#occanon

Charlotte is soft, and warm, and gentle. That’s all Naomi’s mind is fully registering right now as she rests with her on the bed in the room of the home she shares with her older brother. Her older brother who is “mysteriously” absent right now; Naomi and Lottie both know where he is: he’s out with Michizou Tachihara on a “secret” date which isn’t really secret because they’re the only two of their entire friend group who still thinks that their relationship is a secret. Boys can be ridiculous that way, believing their lives are a secret when their friends and family can read them like open books.

As for Naomi… her own feelings about Lottie are becoming clearer and clearer as the red-haired girl wraps her arms around her shoulders, puts her other hand behind her head and threads her fingers through her waterfalls of black hair. She’s talking about something, but Naomi is more focused on the shapes her lips make as she speaks, the sounds of her Scottish accent coming through in her Japanese as she does, the way her voice changes pitch and tone as she describes her latest adventure in noveling and playwrighting.

She’s perfect, and beautiful, and everything Naomi once thought she wanted in a man, and everything she found she needed in a woman instead.

Naomi sighs gently, catching Lottie’s attention. She tilts her head to the side, not enough to really disturb Naomi from her spot on her chest, though Naomi also tilts her head up to look at her. The black sclera of her eyes has been called many things before, Lottie once explained with much embarrassment, but Naomi can only remember that she told Lottie she “thought they were the sweetest, prettiest eyes she’d ever looked into” in response.

“Something wrong, a rúnsearc?” Lottie asks, her voice softening from its previously animated state.

Naomi shakes her head gently, not wanting to pull her eyes from Lottie’s face for long. “No, no… I just think that I… I need you- no, I want you, in my life. That sounds nicer. More real.”

Naomi listens as Lottie’s breath catches in her throat, as her heartbeat stutters and then picks up, faster than before. Her cheeks flush pink, though Naomi isn’t doing much better there, because she’s blushing too now.

“Well… I want you in my life, too.” Lottie’s voice is still quiet, but strong, full of conviction. “Forever, preferably.”

In the unsettling moments after their arrival, a number of the dwarves were caught by surprise with a heavy wave of nausea. More than a few empties their stomachs, which took a good deal longer for poor Bombur, upon the ground they arrived upon. Bofur, still struggling to hold his dinner down, patted his brother’s back and tried to speak comfortingly, and it would have worked had he not been gagging every third word.

Those who weren’t divesting themselves of their dinner were looking around in various stages of dazed unease. Dwalin and Gloin recovered first and they were pacing a circle around the others, trying to spot any threats. The only thing they saw was a young boy, who was sitting in a swing nearby, staring at them, his jaw hanging. Dwalin cursed, while Gloin tried to apply his best “fun dad” voice to the situation.

“Hey, now, don’t worry ‘bout what ye just saw, laddie.” Gloin kept his hands up In a pacifying manner. “We jus’, erm, we jus’ go’ here, ain’t nothin’ t’ worry about…” and he sighed heavily when the child sprang off the bench and ran to the other side of a large construct, that the dwarf assumed to be a play space for the child, and likely any others who would come by.

“Moooooooooooooom!” The child yelled, running behind the structure.

The others clambered to their feet and stood in a tight group, around their youngest members and their leader. They also made certain to stand a comfortable distance from where some of them had heaved. Which was a lovely odd sort of picture when the child returned, with his mother in tow. The group rippled with some quiet murmurs, and Balin found himself pushed to the forefront.

“Ah, lass, we didn’t mean to frighten you’re bairn, quite sorry about that.” He said as politely and diplomatically as he could, praying to their distant Mahal that she both understood and would stay calm. In his experience mothers of small children could be quite unpredictable. With luck she wasn’t at all like the dwarrowdam who had lived near them back in Ered Luin, she would go off into fits of someone so much as looked at her wee dwarflings wrong.

