Returning Home: A Hobbit Fanfiction

Chapter 38 - Returning Home

Laurel Owen forced her eyes open as she sat up with a gasp, clutching her hand to her chest. Even after all these years in a human world, somehow human herself, it was still strange to fall asleep with her eyes closed. 

She'd gotten used to the other human oddities after a time, but it seemed she would never be able to truly rest, knowing she was shutting out the stars. Back ... there... he had placed an opening in the roof, so that when they laid down to rest she could immediately see the stars. Everything was open there, connected to nature. It was so different here. 

It was easier, in some ways, than her home. Transportation was faster than anything she had ever seen in all her long years. Communication was possible across long distances with just the press of a button, and the indoor plumbing was amazing. That, and the air conditioning. 

But it was small consolation when she woke up alone in her bed, her fingers creeping across the cold sheets where no one had laid down to rest. When she heard the laughter of children, but they were not hers, when the last time she had been called 'nana' was decades ago. 

When she combed her hair, and her fingertips brushed against the rounded tips of her ears, marking yet another thing that had been taken from her.

It had gotten better, recently. She'd moved to the fairly small city almost twenty years ago, and had quietly tried to shape a new life there whilst simultaneously trying to hang onto what was left of her old one. 

She knew what had happened to her - or, at least had made a fairly informed guess. She'd become a randir. A pilgrim. A wanderer between worlds that hadn't chosen her path, and wandered aimlessly, with no set purpose.

And then there had been the fire at the orphanage. Deliberately set by the director, all of the children had miraculously escaped. Fighting the urge to put an arrow through the man for putting so many lives in danger, she'd done whatever she could to help the now homeless children, offering donations and helping to raise awareness. But she had been unable to just leave it at that. And after spending so much time with all the children, her attention had been caught by two in particular.

Twins, or so it was believed, they had been found in the backyard of an abandoned house a year or so earlier, with no knowledge of their parents or their background. Somewhere around four or five years old, she wasn't quite sure, but they were small for their age, and something in their eyes drew her to them. 

A bit of paperwork later, and she had adopted them. Now that she knew more about this world, she was sure it was only the extenuating circumstances that had warranted her being allowed to take them with so little effort. 

But it wasn't until she'd brought them home that she'd realized who they really were. What they were. She had never been very close to any dwarves, but she could recognize their handiwork when she saw it - she'd been around when they were still on fairly agreeable terms with the elves, after all, before the whole silly squabble had started. 

Her husband was always quick to blame it on the dwarves, saying that only they could be responsible for such a needless fight. But she was more of the opinion that it was a result of two stubborn races who struggled to understand the meaning of the word 'diplomacy', firstborn of Iluvatar or no.

It wasn't just the necklaces' creators, though. Made of mithril, a metal that didn't even exist on this world, that could only mean one of a few options. One possibility was that the children were heirs to the throne of Erebor or otherwise highly connected - for who else would have access to that precious metal? It was so valuable that even nobility would have struggled to lay claim to it - particularly for something like jewelry, as opposed to armor. And yet, here were two children who wore the signature lockets, made completely of mithril.