside than on the outside, John," You explained. You felt sad and angry. You knew very well why the Doctor would send you here, to settle old business.
"This is where you came from," Sherlock deduced. "The stories you told us about your horrible fake parents... They happened here,"

You nodded at Sherlock's correct deduction. You were standing in front of your old house.

John's eyes widened. "Does that mean we are in another reality? Your reality?"
You nodded sadly. "I am sorry. I know why the Doctor brought me here, to settle old business. I need to do this myself," You took your hand from Sherlock's. "If you'll excuse me,"
You walked towards the house. Every step became harder and harder to take, until you eventually stood still in front of the door. The green paint was coming off, you noticed. How long had you been gone?
When you lifted your hand to ring the bell, you noticed that your hand was shaking. You had to do this, in order to move on.

In order to save other people.

You rang the bell, not too long, not too short. You heard stumbling on the other side, cursing. Eric, you knew. He had probably been drinking again with his friends.
You turned around, and saw that the TARDIS was closed. They were probably watching it all on a screen.
You were really not ready for this.
When Eric opened the door, he frowned. He scratched his head, as if to remember who you were. You figured it was quite hard for him, concentrating he probably only had 2 braincells from all that drinking.
Then, you saw it. The change of his look. The frown turned into an confused and angry look, something you were expecting.
"Where the FUCK have you been?!" Eric's breath reeked of whiskey and vomit. "Donna and I have been looking EVERYFUCKINGWHERE for you, and now you just decide to show up?"
A drop of spit made its way to your face. You pulled your nose up in disgust and wiped it off.
"Well, then you didn't really do a good job now, did you?" You replied. You were done. So fucking done with their shit. "I am sure Donna called the police and they send out search warrants all over for me. I am sure you guys were so worried that I could be dead or hurt, because then you wouldn't have anyone to do all your chores for you,"
Eric looked surprised. You never talked back.
"Excuse me, missy?" Eric became furious. "Who cared for you when your parents left you?"
"I did," You replied. "You never did anything for me. I had to sleep in the attic, on a broken mattress. I was 4 fucking years old. I learned to take care of myself from that day, so don't you lecture me of who took care of me. I know very well who did,"
Eric slapped you across the face. You didn't see it coming, but it didn't hurt you. You just kept staring him in the face.
"If you do that one more time," You said, "I will break your fucking arm. I mean it, You made me live the most important days of my life in hell, but guess what? I found people who accept me for who I am, and care for me as well as I care for them. I came here to say that I am never coming back, and that I will hopefully never see you again,"
You'd said it. Your shoulders suddenly became a whole lot lighter.
"How DARE you speak to me in that tone!" Eric wanted to slap you again, but this time you were quicker and caught his arm before his hand could touch your face. "I am not the (y/n) you once knew," You said when you twisted his arm back. "I am Sora Durin now," You pushed back his arm, creating a cracking sound that nearly wanted to make you vomit. Eric cried out in pain.
"You fucking bitch! You will go to hell for this!"
You closed the door, leaving Eric's screams behind the wall of a forgotten childhood.

You were, for what really felt like the first time, free. You did not feel any sympathy for Eric, or Donna. They were just ghosts in your past now. Nothing.

You just reached the TARDIS in time before you passed out.

Chapter Text

"Hello, Sora,"

The stench of dead leaves and mushrooms reached your nose. Again. You knew exactly where you were.
You sat up, and was greeted with a familiar picture- the green woman.
"Hello," You replied, not too sure what else to do.
"How have you been feeling?" The woman asked. You frowned. You were actually going to have a normal conversation with her? You knew that that was not why you were here.
"Strange," You admitted. "Not myself. I feel myself getting more and more anxious, wondering how I am going to get back to Middle Earth..." Now that you'd said it, it suddenly felt more real. You had no idea if the time changed differently from where you were to Middle Earth, and you were scared to know the answer.
"You will get there," The green woman spoke softly. "But there is something else bothering you,"
"Well, there are A LOT of things bothering me at the moment," You said, a little too emotional for your liking.
"Like what, Sora? Tell me," The green woman encouraged.
"Why would I tell you, of all people? You are not my psychologist. I don't even know who you are, let alone know if you are good or bad. I just... I don't think I can keep doing this,"
"Why do you say that?" She continued to ask. You'd wish she would shut up.
"I can't keep making friends, fall in love, and then be torn apart from them, not being able to know if I will ever see them again. Do you know how fucking devastating that is?" You shook your head. "It's hard to say goodbye. Especially if you don't have time to do it,"

"Would you say that this is worse than you previous life?" Damn. She was acting like your psychologist.

"Yes. No, not at all. Worse in different ways, I guess. In my previous life I was never free, and I couldn't do anything without upsetting the ones I hated the most. I got abused verbally and physically. This life..." You sighed deeply. "It's like all my dreams have come true, but I forgot to calculate the bad things. Seeing the ones you love get hurt, trying to fix the broken..." You looked at the woman. "Knowing that your family will die if you don't do anything about it. Knowing that if you go down that road, you yourself have a chance of getting killed. Knowing that the one who loves you is scared to loose you, and you can see it in his eyes, every time you look at him," You breathed deeply. "What do I do when someone else needs my help? When I disappear again, what do I tell Sherlock and John? That, oh, I need to go save someone else, and that it might be years before I see them again?" You shook your head. "It has been a great time, but I know it will come to an end soon. I can feel it,"

The green woman was silent for a while.
"You can get it under control," She said. "It takes great practice, but you can do it. I believe you can,"
You frowned. "Get it under control? You mean the disappearing?"
"That is for you to find out," She said. "Go now, Sora. They are waiting for you,"
"But.." You stuttered before everything became black again.

"Sherlock, get a wet towel," You heard John say. "No, a wet one! Sherlock, what's going on?"
"There is someone at the door," The Doctor observed. "It seems to be the man Sora was talking to. He seems a little... irritated,"
"I would call that behaviour rather furious," Sherlock commented when the man, who you knew was Eric, started banging his fist on the door.
You slowly opened his eyes. "What... what's happening?"
John sighed in relief. "Sora! Are you okay? Be careful, you made quite a smack on the floor back there,"
"Yeah, I am fine," You turned towards the commotion at the door. "What is happening?"
"I don't think your... whatever he is to you, is so happy that you broke his arm," John explained. The Doctor has tried to start the Tardis, but its not wanting to depart,"
"Sora," Sherlock turned his eyes from the angry man to you. "Don't move, I believe you have acquired a mild concussion,"
Just then, Eric found out that the door was in fact a "Push" door, rather than "Pull", as the sign on the front suggested. Sherlock could dodge a mild concussion just in time.
"Where is she?!?" Eric screamed, his right arm hanging limp at his side.
"It would an average human being only take 35 seconds to gaze around the room and find the desired person they were looking for. You, however, having the brain size of a shrivelled walnut, have to ASK where she is, after having banged on the door for about two minutes. Now, do you really thing we are going to tell you where 'she' is with that attitude?" Sherlock blocked the blow that was coming at him, but stumbled a bit backwards.
"Careful, he was in the army," You warned. Your voice provoked Eric even more.
"You evil bitch! I will strangle you with my bare hands!" He started climbing up the stairs, but didn't come far.
John tackled him to the ground, and grabbed his throat.
"If you ever come within 100 metres to her, I will break every bone in your body, while naming them," John threatened.
"I'll be happy to assist," Sherlock added, stepping hard on Eric's broken arm. "Now leave, before we change our minds,"

You had never seen Eric so scared in all your life. He fled out of the Tardis at wind speed, never looking back at the Tardis. You sighed in relief.
"Thank you guys," Your voice shook a little. "You have no idea how long he has haunted my mind,"
"Come here," John opened his arms, and you gladly accepted the hug. "If he dares to do anything else, you know who to call,"
"The Casebusters?" You joked. You let go of John, and turned to Sherlock.