The woman, who was quite unusual to them to start with, seemed to be entirely caught off guard. She had brightly colored hair, which no one among the dwarves even dared believe was natural, and wore tight fitting leggings, along with a low scoop cut blouse, with the face of a cat on it. Shocking to all of them was how short her hair was, buzzed on one side and longer on the other, it barely reached her chin. What sort of woman had so little hair!?

“Uhm…” She started, looking dumbfounded. A whole gaggle of oddly familiar men were staring at her and one spoke.

“They came from the air!” The boy said, gripping her hand with both of his and bouncing up and down with such enthusiasm that his mother was jerked around.

“Okay okay, leave my arm attached!” She hissed at him, drawing her hand back from the four year old. “I see them! Honey, I don’t think they came from nowhere. People don’t just… pop out of the air!”

“Moooom!” The boy insisted, sounding frustrated now. “They did!” He stomped his foot and crossed his arms over his TMNT t-shirt. “You never listen…” At four he felt very grown up now, and he also felt that his mother ought to listen to him more than she did sometimes.

While the two humans were speaking, Bifur looked over to see his cousin standing with his jaw hanging open, staring at the woman. He glanced between them for a second, before a smug grin spread on his face, and he eyed her more skeptically. She wasn’t a great deal taller than any of them, perhaps a handful of inches over Thorin’s height, and while she didn’t have the stockiness of a dwarf, she certainly had pleasant curves, and her clothes didn’t hide that fact at all. How did anyone let a woman like this out dressed so!? Then an awful thought struck him, if she had a child, she had a husband. He looked to Bofur once more, and saw the pain on his cousin’s face, feeling quite crestfallen himself. What an awful curse!

“Ah, yes, actually, miss, your young boy may have a point,” Balin ventured slowly. “We,” he glanced over at his king and received a subtle nod telling him to continue. “We did rather appear out of thin air.”

“Excuse me?” She faced him with her brows raised, looking skeptical and unamused. While she didn’t find offense in his attitude, she didn’t appreciate someone leading her son on about things she had just explained to him couldn’t happen. Something nagged the back of her mind every time she looked at them. They looked so familiar! Why couldn’t she place where she had seen them before?

Another figure pushed his way forward in the rag-tag group. “Ah, ye can’t really hold it against the poor lad, we did just pop up on him!” Bofur insisted, coming to the boy’s defense, if only because he couldn’t stand not saying something to her at the moment. “If yer gonna be angry at him fer his words--” “I’m not angry, I just didn’t want him telling me tall tales, thank you.” The woman replied curtly.

With a heavy sigh, Balin nudged Bofur back. “Before we get off on the wrong foot,” he shot the hatted dwarf a glare. “I apologize for my… friend.” Shaking his head he smiled politely once more. “My name is Balin, son of Fundin, at your service.” He bowed, and stood up to explain more, but saw the woman had clapped her hands over her mouth in shock. “I.. uhm… we, rather… a-are you alright?”

“Dwarves…” she muttered, recognizing them then. It had been a few years since she had watched any of those movies, or even read the book for that matter. But it was slowly clicking into place. They looked exactly like the cast of The Hobbit! “You’re… oh my!” What detailed cosplayers! As a bit of a nerd herself, though she tended towards more science fiction, she was thoroughly impressed. “Just missing a hobbit, huh?” “No! I’m right here!” Bilbo piped up, before he realized her statement was rather strange, considering they didn’t know her, and expected she didn’t know them. He shuffled through the dwarves to step forward.

“Wha--” This was too much suddenly. He was a very very tiny Martin Freeman. Quite exactly. Her eyes scanned the crowd, Aiden Turner, Richard Armitage, and Dean O’Gorman, those faces she recognized immediately, others she spotted but didn’t recall their names, for they hadn’t been in many other things she had watched. Dwalin and Bofur were among them. After a second she realized she was looking up at them, and a few were running to her side. Without realizing she had sat down quite abruptly, her legs giving out under her. “Y-- you… you… you’re… hu~uh~...” With an trembling exhale, she looked them all over.

