#and so first I got spooked by a big round object that looked like jean jacket | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blankdblank · 4 years

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Next Caller Pt 5

* A couple hours earlier *

Still mid call with Dain in his try to figure out who was behind the show Gorgo sat in her office that Gimli and Gloin had stopped in the office across from to give her some privacy. Admiring the new art on the wall Gimli kept busy while Gloin glanced at his still buzzing phone deciding to silence the guys in their constant requests for updates. Calling Thorin he said, “Thorin, none of you mentioned the Lass worked for Findis for 12 years.”

Through the line he could feel their moment of looking at one another around the phone on speaker before Dwalin asked, “She works at Findis? We never got that far.”

Thorin, “Only came up how long her shifts were. She had a good review then?”

Gloin, “The Dominic fiasco, she fixed it.”

Balin, “Impressive. No doubt they will have ample tales to share on our young Lass.”

Gloin, “Well, tomorrow is her day off, I’ll be there with all the details for her.”

Dwalin, “What did she settle on? We caught you mentioning she could afford a home.”

Gloin, “Cerulean Circle. Perfect for her to grow into.”

Thorin, “Better deal than her current expense?”

Gloin smirked, “Around 500 cheaper a month.”

Thorin, “Good. It was what she wanted all around?”

Gloin, “She expected a closet I assume. Seemed nervous, assuming it would all get pulled out from under her. I don’t know what she’s faced before in backlash for her relatives, this house is exactly what she deserves right now. So no spooking her tomorrow with any comments on anything going wrong or foul weather or any omens, nothing, I don’t want to risk startling the poor dear she’s had a rough few centuries so far.”

Dwalin, “We wouldn’t dream of it. The boys will behave we’ll see to it.”

They couldn’t even begin to imagine what to expect of Beryl. All the news shared was that it was this ghastly place, but with the fact that you had lived there each of them had a hint of hope that it wasn’t as terrible as others had let on. An hour and a half drive from their familiar city to endless interstate flipped suddenly to what they could only link to a sort of resort style decor. Bright but empty buildings that would seem like they would be lovely and ready to open up for the day yet the empty flowering cacti lined streets were bare of any customers. Word apparently had passed on and if someone would be taking over the city it seemed easier as all the Troll, Orc and Uruk-hai citizens were driving opposite ways from where they were headed with loaded trucks of their own leaving just the gleeful goblins strolling by between groups of Easterlings glaring at each truck passing by.

Up to the lot behind your building they pulled in and Thorin exited the van with his cousins and Nephews while the Driver stayed in the truck watching the group of Uruk-hai teens loading up more boxes into their own while their mother nursed their sister. Peering up at the oddly cheerful yellow shingled building with ample windows, balconies and a glass roof for the very top floor surrounded by sectioned off planters with clearly dug up plants a trio of Trolls were potting to transfer to their owners in their group upping arrival. Fili, “Not what I pictured.”

Bilbo, “Certainly not what the news says it’s like.”

Gloin eyed the building saying, “17th floor.”

Thorin glanced at his cousin and sighed joining Dwalin on leading the way into the stunningly picturesque apartment lobby with crisp white and gold accented wingback furniture and cherry tables topped by gold lights filling the place. Into the massive elevator they all squeezed and Kili said, “There’s no floor 17.”

Gloin cleared his throat feeling eyes on him and said, “A renter refused to sacrifice space to aid in continuing the lift shaft.”

Bofur couldn’t help but snort behind his hand and Kili hit the button and the men sighed hating they would have to take two flights of stairs. Only at the 15th floor they noticed the ceilings for higher and in the stairwell they realized there was four flights they would have to trek to get to your floor. Groaning on the whole path they finally reached your floor eyeing the hand carved doors each with stunning tunes and images etched into the wooden slats on the metal doors.

The one on the end sticking out by the much older wood and firefly accented door above the yellow and black diagonally striped mat outside drew them to it. The opening of the one across from it however halted the men who eyed the massive pair of Uruk-hai brothers standing at over eight feet tall who looked them over in return only to nod their heads and shift allowing the bubbly blonde half Troll women through. The last who said in a thick accent, “Good to see ta Bun has moving hands.”

Her mate grunted in return, “Not much to move,” shifting to grab an armful of ukulele cases his brother grabbed the rest of.

The other male said with a point, “Trash chute is silver, big shaft, take that to 15, how we moved couches.”

Thorin nodded, “Will do, thank you.”

His wife grinned and passed Dwalin a decorative pan in the shape of a flower, “For ta Bun, luck and safe for move.”

Dwalin nodded in their path to the stairs leaving their empty oblong apartment open, “I’ll give it to her.”

“You help ta Bun?” A voice behind them boomed and it seemed more and more doors opened up with the same question being asked until all five doors around them had been left open and empty apartments sat open in the families heading down to their vehicles.