"Thank you, Detective," You smiled as you gave him a kiss on his cheek. "I believe this case is solved,"

Chapter Text

"And so?" You asked the Doctor once you had returned to 221B Baker Street. "Are you here to take me away?"
"Only when the time comes," The Doctor answered. "I believe it is just a tad too soon," He smiled. "You will know,"
He took a tiny box out of his pocket. "Keep this with you, it will be important later,"
You accepted the box and gave the Doctor a hug. "Until we meet again then, I guess," You said. "Thank you for bringing me there. A huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders, thanks to you,"
"Don't mention it," The Doctor chuckled. "I hope I don't pick a fight with you, the way you broke his arm was pretty... Impressive,"
"Oh, shut up," You laughed. "What time is it, actually?" You asked.
"11 PM," The Doctor said while he got into his TARDIS. "Get some rest!"
"Until the stars align again," The Doctor waved. "Goodbye, Sora. All the best to Sherlock and John,"
"Have a good trip," You smiled as you watched the Doctor close the door. The TARDIS' sound echoed through the street until it was gone.

You closed the door behind you, and walked the stairs up to 221B. Sherlock and John were in their usual seats, enjoying a cup of tea.
"So," John said. "You were going to explain to me what that Doctor and his weird machine... were, before we dropped by... your not dad."
"He is an alien, a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey," You explained. "He doesn't die, he regenerates. The Doctor you saw was the 11th Doctor. His planet was destroyed in a war, and he is the last of the Time Lords." You sighed. "A sad story, if you ask me. He has been saving "our" world from aliens, ever he discovered planet Earth. I am not sure if that is this reality, though,"
John just stared at you. "An alien." Was all he could utter. "Of course," He looked at Sherlock. "When are the unicorns coming?"
"I could most likely read one out of-"
"Dammit Sherlock," John sighed. "My sense of reality has been toppled. I don't know if I can carry on living like this if I know... If I know that there are other universes out there. That I am a character in a book, and everything I do and will ever do or experience -even my death- is written on a few mere pages in some detective novel,"
"It's not some detective novel," You remarked. "It is one of the best books every written. It's a classic. People have made movies, series even, about the stories from this book. You are an inspiration, the very base for all the detective novels that are being written on my earth right now," You smiled. "Remember when I first met you, in the hospital? I called you John, even though it wasn't on your nameplate," You sighed. "I knew you were John Watson because I had read the books, watched the series. After having landed in The Hobbit, it wasn't hard to figure out that I had landed yet in another story. So don't tell me it's just some detective novel, because Sherlock is certainly not 'some detective', and you are certainly not just 'some blogger',"
"I.. I.. Yes, you are right," John agreed. "It is just very hard to take in, knowing that you know what is going to happen to us, even if we don't know it,"
"I don't know everything," You said. "Only the broad storyline. Plus, the story is set in Victorian London. The last time I checked, this is the 21st century,"

You all were silent for a while. John was silent, deep in thought. Sherlock however, was fidgeting with some threads from the chair. It was clear that he was not comfortable with the silence, but he showed no effort to break it.

"I'll be off to bed, then," You announced. "Thank you for this very.. eventful evening," You hugged John goodnight and pecked Sherlock on the cheek. "I will be seeing you soon?" You asked.
"I will be right behind you," Sherlock promised. He watched with a smile how you walked into his room and closed the door.
"You are scared she will have to help other people," John observed. "I do see certain things, you know."
"If I can read her out of the book so easily, someone else could do it with the same ease," Sherlock spoke. "We do not know when she will leave us. It could be any minute, any day from now. I do not know, and I do not like not knowing,"
"You must be prepared, but also appreciate and enjoy the time you have with her. She loves you, Sherlock," John gave his friend a friendly pat on his shoulder. "Go to her. I'll be going upstairs, to sleep," John stood up from his cozy armchair and walked towards the door. "Night, Sherlock,"
"Night," Sherlock replied. He stayed in his chair a little bit longer before he got up to join you in his room.

Sherlock opened the door to his room. You were sitting cross legged on the bed in your PJ's, reading a book.
You looked up. "Are you okay?" You asked when Sherlock didn't move from the spot at the door.
"Of course," Sherlock spoke. "Just observing,"
"Well, come observe here," You patted the spot next to you on the bed. "It's not the first time we have slept in a bed together, so I suggest you get in your pyjamas," You smiled. Sherlock pulled up his eyebrows.
"I didn't think you'd notice,"
"I realised," You answered. You put away your book and got under the covers.
You watched as Sherlock stripped out of his clothing, wearing nothing but a simple shirt and underpants. You couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was, and found yourself staring at his lean figure.
"You can move your eyes away now," Sherlock joked as he got into the bed with you.
"Sorry," You chuckled. "It's not every day I get to share the bed with a Consulting Detective," You moved over to Sherlock and huddled close to him. He wrapped his arms around you, and kissed you softly on the head.
You smiled, and kissed him in the neck, which earned you a little noise from Sherlock.

"Sleep well Sora," Sherlock whispered.
"Sweet dreams Sherlock," You whispered in return.
You had never felt so safe, in the arms of the only consulting detective in the world.

Chapter Text

When you opened your eyes, you were still entangled in Sherlocks arms. He smelled faintly of pinewood, a smell that made you think to back home, to your treehouse. It seemed all so far away…

You knew this wasn’t going to be your final destination. Bilbo and the Dwarves… Sherlock… it was all part of a story that was just beginning to unfold. Your story. You found it sad, but also strangely exiting. You were exited to see other worlds, if only you could take Sherlock with you.

Your thoughts must have made you restless, because before you knew it, you felt Sherlocks gaze on you.
“Thinking?”
You nodded, but gave no explanation. Sherlock continued to study you.
“What do you want to do today?”
You frowned. What did you want to do today? Usually things just fell into your lap, you you really hadn’t had time to plan anything in the past… what, 2 months?
“I don’t know, why you ask?” You looked up at those black orbs of his. God, he was so beautiful.
“We don’t know how long you will be with us,”
So he was thinking the same thing too. You chuckled.
“…so I thought we could make the most of it,” Sherlock continued.
You shook your head. “What does that even mean, more cases?”
“No, actually,” Sherlock frowned. “You don’t look happy with the idea,”
“It’s not that, Sherlock. It’s just…” you sighed. “You both have been so nice to me, and you do not have to change your schedule just because I might leave again. I like just being with you, I don’t care what we do. As long as it also makes you happy,”
Sherlock smiled. “You make me happy,”

He pulled you closer, and you snuggled close to his chest. You took a deep breath, sighed, and wished that the moment could last forever.

-

Of course, it didn’t.

A loud ringing shook you out of your half asleep state. Sherlock tried to pull himself out of your embrace, but you held on tight.
“Uuughhhh….” You murmured. “Don’t gooo…”
Sherlock chuckled and moved his fingers. Before you knew it, he was tickling you.
“AAAHhh stop! Okay I give up-” Your pleads were no help. Now you found yourself trying to wriggle out of his hands, only to roll out of the bed and fall onto the floor.
You were lying there peacefully for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Soon, Sherlock’s head appeared above yours.
“You okay?” He asked, mischief in his smile. He extended his hand to help you up. “I believe we have a visitor,”
You frowned. Who could it possibly be? You tried to fix your hair and your pyjamas before following Sherlock into the living room.