She lifted one hand to grip her son’s wrist, reassuring herself he was still there. “Am… am I dreaming?” She asked them, quite calmly after a moment.

“No, lass.” Balin assured her in a gentle tone, knelt before her. She looked a touch too pale for his comfort. “You see true.”

“Take it easy now,” Bofur urged, crouched at her side. “Just breathe… tha’s a girl!” He reached out to gently rub her back, but couldn’t help but grimace when she tensed under his touch. “Sorry…”

“I’m… I’m alright… Just… gimme a sec.” She shivered, looking up at all of them. “What… are you doing here? You’re… you’re not…” “That damned wizard sent us here,” Thorin rumbled from nearby.

“That’s a bad word!” The boy piped up, pointing a finger at the king.

“Riordan!” His mother hissed.

Turning his blue gaze on the boy, Thorin cracked a grin after a second, and leaned down, setting his hands on his knees, as he had done with Kili and Fili when they were young. “That is is, young man. You’re very right, and I’m sorry if I used foul language in front of you and your mother. Will you forgive me?”

Not quite accustomed to being spoken to in such an adult way by strangers, most people tended to just pass the kid off as a young one who got half baby-talked to, Riordan slowly nodded, while leaning against his mother’s shoulder shyly. “Yeah.” Then, perhaps inspired by Thorin’s directness with him, he smiled, “I’m Riordan at your… uhm…” “Service,” Balin filled in for him, realizing the boy was mimicking his earlier introduction.

All of the dwarves grinned when the boy bowed, if a little awkwardly. While not all of them were fathers or uncles themselves, it was natural for their kind to cherish children. And the boy was undeniably adorable.

While this transpired, the woman slowly got herself back to her feet, brushing off her backside. “Right well I’m… I think I need to sit somewhere still… Rio, go play some more, okay? Let mommy think a bit.” She ushered her boy off towards the playground.

Riordan didn’t seem too pleased, but he followed her command, not before groaning in exasperation. However at the prospect of playing, instead of talking to a bunch of adults, he was soon bounding off to have fun on the playground equipment.

Balin helped the woman over to a bench, and watched as she sat down. He took a seat next to her. “I’m sorry if we upset you, lassie. We’re quite out of sorts ourselves. You see… we were on a bit of a journey--” “I bet.” “When we were sent here.” Balin looked over at her, wondering what she had meant.

“So… so you’re… you’re really real…?” She looked over at him, raising her hand to gently touch his shoulder, then it ghosted up to his cheek. Eventually she straight up poked his nose, gently of course.

Balin chuckled, letting her touch his face, realizing she was still trying to cope with this new reality as much as they were. At least they had had warning. “Aye, lass, we’re quite real. Ah, now, this here is Bofur, and here is Dori, Ori, Dwalin, and our leader, Thorin. And our b-- hobbit, Bilbo.” Introducing him as a burglar seemed in poor taste in this situation. “And that’s Fili and Kili, playing with your lad.” Looking up, she smiled a little to watch her son laughing as the dark haired brother caught him at the bottom of the tall slide, the lighter haired dwarf at the top, having followed him up. “I’m Piper.” She introduced herself, looking over to Thorin first then. “So… you’re really dwarves… of Middle Earth?”

“You know of us?” Thorin asked, suddenly on edge.

“Y-yeah…” Piper’s mind flashed a red flag. If she told them of certain events… it could be disastrous, she’d seen too many television shows dealing with time travel and knew she couldn’t tell them. “Your world… is a land of fable in ours. It’s a story book. A very old one, actually. But… how are you here?” “Gandalf.” Thorin huffed. “Likely the doing of the Valar, for what reason I cannot fathom.” He looked away, at his nephews who were happily entertaining the boy and giving Piper time to think. Though he almost wondered, watching Kili going down the ramp on his behind, that his younger nephew wasn’t doing it just for fun himself. He caught Fili’s eye and the two exchanged a nod. Yes, they were good lads, and quite understanding.