Pulling the lever in the wall next to the door frame Bilbo drew the focus back to your apartment at the muffled buzzing sound followed by a muffled thud narrowing eyes at the door. Suddenly it swung open and with a panting grin you eyed the group of Dwarves behind the Hobbit who flashed you a quick grin once his eyes had trailed the lightning streak like scar along your collar bone in a telling white on your olive skin revealed in your sideways slanted baggy tank top over ink stained jean shorts and bright green converse. “Hey, um, wow you brought a group, I pictured like, three of you.”

Thorin smirked and rumbled back, “What use would three be in emptying a house? Your neighbors gifted, ta Bun, a bunch of tins.”

In their flashing you the tins you grinned, “Aww, so sweet of them they didn’t have to.”

Dwalin, “Can we ask why?”

“I’m the elder on the floor. You always gift the eldest before you leave a territory.” When you stepped back you said, “Guess we can see how many of you fit.”

Peering inside Dwalin asked eyeing the floor to ceiling piles of books with cubbies filled with knickknacks, sketches and mini framed portraits. “You didn’t pack?” All across the walls around the cubbies and cabinets acting as your closet surely showed little effort towards moving past the laundry basket with blankets, sheets and pillows on top of the blood boiling twin sized mattress on a four inch platform.

Turning around from your path to the kitchen you eyed the shelves and giggled approaching one. At the base you tapped your foot on the blue slanted square pattern all at once causing in a ripple the cubbies to drop into the base until in a line of trunks the bare walls were revealed. Some with a few collapsing trunks resting one on top of the other or even more behind the first row parting their lips. “Sorry, keep forgetting only Trolls make them.” You said stepping around your troll sized armchair and round end table clearly acting as your dinner table on the lone patch of tile acting as your dining area against the jut out spot where your shelves for the open pantry was.

Bofur said, “Very handy.”

“Packed up the kitchen should be room for the gifts still.”

Splitting up the men divided to grab the trunks to fill the carts they brought for the trash chute. Just leaving a bed sheet coated object and the bed Kili tapped the triangle on making it snap up too luring a smirk across his lips while holding the laundry basket of sheets to carry down with the rest of it all until the room was empty except for the sheet coated object Thorin and Gloin were staring at.

Pointing at it Fili asked, “Miss Pear, what’s under the sheet?”

Gloin, “It’s not your bird cage, is it?”

You shook your head, “No, they’re up top. That’s my piano.”

Unable to help it Thorin smirked and purred, “You have a piano in all this?”

Firing back with a playful smirk you walked over and pulled back the sheet dropping their jaws seeing the partial geode carved piano with stone legs and crystal revealed top housing the keys and compartment for the strings and mounts. “Where-,” Gloin rasped out.

With a smirk you replied, “Gift from my Gran.”

Dwalin, “That’s singing stone.”

“Yes it is.” Still smirking as it registered that it was crafted from stones known to him along to whatever tune you played harmonizing to even the simplest of tunes. “Lighter than it looks.” You said guiding the Dwarves to lift the instrument and set it on the cart. While that went down you led Bilbo, Thorin and Dwalin upstairs. Right behind you Bilbo wondered just where this supposed garden of yours was only to let out a gasping squeal in seeing the stunning oasis under the golden light refracted into dozens of rainbows around the planters of various flowers, small fruit bearing trees, vines and bushes beside the trunks you closed holding your potatoes, carrots and green beans. “Now it shouldn’t be too heavy to manage, those are Uruk planters, fairly light for most races though a bit cumbersome and I’ll get the swings.”

Thorin muttered to himself, “Swings..” eyeing the Elven rope contraptions laced between support beams with bells and nipping decorations showing signs of being pecked at and adjusted.

Fili begins his uncles climbed up next saying, “I thought they said you had birds.”

“Be nice Kuu,” you said and his gaze followed yours to his left. With eyes widening at the once thought odd shimmering silver white speckled bush with a silvery green eye aimed right at Dwalin in the head turning around revealing the face of the turning three foot Great Owl chick from his being woken by the scent and sounds of the strangers.

Kili let out a breath of air, “You have a Great Owl..”

Moving past the Dwarves you shifted the hamster carrier like cage packed with woven tufts of grass and soft clover holding the egg carton like holder with the shimmering galaxy humming bird flock seated in and around the nests watching those around you. Curiously Thorin moved closer to a yellow and orange crystal box with a slot in the top filled with coins he shifted sideways to read the word ‘Rent’ across the top on a piece of painting tape. His smirk however fell at the sudden appearance of the nearly two foot tall zebra striped raven now dangling sideways on one of the swings squawked at Thorin who whispered in Raven tongue, “Hello.”

Belly replied, “Hello, that is my rent. Mind the box, it is heavy.”

Thorin smirked deeper and nodded as you said, “This is Balakavallatagh, but only I can call him Belly.”

Belly nodded, “Only Jack Rabbit.”

Bilbo after touring the mini garden helping the Dwarves on how to close or carry each planter asked, “Jack Rabbit?”

Grinning at him you said, “My name is Jaqiearae.”

He nodded, “Ah, what does ta Bun mean?”