Your heart sank when you saw a familiar face.
“Doctor,” Sherlock greeted. “John,”
The Doctor was sitting on a wooden chair John had put out for him. John was in his usual chair, still in his pyjamas. As on cue, Sherlock sat in his chair opposite John.
“Does… does this mean I am leaving?” Your voice shook. You didn’t want to go, not yet. It wasn’t time. To steady yourself, you walked towards Sherlock and sat on the arm of his chair.

The Doctor took an awful long time to reply, to your concern.
“You do not to leave yet. I am just… delivering a message, so to say,” The Doctor reached into his pocket, and took out a crumpled piece of paper. He handed it to you and you grabbed it, hands shaking. “To Sora,” it read. You recognised the handwriting.
“Bilbo…” You whispered. You feared what it had to say.

“Dear Sora,” You read aloud. Sherlock put his arm around your waist, and gave you a comforting squeeze. “I am writing this letter, hoping it will reach you in these difficult times. We all hope you are okay, it hasn’t been the same since you left,”
you swallowed hard. You did not want to leave Sherlock- but at the same time you wanted to help your friends, your… family. “We have survived yet not one, but three attacks by wargs. I deeply thank you for your sword fighting lessons, as they might very well have saved my life.
Do not worry about us too much though, we are safe now, although I do not know for how long…”

You sighed. You knew some bad news was about to come. John looked at you supportingly, urging you to go on.

“Thorin is changing, Sora. Something evil has crept inside him and has… changed him. He is not the same. He is anxious, and restless, and it is becoming worse the closer we get to the mountain. Fili nor Kili can manage to cheer him up- I think he thinks about the treasure too much, and the fear that he might not lay his hands upon it is making him crazy.
In two days we begin the climb. The people of Lake Town have been so kind to give us supplies, but I fear what we will find in that mountain, and what that would mean for the people of the town… and for Thorin.
Please come back soon, we need you here. You know this story the best of everyone, and you also know how it ends. I hope it is a happy one.

Sincerely, your friend,
Bilbo”

No one moved when you finished reading. You didn’t know what to do, or to think. You knew what was about to happen to the Company of Thorin Oakshield- you knew the dangers hidden in that mountain, and even worse, you knew what would happen afterwards.

“Dragon Sickness,” Sherlock was the first to speak. You nodded, and looked up at the Doctor.
“What does this mean for me?” You asked. “What should I do?”
The Doctor sighed before he spoke. “I was asked by Gandalf to deliver this letter to you, as Bilbo had given it to him. He asked to return you to Middle Earth in exactly… a weeks time,” He stood up. “I will be here to collect you, and bring you there. Once I have delivered you I cannot bring you back- you will have to find another way,”
“Why not?” John asked. “That doesn’t seem logical, there has to be a way you can bring her back,”
The Doctor shook his head. “I am afraid not. Sora is on a very special path-and sadly no one can break up the path she is on,”
“So what path is that?” You asked. You yourself were getting very confused now.
“I am not the one to tell you that,” The Doctor said mysteriously. “All I can tell you is that this will not be the last story you will find yourself in,”
“I figured as much,” You mumbled.
“I am going to take my leave now, I will see you in a weeks time,” He nodded in approval, and walked out the door.

“So… a week,” you said. You felt Sherlocks arm around you tighten. “Lets make the most of it then,”
John stood up. “Sadly, I have to go to work,” He pouted. “However, I will make sure I leave early today so we can spend some time together,”
You nodded. “I would like that very much,” You also stood up, Sherlock reluctantly letting you go. You looked at Sherlock, still in his pyjamas, his hair ruffled, and smiled. “I know what we can do,” You started. “We can-“
“Stay in our pyjamas all day?” Sherlock finished your sentence. You looked shocked. “Yes, how did you-” You shook your head. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. Yes, I would like to stay comfy like this with the most intelligent man I know,” You laughed. Never in your life did you think you would have a PJ day with the only Consulting Detective in the world. You were glad you had a week left with him, glad that his seriousness dissapeared for a bit so you could forget your worries. You were worried, of course, about all that was about to go down... In fact, you weren't even sure how you were going to go about saving them.

Sherlock shook you out of your thoughts when he hugged you from behind. "No worrying for you now, that is usually John's job,"
You smiled. Even though this day had begun with some depressing news, you knew that it was all going to be okay. You were going to "Follow your life path," like the Doctor had said, but now you were happy to follow Sherlock to his bedroom.

Chapter Text

“At least we know now,” You said, trying to cheer yourself up. “I guess it would be worse if we didn’t know” You sat back down on Sherlocks bed. Sherlock took place next to you.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop worrying?” Sherlock looked at you, your messy hair, sleepy face, and he could feel something in his chest that he had only discovered recently. He chuckled. “Never imagined my feelings taking hold of me,” he thought. He quite liked it, but embraced this new territory with caution. Mycroft had always told him that feelings would make him lose his ability to deduct and be ‘clever’,- and that it was their ability to ‘not feel’ that made them superior to all the other kids in school. It was also one of the reasons why he didn’t make friends very easily, but then again, all those kids were so… dull. Sherlock looked at Sora again, and sighed. Sora wasn’t dull at all. Nor was John.
“Yes, yes, I know,” You said.
Sherlock could see that you were having difficulty with the news. He saw all the things he would normally see when deducting someone, but now, in this new context, he felt slightly- what was the word… guilty? Yes, that was it. He could see the way you were feeling, passion but also sadness in your eyes, sad that you would not be able to spend more time with him, but also determined to make the most of the time you had left. Sherlock did not want to deduct these things, but wanted to feel them- something again very new to him.

The shrill voice of Mrs Hudson woke both Sherlock and you from your thoughts.
“Darlings, I made some brownies for the ladies bingo night, and I made some extra for you to enjoy! I will put them in the kitchen,” You heard her open the door and put something down. “Don’t worry about saving some for John, I gave him some on the way out!”

“Thank you,” Sherlock half shouted in the direction of the bedroom door.
“It has been ages since I last ate brownies,” You said aloud. Your thoughts drifted off to a different part of your life, where everything had been so simple…
“Come,” Sherlock lifted you swiftly off the bed. He knew he needed you to stop worrying, and decided that that was going to be one of his first experiments in the field he had labeled “feelings” in his mind palace. He carried you to the couch, where he gently put you down. He then went to the kitchen to bring the (still hot!) brownies for both of you to enjoy.
“You want a cuppa?” He asked.
“Sure,” came your reply from the couch. “Milk and sugar please, if you have,”
Sherlock placed two bags of Earl Grey tea in a pot and boiled the water. He knew from watching John that tea could calm someone down- the first part of the experiment. He hoped it worked on you.

“Ahh, that smells delicious!” You exclaimed when Sherlock came back with a tray of tea and brownies. You made a sound in delight when he handed you a plate with a piece of brownie on it.
Sherlock watched you devour the brownie at light speed, and slightly raised his eyebrow to see that you were reaching for your second serve.
You looked up, met his stare, and turned red. “Im sorry,” You exclaimed. “It is just really good,”
“I can see that you are indeed enjoying it,” Sherlock chuckled. “Go ahead, there is enough for the both of us,”
He mentally made a note, adding “brownies = happy” to his mind palace. He was going to remember every little bit of your stay, he had decided. Not a single memory would get lost.