“I see… so you just got sent here? Why here?” Piper asked, looking around at them all as they were once again gathering around her.

“We don’t really know for sure, except Gandalf said we would be safe here.” Bilbo spoke, from not too far from her knee. He winced when she jumped, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. This must all be quite surprising for you.”

“For me…?” Piper’s eyes widened, “Not nearly as much as it must be for all of you!” Looking around at them, she realized that they stood out like a sore thumb. “Oh boy… uhm, you know you don’t exactly fit in… right?” In particular she eyed Dwalin and his axes. This could start a scene if someone came along. During a busy weekday, this park wasn’t very often occupied, but it wouldn’t be long before students were getting out of school. “We should go, all of you can’t be seen here, someone will… anyone could…” Shaking her head, she stood up, “I can fit you all in the back of my truck…” “And why should we follow you?” Dwalin rumbled, arms crossed. He hadn’t liked the way she eyed his weapons with such obvious distaste.

“We aren’t to cause any trouble!” Bilbo interjected, “I’m sure being seen out here wandering around like vagabonds would be trouble!” Thorin looked down at their burglar and nodded slowly, “The hobbit has a point. It seems we have found someone we must trust, just as the wizard said.” He turned, stepping in front of Piper, the others moving out of his way. “Lady Piper, we humbly beg your aid in this land, which is strange to us. We will follow your lead.”

Staring at him, her mouth moving without sound, Piper nodded, in a slow and rather disconnected sort of way. “Right…” She breathed the word out before she felt her lips quirking into a faint smile of disbelief. “Okay, right,” confidence began to fill her voice and she nodded. “Boys!” Turning, she faced the playground, “Riordan, bring your friends. It’s pizza night!”

“PIZZA!” Riordan slid down the fireman’s pole and sprinted for his mom. Except he tripped first, landing flat on his face in the wood chips. He got up, sniffling and whining as though he was about to cry. Before the tears could come, both Fili and Kili were at his side, the elder brother brushing off the bits of wood clinging to the boy. They joked and cheered him up, quietly, so as to, in their minds, let the boy retain his pride. Soon he was smiling, and Kili hoisted the boy onto his shoulders, bouncing him as they returned to the rest of their group.

Piper just smiled and shook her head at them, quite used to her son’s rough and tumble antics. “Silly half-pint.” She teased him, reaching out to poke her son’s tummy, earning a giggle. This was all so strange, it hurt her head to think about it too much. But she was quite certain she wasn’t dreaming, and they were, in fact, very real. The implications of the whole matter she could think through later, for now she had the inclination to deal with things as best she could think how. And getting them off the street, out of the open, seemed the smartest idea. It had been two years ago she had inherited a plot of property that belonged to her family, first her grandparents and then her parents, and now her, a good nine miles out from town, it was ten acres of wooded land. Her grandparents had been loggers, and her parents had helped them purchase the land to retire on, following suit when the time came. It was after her parents had passed, within months of each other, that she’d become the owner. It provided the seclusion needed for her usually reclusive personality, and now the seclusion needed by the company. The company of Thorin Oakenshield. Oh she so badly wanted to reread that book!

Grabbing up her oversized purse, which was really just an old diaper bag she used for outings now, she motioned for the group to follow her. She could hear them talking amongst themselves, parts of it she caught, them wondering if she was trustworthy, which she understood, for she would feel the same if the situation was reversed. Bless the gods it wasn’t! Thinking back on the world she had seen in the movies, she repressed a shudder. Nope, she was happy living in a world where orcs simply didn’t exist. Listening still to the talk around her, she realized parts of the conversation were in a language she didn’t know. Of course, the dwarves had their own language, everyone in Middle Earth did. She didn’t recall the name of it though, but looked back at the two speaking it. The one with the hat, Bo---Bo… Bofur! Right, and the one with an axe in his head. However did he survive!? And how was he not suffering from metal poisoning, or any other infections?! Chalking it up to dwarven immunity, she let it go. One more thought to address later.

