Chapter Text
“Papa, are you really gonna go?” I was thirteen years of age when my father left for his usual two year trip. My father is a good man but a man who cannot stay in one place for a long period of time, so instead of moving all the time he goes off on trips, some for business and some for himself. In other words he was a ranger that went my the name of Hex, but his real name is Declan Axehill; he would’ve gone by his last name but he told me once he didn’t want anyone to know of us so we could be safe. People say I take after my father from his dark gray eyes, to his raven black hair, and snowily flesh. My mother on the other hand was a goose of a gossip, always running her mouth and listen to every little rumble that came out of whosever mouth and holding it in her mind. Back in Gondor everyone got all their idol gossip from her, they either loved her or feared her from her tongue. She was a bubbly woman with wildly curly nut brown hair and dark blue eyes. She was a half bread between a dwarf and a hobbit, quite an unlikely match but at the same time a perfect one. Her name is Giselle. My father, unlike my mother, is from the race man and is a more quit soft spoken soul than my mama and myself. I inherited my height from my hobbit and dwarf counterparts; but unlike the dwarf women I have no beard, and like hobbits I do have curly hair. I don’t have big hairy feet like hobbits, but they are a tad large to the point that I favor walking bear foot because finding shoes to fit is to hard. What I got from my mother was full ruby lips and slightly chubby rosypink cheeks. I remember her telling my father I was everything she wanted in a daughter.
“Fear not my darling Archer, I will be back in two years. If not for this roaming soul I could be here always, but like the birds I must fly.” He kissed the top of my head and mounted his horse. “Be good for your mother my child.”
“Yes, papa,” I muttered. I was always good, but there was times where I did get into a bit of trouble.
“That is my girl.”
“Fair travels father.” I watched my mother blew yet another kiss, because they said all their good byes last night repeatedly, before he road off into the distance. Little did I know that was to be his last ride. Every two years he always came back, but this time he came back a year early hunched over someone's horse with two arrows in his back. My mother and I broke down in tears. My father’s only friend, Thorin Oakenshield, was there to hold me back from acting the fool when I attempt to attack the man and ended up crying in his arms. For my mother and my own sanity she decided to move us to the Shire and away from all that reminded her of him. I was fourteen when I lost my best friend and had to move with a distant cousin in Baggend. He graciously let us live with him and take on the rule as my big brother, since I am young he worries that I’d get into trouble. To the race of man I’m considered and adult, but to dwarves I am still considered a child, I and, now, twenty years old and naive to most things.
My mother became cold, unfeeling, and would scold me about every move I made. Since the death of my father she and I became distant. After my father died my mother was less accepting of adventures because her wild spirit died along with father; through the past six years she worked the idea of being a proper lady into my head, which means no fighting and no ‘wild’ dancing–witch was just dancing–but her soul turned prudent and saw the wrong in everything. It broke my heart to see her heart turn into that of a shriveled old maid, considering that she was 183 years old–which was still young in the eyes of her dwarf kin–but acted as if she was six times that age. Most of the time I feel like a disappointment to her. And she can’t even stand the sight of me these days and remains in her room shut off from all that is around her.
I found myself distancing myself from everyone around me and found myself wondering the night alone, worrying my dear cousin to no end. It was on my walk when I noticed to dwarves on the road arguing. Brothers it seemed. One being blond and carrying all kinds of sharp weapons, from axes, swords, and knives; while the other was a tad taller and brunette with a bow and a container of arrows strapped to his back. As a moved closer towards them and was no longer looking at the back of their heads I help but notice how familiar their faces looked, as if I’ve seen them in a dream or past memories, but one thing is for sure they remind me of home. “Milady do you happen to know Mr. Baggins lives?” asked the darker haired of the two. A cheeky smile played on his face and his brown eyes twinkled in the cold night air unfazed but its chill, it was as if his recklessly laughed at the face of danged and the unknown. He was about to say something but I gave a nod and gestured for them to follow me. I would’ve said something but I taken up a vow of silence–well it was more like I just didn’t talk, because I feared I’d say anything that might offend and I felt like I didn’t have much to say. “So what’s your name? Mine is Kili and this is my older brother Fili.” I turned back to them and brought my attention to the blond dwarf. His beard was longer than that of his brother’s do to the braids in his, while Kili was more like scruff. His blue eyes held a more quit yet irresistible charm that could pull anyone in with such little ease. I remembered where it was that I knew them, back in the Blue Mountains, they are Thorin’s nephews. Last I saw them I was in my room crying and the two of them tried to pry me out of my bed and get me ready for my father’s funeral. They are the sweetest dwarves I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I tried to gather my voice but then an old man sitting on his porch smoking his pipe waved and inadvertently answered the young dwarf’s question. “Good night Archer, Tell Bilbo I said hello.” I gave a brief smile and nod as I lead them on. “So Archer is it?” I gave a smile as I walked up to the door when I remembered I forgot my key. “You mean little Archer Axehill, Declan’s little girl?” My small hand pounded on the hard wooden door waiting to hear my dear cousin to let us in. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat, “Yes, the exact one.” As soon as the door opened I squeezed between Bilbo and the door frame as the young dwarves introduced themselves, not giving them the opportunity to saying anything further to me. “Archer, where have you been?” he asked in his usual frantic tone as Fili kept handing him his weapons while Bilbo order Kili not to scrape his boots on some family whatever. “Archer I want an answer!”