Sherlock took a bite of his brownie, and another, his thoughts so fixed on you that he only realised what he had been eating when he put the last piece in his mouth. He tasted something… off? No, that wasn’t it… It was the taste of something else between the chocolate that made alarm bells go off in his head.

Of course.

The ex-wife of a drug lord, going to a ladies bingo night. Of course she wanted to ‘spice up’ the party.

“Whats wrong?” You asked, seeing Sherlock look quite shocked. You wanted to reach for your third serving of brownie, but Sherlock’s hand stopped you.
“I think you’ve had enough,” Sherlock said.
“Excuse me?” You said, quite taken aback. You knew you had eaten a lot, but who could blame you? You were sad and damn, those brownies were delicious.
“I don’t mean it like that,” Sherlock looked at you. “The brownies are laced with THC,”
“What?” You looked confused. “What is that?”
Sherlock frowned. Somehow he had thought you would have more knowledge on that subject.
“It means that these brownies have weed in them,”
“Oh,” you said. Then your eyes went wide. “OOOHhhhh. Oh no, gosh…” You had to process what had just happened. “So what does that mean for us? I just had two! And I’ve never even done this… stuff,” You waved your hand at the brownies. “Isn’t that way too much for me?”
“By the taste of it I assume she used…“ Sherlock paused, and sighed. “…quite a bit,” Although he had done cocaine and other drugs in the past, he was not quite fond of weed, as it made his mind slow and his actions unpredictable, especially to himself. He decided that he would allow this to be part of his experiment, however, as it was too late now.

“So I don’t feel anything yet,” you mentioned.
“It will take about 1,5 - 2 hours to kick in, given that we ate it,” Sherlock handed you your tea.
“This is not what I had in mind when I said that I wanted to do other things with you this week,” Sherlock said, his eyes meeting yours.
“Oh really,” You said, laughing. You moved closer to Sherlock to kiss him, something you should do more often, you told yourself.
His soft lips met yours, kissing you deeply. You were slightly surprised to feel his tongue in your mouth, but you welcomed it with a noise that… wasn’t sexy at all. You could feel Sherlock smile through the kisses, but he had no intention of stopping anytime soon, something you highly appreciated. Once again, you were pushed back gently into the couch by the only consulting detective in the world.

And you loved it.

Suddenly, Sherlock stopped kissing you, and sat back up. You made a noise of complaint, eager to resume your position with Sherlock kissing you.
“What’s wrong?” You asked. Sherlock looked slightly alarmed, yet amused. You didn’t know what to make of it.
“It seems that my mind has already begun to slow down,” He started. “Mrs Hudson also gave the brownies to John, on his way to work,”
You now too realised what Mrs Hudson had said when she put down the brownies in the kitchen. “Oh no…” you whispered. “That is so unfortunate and funny at the same time,” You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the thought of John, trying to help patients while being very, very high.
“We have to do something,” you said. “Let me call him,” You grabbed your phone. Was it just you, or had the screen suddenly become much brighter?
You typed in Johns number and called.
“Yes?” A familiar voice on the other end of the line said.
“John. Did you eat the brownies,” You said, getting straight to the point.
“Well yes, I just had one with my morning coffee. Why you ask?” You could almost hear John frown.
“Um well, that is unfortunate… John, the brownies have weed in them. Mrs Hudson made weed brownies for her friends,”
It was silent for a while. You looked at Sherlock, who had taken a piece of brownie and put it under the microscope.
“John, are you still there?” You asked, when the silence was longer than you were comfortable with.
“Yes,” John replied. “I think I will come home soon. No, I am going to come home soon. Did you have any? Sherlock?”
“I had two pieces, Sherlock had one,” You said. “Sorry John, I wished we could have told you sooner,”
“It’s all right, it is not the first time something like this has happened,”
You frowned. “It isn’t?”
“I will see you soon. For now, just… stay inside, okay? Don’t go outside,” John sighed.
“Okay, see you soon,” You hung up the phone. “He is coming back,”
“Pity,” Sherlock said, still looking into the microscope.

You walked over and stood next to him. “Find anything interesting?”
“Nothing that I did not expect to find,” Sherlock replied. “This brownie is definitely your dealer type of brownie,”

Chapter Text

By the time John came home, he could already feel everything slowing down around him. This hadn’t been the first time he had been high on weed- when he used to be in the army it was a weekly ritual for him and his division. It made them cope with the stress of war, the stress of thinking that each day could be their last. For a moment, John wasn’t in 221B Baker Street, but rather back in Afghanistan- a sense of thrill overwhelmed him.
The railing of the stairs brought him back, the cold feeling sending shivers up his spine. The creaking of the stairs with each step was too loud for his liking- being more sensitive to things like touch and sound, or rather, all senses, was a byproduct of the high.
He couldn’t believe that Mrs. Hudson had done this to them, again. Last time she had done something like that she had offered Sherlock and John scrambled eggs with mushrooms, only one of the mushrooms were of the magic kind. Sherlock kept insisting that he saw the notes of his violin for eight hours straight, while John had been fascinated by the intricate design of their wallpaper.

“Fun times,” he thought sarcastically.
Only now, he didn’t know what to expect. When he turned the doorknob, he braced himself. He had never seen Sherlock high on weed before, and he wondered what it would do to someone who was used to being in control of his mind.

“Hey John,” You greeted when the blonde haired man entered the room. You were lying on the couch, drawing book in hand.
John glanced over at Sherlock, who was still sitting behind his microscope, examining the piece of brownie.
“He is calculating exactly when the brownie will kick in, and when the high will be over,” You answered John’s unsaid question.
“I see… how are you feeling?” John asked. “Would you like some more tea? It is good to stay hydrated,”
Only now you noticed that he was holding a plastic bag in his hand. “Tea would be nice. What is that?” You pointed at the bag.
“Just some snacks,” John answered as he walked to the kitchen. “I thought it would be better if we ate something other than those brownies when we get the munchies,”
“Good point,” You said. You opened your drawing book, revealing Bilbo’s drawings. They were so detailed and accurate, you didn’t know how he did it. You had decided to continue drawing in the book, having started with a drawing of Sherlock under his microscope.

“You know you can just take pictures,” John put down the cup of tea on the table in front of you. “Not that I don’t like your drawing,” He added.
“I guess,” you answered. “But I like the authenticity of it. And besides, it is not like I can print my pictures in Middle Earth,”
“But you can here, it would be nice to have a little souvenir, perhaps,” John smiled.

When you were finished with your sketch of Sherlock, you decided to start with John. You didn’t draw as detailed as Bilbo had done, but you were glad with the result all the same. However, for some reason, drawing John didn’t go as well. The pencil felt funny in your hand, and you suddenly felt very heavy.
“Gosh,” You said to yourself as you closed your book. When you closed your eyes, it felt like you were falling backward. “I think I am beginning to feel it,” You said to John. “I can’t seem to concentrate, this couch is so… soft,”
Sherlock got up from his chair. “We will reach full effect in about 22 minutes,” Sherlock announced. “and it will take about 4 hours and 39 minutes to wear off. In Sora’s case, it might be more,” He threw himself next to you on the couch.

He didn’t sit still for very long.