Bofur caught Piper looking over at them and he smiled, “Ah, my cousin, Bifur, was just wondering… what’s a truck?”

The whole of the company fixed their attention on Piper, and she nearly stumbled then, not used to being the center of attention. This was why she had found a way to work from home. “U-uh… it’s well… it’s like a cart… without horses… it’s got a motor, uhm… an engine… machine thing that powers it.” There were many looks of curious interest, and she hoped they wouldn’t get too curious and take it apart when she wasn’t looking or something of that nature. Instead she pointed ahead to her pickup truck. It was her dad’s old truck, with a canopy on the back, the windows tinted. She had used it many times for short camping excursions, sleeping in the back instead of a tent. “Okay, so some ground rules, no bouncing around in it, okay? Makes steering hard.” Hauling her cousin’s pack of large dogs around for a week while her cousin was out of town had taught her that. “So, here’s the plan, since I don’t really have anything read to feed a whole herd of dwarves.”

“HERD?!” A few voices objected.

She turned over her shoulder and raised a brow, “You do look like one.” That seemed to leave a few grumbles, but even the members of the company had to relent that she was right. “Like I said, a whole herd of dwarves and one hobbit, so we’ll be picking up some food. Which means seeing people. Probably we’ll fit most of you in the back, the windows are tinted, so unless you’re right up against them, no one should notice you. People up front, let me do the talking.” “Aye, lass, that’s wise.” Balin said, quickly before anyone else could object. He knew his kin were a stubborn lot, and could be boisterous and often spoke before thinking. “We’ll do what you ask.”

And so it was that Piper Janet Morgan found herself loading up thirteen dwarves and one hobbit into her truck. Thorin, Balin, Fili and Kili sat in the cab with her, the two boys relegated to the back, on either side of Riordan’s booster seat, and the king and his advisor in the front with her. Everyone else was put in the back. Bofur and Nori carefully kept Bilbo between them, setting him on the wheel well, so that he wasn’t squished in among the rest of the dwarves. Dwalin had his back to the cab, scowling as they were shut in. Bombur had taken a little help to get up onto the tailgate, and the woman was so very glad she hadn’t taken her cousin’s advice and put a lift kit on the truck. They’d never have gotten the rotund dwarf up there!

After explaining the seat belts, Piper started the engine, and waited a second to let her little herd adjust. Then they rolled out. Fili and Kili were plastered to their windows, and as much as he tried to keep his image up, Thorin was quite the same. Balin, seated in the center, had to spread his legs to keep from being hit in the knee by the stick shift. He watched as she piloted the vehicle, asking questions now and then about it, which he was quite pleased to find she gladly answered. He was aware, at times that she was keeping it simple, and he knew he wouldn’t understand all of it she didn’t.

“Momma, can we have music?” Riordan asked, after a moment of being bored, because his two seatmates were ignoring him. Though his question got Kili to look back at them.

“No, not right now, Rio. Later okay? I wanna be able to talk to Balin.” Piper explained to him, glancing at the child-mirror she had clipped on her visor. “Why don’t you read one of your books, okay?”

“Okay…” the boy sighed, but reached into the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him, pulling out a book about horses.

It wasn’t long until Fili had leaned in to look at it with him, it was mostly pictures, but a few simple words. He could recognize the type as being what he knew as Westron, but it was so uniform, he wondered how it had been written so neatly. As he listened to the boy reading, struggling with a few words, he smiled and quietly helped the lad. “Gallop.”

“The horse can… gallop.” Riordan repeated, and looked up with a grin, then went to the next page. “The horse can jump!”