I blocked out his voice as I notice more dwarves in our dinning room. “Archer!” I heard my name and a load thud, the next thing I know dwarves vastly out numbers us. Bilbo nearly bursted a blood vessel when they started singing and throwing his dishes about, I however enjoyed their song and laughed when Bilbo realized that they cleaned his dishes. He turned to me and smiled. He and I both knew it has been a while since I actually laughed. But the mood however changed when there was another knock on the door. “I’ll get it.” I said as his eyes lit up while I made my way to the door. “May be having these dwarves here are not so bad?” he asked himself.
I swung open the door to see a familiar face, one I haven’t seen in a long time. “Thorin?” A smirk pulled at the corner of his lip. He was like a second father to me, while my father was away on his journeys it was Thorin that helped raise me. He was much of a father as my real father and another male figure that I looked up to “Well, well, if it isn’t Little Archer.” This time it was I that gave him a smile as I pulled him into my arms, “It has been so long, Thorin, I thought you have forgotten me.”
“Now how could I ever forget my little girl?” He pulled me away and glazed at me from head to toe. “You have grown into a fine woman. Your father would be proud. Last I saw you, your hair was in braids and ribbons, now look, no ribbons and your hair is down.” He took a brief pause and kissed the top of my head, “One fine woman you turned out to be.”
“Thank you Thorin. Come in.” I said stepping aside to let him pass, and I found a bit of myself return. All the dwarves filled the hall so there was no escaping them. “Allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” The wizard announced to Bilbo and I, little did he know I already knew him. Thorin proceed to ask my dear cousin what weapons he would reach for, but of course he was only good at clonkers, causing them all to laugh. “Archer has more experience, and her training was not even completed.” He turned to me and raised his head just a bit as he looked down his nose at Bilbo, but then diverted his attention to me, “I am surprised that you do not ask the nature of my visit, or just at the mention of the quest?” I looked down finding his eyes suddenly difficult to gaze at. I distance myself from the group and motioned to Bilbo, “I’ll, uh, get food...”
“Archer, you all right?” Bilbo asked as I shoved past some dwarves to get to the kitchen to fix Thorin so food, but all I could manage was soup after my kin was done. I was in a daze as I poured my second papa a bowl of soup. “This is the first time I heard you say more than a few words in weeks, what is it about this dwarf that’s loosened your tongue?”
“Its just... Thorin was like a second father to me. When my father was away he would take care of me. He was there everyday with us when my pa died... I owe him a lot Bilbo, I owe him my life.” I pushed passed him and went to where there little meeting was being held. “Here you are Thorin.” As I placed it in front of him he gazed up at me and gave me a smile. “Thank you Archer.” I returned the gesture and he turned back to this kin and discus the matters of their quest. Oh how I desperately wanted to join them, I always wanted to go on an adventure, but being under my mother’s thumb there was no way she would let me go. Bilbo was lucky to be considered but I don’t believe he has the stomach for, in fact he actually fainted. “Bilbo!” I rushed to his and franticly fanned him with my hand. “Billy, come on Billy-boy, snap out of it! Wakie wakie!” I began shacking him but it didn’t seem to help much. “Forgive me dearest.” I let out a sigh and swept my hand across the face, his eyes snapped open. “Sorry...”
“Archer!” My mother yelled from the end of the hall, “Have you no consideration for your poor mama?”
“Mama I... forgive me...” I rose to my feet as she hustled over to me and slapped me straight across the face. My head froze over my left shoulder from where it was forced to turn and my hair fell in my face so I could only guess at the expressions they were wearing. “What business do you have wandering about this time of night, do you care for your reputation? Half the Shire claims to see you roaming about at night, and half of those hobbits believe you to be a harlot! Do you think any decent man would want a harlot as a wife, do you think it is easy for me to bare witness to such accusations.”
I forced my head back to look at her but her glare bore into my face too intensely and caused me to look at my bare feet. “I needed–”
“I do not care what you ‘need’ the only thing you need is a decent life and a good reputation. Esbin Underhill, is a fine respectable hobbit of the Shire and–”
“He is an old man, as far as hob–” She slapped me once more silincing me and continuing her lecture. “He so happens to find you attractive, you should be grateful. You will never have to worry about him wandering or his eyes falling on another. So smile my dear you will have a good life with him and bare as many children as he wants, so help me!”
“Giselle,” Thorin strode over to her with crossed arms.
“Thorin Oakenshield, what a pleasure,” she gave a small curtsy before straightening her back and sticking her nose in the air. “What can I do for you?”
“The first thing you can do is not strike her in my presence, the second is to allow her to accompany me on a quest to reclaim Erebor. I will take great care of her believe me.”
“No! No, there is no way that I am going to let you take her away!”
“And there is no way I will let you smother her to death! She was once a fire when I last saw her, she could put the sun to shame, but here you are forcing her to burn out. She is smoldering and you know as well as I that she cannot live like this–her soul cannot be contained in the minger rolling hills of the Shire. All I ask is for you just allow her to have one last adventure before you force her to enter into what you deem fit. I give you my word that she will be safe, I will keep a close eye on her and my eldest nephew, Fili, shell be by her side the whole journey, and I will train her further as to Declan’s wishes.”
She seemed to really ponder the thought before she let out one word. “Come with me my lord, and we shell write a formal contract, you too dear, come along.” Once my father’s name came up and how Thorin brought it up, and did his best to insure my safety, she had no choice. I was the fifteen member of the company, fourteenth if Bilbo decided not to come.