“Let's play a game,” Sherlock jumped up again. You guessed it was just Sherlock, being so jittery. You, on the other hand, were feeling very slow.
“What was the name of that game again, John, the one you always make us play at Christmas,” Sherlock was searching through some papers on his desk now.
“Who am I?” John suggested. Sherlock came back with paper, pens and sticky tape.
“But you hate that game,” John frowned.
It was true, yes. Sherlock had hated the game since it was first introduced to him- he thought it was dull. He didn’t even know half, even quarter of the people that the others had written on their foreheads. People had said that he was ignorant, but the opposite was true. He just didn’t pay attention to things like pop stars or who had won the new Idols. Unless they were involved in a case somehow.
However, he was willing to forget all that just to continue his experiment.
Sherlock handed you a piece of paper.
“Do you know how to play?” Sherlock asked.
You nodded. You had played it before at school, in a life that seemed far away. “I write a name of a person on this piece of paper, stick it on your head, and you have to guess who it is?”
“That’s the just of it,” John said.
“I’ll make one for you,” Sherlock said. “That means you have to make one for John,”
“Okay,” you said. You wrote ‘Elvis Presley’ on the piece of paper, careful to not show it to John. You then stuck it on his head.

When John had stuck his paper on Sherlock (it read The Queen, which you found very fitting), Sherlock put his paper on your head.
“Wait, let me read it,” John mentioned for you to come closer.
“Mrs. Hudson,” John chuckled.
You frowned. “Why did you say that? Now I know that I am Mrs. Hudson!”

Both Sherlock and John looked at you like you were crazy.
“What?” You said, a little agitated. You weren’t crazy, you’d heard his voice loud and clear.
“How… how is that possible?” John turned to Sherlock.
“I have no logical explanation, except for that Sora could be fooling us. However, her expression tells me that is not the case,”
“That's rig- wait, how do I know you guys aren’t playing a joke on me?” You took the piece of paper off of your head, and read the name.

Mrs. Hudson.

Sherlock scribbled something else on a piece of paper and gave it to John.
“Read it inside your head,” Sherlock instructed him.
“Vatican cameos,” John’s voice sounded in your head, but you were frightened to see that his lips hadn’t moved. Sherlock looked at you, waiting.
“Vatican cameos,” You repeated, your voice shaking.

John’s mouth fell open. “Sherlock, please tell us what the hell is going… on,” John took a deep breath. This wasn’t a particularly good mix- being high and finding out that someone could read his mind- he couldn’t quite comprehend it. “How… how did she-“
“Please do keep quiet, John,” Sherlock looked at you. “Sora, I need you to stay calm, okay?”
“My body feels like a heavy pillow, I don’t think it can get any calmer than this,” you chuckled. “Yes, of course I am freaking out, but with the state that I’m in, it is quite impossible to show,” You sighed and slouched back into the couch. You looked at the two men and laughed. Both of them still had their piece of paper on their head.

“Sherlock, write me another name. And tell John who it is before you put it on my head,"

Chapter Text

You’d gone to bed early that night, only to move and wriggle around so much that you couldn’t get any sleep.
How was it that you could read John’s mind?

It wasn’t that strange things hadn’t happened to you before. Your whole life had been very strange- but this, this really was something. And why now?

You couldn’t make any sense of it. Any of it.

“Can’t sleep?” Sherlock said when he entered the room. He tried to be silent, but when he saw that you were still awake, he came to sit next to you on the bed.
“Pretty much,” You yawned. You were tired after all, but your mind just wouldn’t shut up.
You felt Sherlock reading you, trying to figure out the secret that was you. “A beautiful mystery,” you heard.
“I can hear your thoughts,” You commented. Not that you minded that, though. You took it as a compliment.
Even though the room was dimly lit, you could see a pink colouring appearing on Sherlock’s cheeks. You chuckled, and hugged him.

You were both silent for a while.

“I… used to not care. About anything. Not even myself, let alone others. I did things to myself. Hated myself, wanted to kill myself at times. John… you… changed me, for the better. I guess I just wanted to say…” Sherlock took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For accepting me,”

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for that,” You spoke softly. “People should accept you as you are, you are a brilliant mind, Sherlock. You have helped and saved so many people, and changed people’s lives for the better. You should be proud of yourself,”

“I don’t know what I am going to do when you’re gone,” Sherlock confessed. “I… I will try to bring you back,”
You looked in his eyes. “You don’t know what’s out there, Sherlock. I don’t even know how it works, and I have travelled twice already. Who knows what it will take for me to come back,” You paused. “But I promise you, I will return to you, when… this… whatever this is… is done,” You had no idea what would be in store for you, but one thing you were sure of- you would save your family at all costs, and then return here as soon as possible. You had to. Not just for Sherlock’s sake, but for yours as well.

Again silence fell, but it was a welcome one. You sat back against the head of the bed, and sighed. You watched Sherlock as he changed into his pyjamas, a simple black shirt, and boxer shorts. It wasn’t long until he joined you in the bed.

“Your feet are cold,” You mentioned as you felt something icy against your leg.
“Sorry,” Sherlock murmured in your hair as he hugged you. You could stay like this forever.

That was, until something began to feel hard against your waist.

At almost the exact same time, you heard Sherlock’s thoughts, loud and clear: “Ihopeshedoesntnoticeihopeshedoesntnoticeihopeshedoesntnotice-“
At first, you felt your cheeks become hot. The thought of having such deep intimacy with the detective excited you, but it was unknown territory. You had had experience in the past with your previous boyfriend, but you knew that this was a whole other situation. Dave had been an awful boyfriend to you, really, pleasuring only himself and leaving you when he was done.

“I noticed,” you said, shocking even yourself. You wanted to apologise for reading his mind, but Sherlock was faster.
“I guess that is what to expect of the girlfriend of the only consulting detective in the world,” Sherlock chuckled. He shifted, so that he was now directly looking at you. “Is this better?”
“I didn’t mind before,” You hoped that the comment would spark a reaction, and you weren’t wrong. Sherlock’s eyes changed, gaining more fire in them than normal. You leaned in to kiss him, softly at first. As soon as you felt Sherlock’s tongue you opened your mouth, wanting to taste every part of him.

As soon as the kiss became more heated Sherlock shifted you so that you were on top of him. You gently played with his hair, and smiled through the kiss when it earned you a soft moan. He was stroking your sides, eyes closed. When you heard his thoughts, you moved one of his hands on your breast, and gave it a soft squeeze.
“You know, I quite like it when you read my mind,” Sherlock whispered in between kisses.

Your hands moved from his head down to his shirt, wanting to get it off. Sherlock helped you, first getting rid of all his garments before helping you to undress.
When you were fully naked, you couldn’t help but gaze at the person in front of you. Sherlock had a perplexed look on his face, and you tilted your head in question.
“You are so beautiful,” Was all that he could say, before you shut him off with a kiss.

He took his time, wanting to touch every part of you, wanting to kiss every part of you. He turned you around so that you were lying with your back on the bed, kissing your arms, your breasts, your tummy, not leaving a single part of your body unkissed.

“I love you,” he whispered when he returned to kiss your mouth.
“I love you too,” you replied, caressing his face with your hands. You could feel his length at your wet entrance, making your head spin. You gently pushed down, giving the sign that he could take the next step.

Sherlock put on the condom, slowly and methodically, making sure it was on properly before resuming his position above you. He softly pushed in, making sure you weren’t in any pain. When you assured him this wasn’t the case, he started picking up the pace, touching your insides with such a graceful manner that you thought you were about to come right at that moment.