The ride to the sole Pizza Hut in town went this way, Balin asking questions, Thorin studying the world around them, Kili looking at all the buildings with awe, and Fili reading a child’s book with Riordan, and the rest of the company bouncing around in the back.

“You’ll never fit in wearing those clothes though…” Piper mused to Balin as they pulled out of the parking lot. He and Thorin had been charged with holding the stacks of pizza boxes, which everyone agreed smelled delicious, since they wouldn’t fit in the backseat with the boys. Balin had quickly surmised that left in the back with the others, there would be none left when they got to Piper’s place.

“We have no other clothing, I’m afraid.” Balin shook his head. “We’ll just have to make do.”

“Mmm, no.” Piper shook her head, “We can get some clothes to fit you. There’s a thrift shop in town that sells second hand clothes, and if nothing there fits, then I know a good store to get decent priced stuff.”

“We have only a little coin ourselves yet.” Balin said with some uncertainty. “I doubt we could afford to buy ourselves new wardrobe just yet.”

Piper shook her head again, turning them down a different street. “Wouldn’t matter, our currency isn’t the same. Don’t worry, I have plenty enough for some new clothes for you guys. I do actually earn quite a bit myself.”

“What is it you do?” Thorin was the one to speak up then, having been listening to the conversation.

“I’m… well, I… see there’s uh…” Piper fumbled, trying to figure out how to explain what it was to be a programmer. “Okay so, we have a lot of uhm, technology, very advanced machines that run on… data, uh, information and it’s all written up in a certain language that these computers, the machines, can understand. It’s really complex, in a way, and… well I write that, and fix errors in it.” She frowned, knowing she wasn’t doing very good at this. “It’s a necessity, everything runs on code now, so it’s a good paying job.”

“It must be hard to explain, we have nothing of the like.” Balin said with a reassuring smile. He was also sneaking one of the pizza boxes open, having found the side that admitted such, and he peered at the food. “What is this again?” He asked, half to give her something easier to talk about, and half because the smell of the food was overpowering his senses and his stomach was rumbling. “PIZZA!” Riordan cheered, “Pizza pizza pizza!”

“Inside voice, young man.” Piper chastised, “It’s flatbread, with sauce and cheese and toppings. Also it’s Rio’s favorite.”

“I gathered that,” The old dwarf chuckled merrily.

In the bed of the truck, everyone was sniffing and mumbling in anticipation of whatever that was the smelled so good.

“So she’s go’ a decent job, an’ she’s go’ ‘nough to feed us!” Gloin mused, “Sounds like a nice lass!”

“You’re just thinking with your stomach,” Nori said with a smug grin. “Sounds like we’re getting new clothes too.” He turned to look over at his friend with the hat, and saw a strange melancholy on his face. That was odd. But soon they had turned onto a rougher road, that wasn’t made of the strange packed rock stuff, and their attention turned to keeping themselves in their spots, and not being impaled upon their weapons.He and Bofur had their arms clasped in front of Bilbo, after the hobbit had nearly been shot off his perch.

“Slow it down, will ya!?” Barked Dwalin, as he grasped the lip of the truck bed tightly. “Crazy woman is gonna be the death of us!”

However, they were at their destination soon enough, all marveling they had traveled so far in such a short period. And they looked up at the tall house before them. It was two stories tall, and though they couldn’t see it, it had a full basement as well.

“C’mon in, and we’ll get you fed, then I can pop back for some clothes at the shop.” Piper said, getting out of her door. “Ah, Thorin, Balin, would you two be willing to go back to town with me, you can help make sure I buy the right sizes.” “Of course, lass.” Balin smiled, handing her the stack of pizzas so he could get out of the tall truck. Thorin managed to jump down without losing any of his load. And the boys were out, having figured out how to unbuckle Riordan too, following the boy to the door while his mother opened the hatch and let down the tailgate to let the others out. “Be happy to help.” “Lets have PIZZA!” Riordan squealed in delight, getting cheers from the two princes at his side.