You moved with him, fastening the pace, moaning out when he hit the spot inside you, over and over again.
“Don’t stop,” You moaned. “Whatever you do, don’t stop,”
Sherlock happily obliged, seeking your kisses, and gently caressing your breasts.

You came at the same time, an entanglement of limbs and moans, sweet words and kisses.

When you were both cleaned up, you snuggled against the consulting detective one again, wanting to be as close to him as possible.
“Was I alright?” Sherlock whispered.
“More than alright,” you chucked. “That was magical,”
He hummed in contentment, pulling you closer. He would protect you with all his heart, he knew that.

He just had to figure out how.

Chapter Text

“I swear if its any much longer my legs are going to fall off,” Bilbo muttered under his breath. He had been with the company for a long time now, and they had just travelled through Lake Town.
Sadly, they had to leave Kili, Fili, Oin and Bofur behind, as Kili had been attacked by an orc.

Bilbo sighed. “I hope he is going to be okay,” He had gained quite the liking of all the dwarves, especially after he had saved Thorin from Azog the Defiler. Bilbo shivered at the thought. They had left Azog’s gang behind at the Mirkwood forest, but he had a feeling he would be seeing the monstrous orc again.

Now the company, what was left of it, were on their way to the Lonely Mountain, Thorin’s birthright. Bilbo had noticed that Thorin had been acting strange- he was eating considerably less and he had been grumpy, angry almost, at the other members of the group.

“Now we need to find the way up there,” Thorin’s booming voice made Bilbo look up. In front of him was a gigantic statue in the shape of a warrior dwarf- Bilbo had never seen a statue that big in all his life!

“If only Sora could see this,” Bilbo thought. He had given Gandalf the letter, but he had no idea wether it had reached you or not. He didn’t doubt Gandalf’s powers, but he hoped he would be here in time to stop the inevitable.

It seemed, to Bilbo, that time was running out.

———

The next week that you spend with Sherlock, you both decided that you wanted to make the most of it. You played games, visited famous landmarks in London (Sherlock surprised you, even knowing a bit of history about each building. He said he knew because Mycroft had taught him to memorise it in the past, but John told you that he’d been up all night studying on Wikipedia), and you even got to take a peek at the Queen, when Mycroft all invited you for tea at the Royal Palace.

John had given himself the role of camera man.
Because, he insisted that you should have plenty of pictures to take with on your next journey, to always remember the “211B Bakerstreet Boys”.

“That sounds like a wannabe boyband,” you chuckled, taking the camera from him to look at the pictures he’d taken.
“I like this one,” you showed John a picture of you and Sherlock looking out onto the Thames. “I’m glad to see you can shoot pictures as well as you shoot your gun,” you joked.
“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment?” John chuckled, taking the camera back from you. “Now go and be with your boyfriend, we’ve got an SD card to fill,”

The week went over way too quickly for your liking. It pained you to think that it would be a long time until you got to see and feel Sherlock again. The two of you had had sex for almost every night after the first time, and you just couldn’t imagine your world without him.

“I made something for you,” you said, on your last night together. You were both in bed, limbs tangled, neither of you wanting to break your embrace.
“I have something for you too,” Sherlock replied, looking at you thoughtfully.
You had gotten your ‘mind reading abilities’ a bit under control, now only reading minds when you wanted, not when others just thought stuff. You chose not to read Sherlock’s mind.
“You first,” you chuckled, the both of you unwilling to let go of the embrace to get your gift.
Once Sherlock obliged, you also got up and got your gift.

“I found this, long ago, in the forest that came with the family house we lived in at the time,” Sherlock paused. “I found two of them together. I have kept them together since then, and I always believed that they would keep me safe. Unusual, I know, for a consulting detective that derives nearly all of his deductions of off facts,”

“Mycroft called me stupid for it, for believing in that nonsense. I however, as I always did, chose not to care about what Mycroft had to say,” Sherlock reveals something wrapped in a leather cloth. “Now I believe that one of them belongs to you,”

You opened it slowly to reveal a beautiful red glowing crystal.
“It’s… beautiful. Magical, almost,” you examined it more closely. “How does it glow like that?”
“To this day, that is the one case I have not been able to solve. I always imagined that it had come from another world, which I deemed impossible, until I met you,”

You closed your hand around it. There seemed to be some kind of energy glowing within it, moving and twisting about, wanting to break free. It almost seemed… alive.
“Thank you,” you looked Sherlock in his eyes. “I mean it. It is beautiful. I will keep it with me, always,” You leaned over to kiss Sherlock softly.

“I made this for you,” you revealed something wrapped in brown packing paper. Sherlock opened it, showing the drawing you’d made of the two of you together, laughing. You had made sure to put it in a frame that fit before you wrapped it. “So that you won’t forget me,” you joked, and Sherlock chuckled.
“That will never happen. You have a permanent place in my mind palace,” he put the frame on his nightstand. “Thank you, Sora. For everything,” He hugged you close, resuming the last position you were in. You hummed in contentment, letting his warmth and smell wash over you.

———

The Doctor was waiting for you when you got out of Sherlock’s room. John was already up, and he had made a cup of tea for both you and Sherlock.
“I’ll be waiting outside,” the Doctor said when Sherlock entered. You nodded, scared that if you were to say something, tears would soon follow.

“Hey, cheer up, the both of you,” John pulled you both into a hug. “We had a great time together, and I am sure that this isn’t the last time we will see each other,”
You smiled and hugged the two men close. “You know I’ll misschien the two of you terribly,” you finally spoke. “But that is only more of a reason to find my way back to you, I promise,”
“John, although I do enjoy this display of endearment, do allow me to speak with Sora in private,” Sherlock said after a while.

After John promised that he too would be waiting outside, he left the room, leaving the two of you alone. Sherlock looked you in the eyes. “Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Your bag was packed and ready to go. The crystal Sherlock had given you, hanging around your neck.
Sherlock leaned over to kiss you, soft but intently. You wrapped your hands around his neck, kissing him with all the love you had in you.

Sherlock led you downstairs, making sure you said bye to Mrs Hudson before you left. She had baked cookies for you, and you gratefully accepted them.
“I hope there is no weed in them this time,” you whispered to Sherlock before you opened the door to the outside.
Sherlock chuckled. “I don’t promise anything, you never know,”
He bend down to share one last kiss with you, a long and languid one.
“We will meet again,” he whispered, before opening the door.

John and the Doctor were waiting for you in from of the TARDIS. John had a wrapped gift in his hand. “For you,” he handed you the gift. “Open it… later, when you feel that time time is right,”
“I will John, thank you,” you put your present in your backpack. It was almost full to the brim.

You gave John a tight hug. “Until next time, soldier. Please keep Sherlock safe, and make sure he eats,”
John smiled. “That is my job,”
You returned back to Sherlock for one last time, stealing another kiss from the detective. “Stay strong. Solve many cases together with John. I need you to be alive when I come back, you understand?”
Sherlock nodded. “Please be care fun. And save your family, they need you as much as I do,”
You smiled, kissing him one las time before going to the Doctor. Tears started to form in your eyes, but you knew you had to go.

It was time.

After waving them goodbye one last time, you stepped inside the TARDIS, on your way to your next adventure.

Chapter Text

“It’s okay to cry, I understand,” The Doctor said when the TARDIS was well on her way. “Goodbyes… They’re never easy,” he thought back to all his companions he had had over the course of his life. Human lives were blinks of an eye compared to his, and to see them get old and leaving them behind was never an easy task.

You’d been holding your tears in- you didn’t want to cry in front of Sherlock- you didn’t want that to be the last sight of you. Now, in the safety of the TARDIS, the tears started to roll down your face.
The Doctor handed you some hot cocoa and rubbed your back. His actions made you feel like a child again, but you didn’t mind- it was nice to know that the Doctor would be there for you, as he would be there for Sherlock.

“I believe your bag is in dire need for an upgrade,” the Doctor said, once you had calmed down. “Here,” he handed you a normal looking bag, but when you looked inside, it was just like the TARDIS- way bigger on the inside. Wait… was that a bed?
“It’s like a house in here!” You said, laughing. It had the interior of a small room, complete with a double bed, a sink and various cupboards.

“I thought it would be nice to have your own space with all the travelling that you will be doing,” the Doctor said. “Go on, put your stuff in it,”
You took your old bag and climbed inside the new one. “It’s perfect!” You shouted up. You couldn’t quite believe it. In some way, it reminded you of your treehouse where your adventure started, having a place of your own.
You looked up when the Doctor joined you in your bag. “I know what you are thinking. How are you ever going to get anything out of here without having to go inside the bag first?”
“Yeah, pretty much. I am a bit reluctant to leave my swords in here,” you said.
“Well, that’s the magic of this bag. Give everything a place, then I’ll show you something,”

Intrigued, you gave everything a space in your room. You put the gift John had given you next to your bed before following the Doctor out of the bag.

“Okay, now focus,” the Doctor instructed.
You put your hand in the bag, and focused on John’s gift. You imagined it in your hand…

“There you go! Not that difficult, right?”

John’s gift lay in your hand, asking to be opened. You shook your head in amazement- this gift would certainly serve you well.

“Thank you,” you hugged the Doctor tightly.
The Doctor smiled. “You have great journeys ahead of you. I will try to make them as pleasant as possible, but you are the one that will bare the burden of these travels,” there was kindness in his eyes, but also something darker, not anger, but… sadness.

“How come you know so much about that?” You asked, curious.

“I have travelled this universe for quite a while now,” the Doctor looked out into the vast void of space. “What I’ve understood that some people, certain beings… are meant to remove the suffering in other people’s lives,”
“These people are known as Givers. These Givers come in all shapes and sizes, and while I appear to be one of them, trying to help the earth against the monsters of the universe… you have the power to make people happy, and forget the worries that they have inside themselves,” the Doctor paused. “You are stronger than you know, Sora. You will change history for a lot of people,”

You thought about what the Doctor had said for a minute.
“Why me?” You said eventually. “I mean… I can imagine that there are much more powerful beings out there,”
“More powerful… not necessarily kinder,” the Doctor said. “You have a kind soul. You have the ability to understand… to sympathise, because you want to protect others from hurt, want to protect them from the way you have felt so many times, both physically and mentally,”

“Well… getting real, aren’t we, Doc,” you wiped a few stray tears away from your face. “I guess you are right though. I don’t like seeing people hurt,”

The Doctor smiled sadly. “Go get some rest now, you’ll need it,”
You nodded, knowing that in the weeks to come you wouldn’t be able to get much shut-eye.

“I’ll see you in the morning then, I guess- whenever that might be,” you were in the emptiness of space, after all. Time here was non existent.

The Doctor nodded. “I’ll wake you,”

———

“So, what’s your plan?” The Doctor asked during breakfast.
“Don’t let them get killed, obviously,”
“And…” the Doctor hesitated. “What if that doesn’t work?”
Your spoonful of cereal was halfway your mouth at this point, hovering in the air.
“I have a backup plan,”
The Doctor looked you in the eyes. “It’s dangerous. I can’t get you out of there, and neither can Gandalf. How do you know you will be able to get out of there alive?”
You did not question how he knew your plan. “I don’t,” was all you said. “But at least they will be,”

———

“We will be there in 5 minutes,” the Doctor announced. “You look like you are about to kick some ass,”
“That is the look I was going for,” you were wearing a comfy low cut black top, with black leggings to match, your long leather jacket hanging loosely around your shoulders.
“You will tell Sherlock that I’ve arrived safely, and that I thank them both for the gift?” You’d unpacked it last night- it was a key to 221B Baker Street, and a framed picture with the three of you, along with about 500 other pictures John had taken during the course of your stay.

“Of course,” the Doctor smiled. “Look,”
Looking out of the window, you could start to see a planet. The closer you got, the more you began to recognise the features of Middle Earth.
“Oh, those are the plains where we got attacked by Orcs! And is that… Mirkwood forest? Wow, it is a lot bigger than I had imagined,”
The Doctor stood next to you, pointing at something in the far distance. “There,” he said. “Our destination,”
You lay eyes on the distant peak. “Erebor,” you whispered. “The Lonely Mountain,” with the clear blue sky overhead, the mountain shined with all its glory. It was a sight to behold.

“I will drop you off in the nearby village of Dale. The Lake Town people took up refuge there after the dragon, Smaug, set their city ablaze,”
The Doctor caught your worried look. “Sadly, the dragon has perished. However, it is the Dragon Sickness that worries me, it has started to consume Thorin. He needs to find a way out, and quick- that’s where you come in,”

You nodded. You really hoped you’d be able to do it- you knew it would consume Thorin, just like it had done to his grandfather, if nothing was done.

The TARDIS landed in one of the lesser travelled alleys in Dale.

“Gandalf is somewhere in this city. Find him, he will bring you to Thorin,” the Doctor put a hand on your shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Sora. I know you will be able to deal with the obstacles in your way,”
“Thanks, Doctor. For the kind words. And the advice, backpack and lift,” you smiled. “I’m sure I will see you again, when time allows it,”
“I look forward to it,” the Doctor opened the door, letting you out.

Your grip on your backpack tightened- you were ready.

Chapter Text

The TARDIS vanished as soon as you set foot on solid ground. You started to walk, following your instincts on where to go.

It wasn’t long until you found what you were looking for.

A whole Elf army, standing inside the city square. In the middle, a large tent.
If anyone were to know where Gandalf was, it had to be the owner of that tent. After all, Gandalf did have a large influence of the war that was to come.

“Excuse me, sorry,” you tried to move past the armed elves, but they weren’t budging. “I need to speak to Gandalf the Grey, please? It’s of a matter most urgent,”

Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the elves bathed a way for you towards the tent. They weren’t very talkative.
An elf lifted the flap of the tent so you could enter. Your eyes had to adjust to the dim light before-

“Sora! You came! You got my letter!” Two arms wrapped around you tightly, and stray curly hair tickled your nose.

Bilbo.

“I was so worried about you… wasn’t sure if you were coming back,”
You smiled. “Of course I cam back, I wouldn’t want to leave my friends to fight this war alone,”
You saw that Bilbo looked at you thoughtfully. Almost like he was… deducting you.

“This is the girl I was telling you about,”
You looked up, surprised to see two other people in the tent as well.
“Welcome, Sora. Gandalf has told me you have come from a place far away,” a tall, blonde-haired elf sat upon a richly decorated chair. You guessed that he was the leader of the elf army outside- you wondered if he was here to help Thorin, or to reclaim what was his of the treasure.
Gandalf stood next to him, worry in his eyes.
“I need to talk to Thorin. It is urgent,” you stated.
“Thorin Oakenshield…” The elf looked… disgusted, almost. “…will not speak to us, nor the people of this town. Why do you think you are so special… you mortal?”
You were a bit taken aback. Who was this elf to speak to you in that way?
“Gandalf…Bilbo…didn’t tell you?” Both of them shook their heads. You frowned. There must be a reason for them not telling your true identity to this overrated elf lord.
“Because I am his daughter, and as you said, I travelled a damn long way to get here,” you spoke.

The elven lord rolled his eyes. Great, another dwarven scum.
He hadn’t said it out loud, but he might as well have.
I’m sorry if I don’t meet your standards, Mr Elf, but I do assure you that dwarves are very capable of fighting a war. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to make sure that the battle happens between the dwarves and the orcs, not the dwarves and the elves- which you have done a marvellous job at so far. So if there is nothing else for me to do here, I’d like to go and save my father from Dragon Sickness. You projected this in his mind, and you watched his face go from pale white to bright red.

“Tell her the plan and get her out of my face,” the elf ordered.
Bilbo looked visibly confused, wondering what the cause was of this sudden outburst. He then composed himself, and pointed to something on the table.
“I found the Arkenstone,”

A beautiful stone, almost looking like it contained the universe within it, was lying on the round table in front of you.

“I am guessing that there is a plan?”

“The townspeople are asking for their rightful piece of the treasure, to rebuild Dale to its former glory,” Gandalf spoke solemnly. “Only- the dragon sickness that spreads within Thorin plus the stubbornness of dwarves has resulted in Thorin refusing to part with a single coin. We were hoping he would trade the townspeople share for the Arkenstone,”

You stood there for a moment, baffled. “You seriously think that that plan is going to work? You just said that he is highly stubborn, which is a fact, but now he is suffering from dragon sickness as well. If he said he does not wish to part with a single coin than that is the truth. Not even the Arkenstone can change that,” you sighed. “I might not have spent the longest time with him in the past, but I have read the book. And causing a war between allies is the last thing we need. He is just going to think that you stole it from him,”

“So what do you suggest, then?” Gandalf looked defeated.
“Let me talk to him. Bilbo will come with me, plus the stone. We won’t show him the Arkenstone until it I time- war will be upon us soon- and we need everybody to be ready for it,”
Gandalf nodded. “If king Thranduil is okay with this-“
“Go,” Thranduil said. “Before I change my mind,”
“Thunder is outside. I borrowed him for a bit, he is a good horse,” Gandalf showed you where to go.
Your eyes lit up when you heard your horse was alive and well.
“Come on, Bilbo. We have work to do,”

—————

The ride to the Lonely Mountain was a short one. You didn’t have time to tell Bilbo all about your adventures, but you figured that the time would come. For now, there were more urgent matters at hand.

“What happened to the bridge?” You asked once in front of the huge gate. It had been destroyed- deliberately, you guessed, to keep others from entering the mountain.

“Who's there?” You heard a voice come from beyond the walls.
“Bilbo and Sora!” You shouted back. There came no reply, but you heard a lot of shuffling, and then some kind of rope ladder came down from the walls.
“What am I to do with my horse?” You shouted. You saw a pole with some grass nearby, and figured it would be a good idea to leave Thunder there- not permanently, of course. You wouldn’t want him to get eaten by an orc, after all.

You let Bilbo climb up the ladder first, the Hobbit being surprisingly quick. You figured he had learned a lot in the past months, and he was certainly not the hobbit he once was.
When you reached the top, you were greeted by a smiling Dwalin.
“Aye, you came back, didn’t you,”
Scared that he was going to bash his skull with yours, you wrapped him up in a tight hug.
“I promised, didn’t I?”
“Aye, that ye did lassie. Come, I’ll take ye to Thorin, he hasn’t quite been himself lately, but I am sure he will be most glad to see ya,”
You smiled. “I’d like that,”

Bilbo decided it was best for him to stay behind and let you go to Thorin alone.

You didn’t see any of the other dwarves on your walk to Thorin’s chambers. This wasn’t unusual, however- the halls of Erebor were huge. You could easily imagine yourself getting lost, never to see the light of day again…

“There ye are lass, he is inside,”
You nodded to Dwalin in thanks, nervousness starting to eat a hole inside your stomach.

“Thorin?” You knocked on the door before entering. The room was dimly lit, but you could vaguely make out Thorin’s figure in the corner of the room.
“Sora?” A voice called out. That couldn’t be Thorin’s voice, it sounded too fragile, so weak.
“Is that really you?”
You could see the figure moving towards you, slowly, like a great weight had been placed upon his shoulders. As your eyes adjusted, you had to blink a few times to make sure it was really Thorin standing in front of you.

“What happened to you?” You asked, worried. Thorin’s face was as pale as a sheet, his eyes having dark circles beneath them. It looked like he hasn’t eaten in days.

You grabbed his shoulders, scared that he was going to fall over by just mere touch.
“Sit down, Thorin. Please. Sit,” you sat Thorin down on the bed that was in the room. You hadn’t noticed before, but now you saw that the room you were in was covered in gold- the candleholders, the floor, even the table was made out of the shiny substance.

“What do you think, my daughter? Have you ever imagined such riches?” Thorin sounded like he was in a dream, a feverish one at that. You had to get him out of this state.
“Imagined… no, I can’t say I have,” you said. You decided you would play along, for now, to see how far gone he really was.
“What more could anyone want?” With a grunt, Thorin fell back on the bed.
“Friends, family. People who love and respect you for who you are, not about the wealth you have,” you listed.

“Horse crap, all of it,” Thorin’s comment had you taken aback a little, but you knew in your heart it was the sickness talking, not him. Thorin was still in there.
“This…” Thorin waved his hands to the things around him. “…is what everybody wants. It’s why you only came back now, isn’t it? To take your share of the treasure… or better even, to kill me, and to demand your right to the throne. That way all of these riches would be yours,” Thorin sat up, his eyes piercing yours. “Is that why you came here in the first place? To rob me? It was your plan all along, wasn’t it? You filthy-“

Something inside you snapped. The tone, the blame- they all reminded you of your stepfather. You couldn’t let Thorin become the same man you’d hated as long as you could remember.

You couldn’t.

Unable to stop yourself, you smacked Thorin in the face.

Hard.

Having shut him up, now it was your turn to talk.

“I came here for one reason,” you tried to sound as calm as possible as the rage was building inside of you.

It was all so unfair.

“And that reason was to save my family. The family that I’d just discovered, but was taken away from me so soon. I came back to prevent you from getting killed on the battlefield. I came here to protect you, Fili and Kili from that horrible fate,” you were half shouting at this point the anger slowly taking hold of you.
“I got shot, drugged and tortured in these months that I’ve been away- I fell in love with a brilliant mind that I had to leave behind because I wanted to save you.” You took a deep breath.
“Do not ever presume to think what my intentions are for coming here ever again, do you hear me? Now, there are your men out there, who love and respect you even more than I do. Now they need you to be strong, and healthy, because they need a leader for in the war to come. They need you, Thorin, King under the Mountain, to win their victory one last time,” you paused, catching your breath.

Thorin remained silent.

You decided to delve into his mind, seeing all the memories he had had over the course of his life. They were all coated in an ashy haze, almost like they were memories of another lifetime.

“Get out,” Thorin said, after a long moment of silence. You stood your ground.
“GET OUT!” Thorin shouted this time, but you still didn’t budge.

Instead, you put your hand to his forehead, thought about what memory you wanted to see, and imagined it in your hand.