Weakly you chuckled adjusting your sleeve to sit on your shoulder again only for it to slide off once more calling eyes back to your scar, “Trolls and Uruk call you by the meaning of your name. Jack Rabbit is a slur in their tongues. They call hare, bun. So, the Bun. You add ‘ta’ to alert others that it’s a name.”

Bilbo nodded, “Makes sense.”

Dwalin asked noticing the stained glass wrought iron panels, “What is that glass there?”

Your head turned and Belly said, “Houses stripped for travel.”

Fili looked at the Owl as he stretched his wings and shivered fluffing up his feathers mumbling, “We were told it was a long distance.”

Smirking to yourself you brought over a wicker basket with a lid you carried between the confused men saying, “Alright Kuu, lets get you down the steps and you can nap in here.”

Hopping off the short perch the men watched his strut to the steps only to slide down the railing and land with a clack of his talons muffling. Bofur chuckled seeing you crouch to raise him on your arm that lowered into the basket he nestled into as you added the lid, seen to close his eyes again through the open slot in the side. To join his friend Belly slid next halting the Dwarves there gawking at the impossibly rare breed of Raven looking each of them over with his pale green gold flecked eyes while you went up again. Each planter was being brought down while you reached up giving simple tugs on the swings that came free and filled the second basket. From downstairs you heard Belly call out, “Travel tunes!”

“I got it.” You called back making the men around you chuckle again.

Dwalin, “Travel tunes?”

Weakly you chuckled, “Insisted I make a mix tape of their favorite songs to pass the time. Never been in a car before.”

Gloin, “Can’t wait to hear what their choice is,” holding a small pear tree following Bifur with the orange tree.

Bilbo asked, “How did you manage all this? I don’t mean to insult you, but this isn’t exactly prime condition for crops.”

“I’m half Vanyar, we’re a little bit impossible.”

Dwalin rumbled, “Other half Hobbit no doubt.”

“No, Teleri, Hobbit and Maiar.” Halting him for a moment to look you over, “His Mom was half Hobbit, so, close.”

Thorin, “Maiar?”

You nodded, “Only like an eighth? I think, hard to keep up the math. I’m a mutt.” Looking to Bilbo you said, “It’s not that hard, just have to find the right mix for the soil and add in extra minerals and adjust each to fit the best sunlight positions.”

On the other end of the room Kili asked, “Miss, um, what happened to your bike?”

You turned looking at the half of your bike left by the remnants of your homemade washing machine, “That was my washing machine that also hooked up with the sprinklers.”

Bilbo, “Sprinklers?” You nodded and showed him the bucket of hoses you had used to link up to the part of the roof that flooded you used as a makeshift water well for the plants emptied by the force of the pump you had made.

Bofur, “How did you come up with all this?”

You looked at him, “Had a lot of time to myself in Ruun. You pick up a lot on how to work with scraps.”

The men collectively repeated the name of the now destroyed island prison the Dark Elves from past the Smoking Cinders Forest below Orcarni had held thousands of Elves captive from the forces they faced in the wars centuries back. “Ruun?!”

You nodded, “Service was mandatory in Nuunife, 50 years. 2 years in our freighter was hit, again, my name had me snatched up from the wreckage, even though I was an engineer. Wasn’t that bad, past the first couple months…”

Again Bilbo’s eyes fell to your shoulder at the stroke of your fingers along the scar, “They did that?”

“Um, the carrier got hit by something, the reactor surged, caught me, but they have uv markers, to brand their prisoners. It’s there, and on the back,” you shook your head, “You don’t need to look at me like that. Staged a coup and stole one of their carriers we managed to get to Numenor. Discharged, with honors outstanding.”

Lowly Gloin said patting your other shoulder, “No doubt in that.”

Bilbo wet his lips, “I only mention, that is, I’m a tattoo artist, if you like we work with uv often, it is fairly easy to cover if it is old.”

“Well it was seven centuries back.”

Bilbo grinned at you, “I’ll leave you my card, we can set up an appointment to think up a design you might like whenever you like. No worries on the cost, we always offer free for jobs like this for former service men and women.”

You nodded and turned to help gather the rest of the odds and ends until you were joining the guys down. Holding the hummingbird carrier with Belly on your shoulder nuzzling against your head to keep calm at his first and last time out of this apartment with you while Kuu tried to sleep riding on the cart in his basket. Through the slot on the locked office wall Bilbo slid the envelope holding the key to your open apartment and joined you all on the walk to the waiting van beside the locked up truck.

In the back of the trunk Kuu was settled while Belly and the carrier were with you in the front seat you buckled into. Into the slot the mix tape was eased and your fingers rose to smooth against your forehead as the first song popped up. For an hour the songs would play and for the embarrassment you had assumed to feel the singing and bouncing Dwarves joined the birds bopping along to ‘Safety Dance’ to start off the long voyage.

There was no time for sentiment, no time to take a lingering stroll through the tiny apartment, not while your mind raced at all you had shared in these past few days. No one had ever asked about your scar before, a stunning fact stinging at you. No one had asked why you were so fine with being alone and living in such cramped quarters, were used to going without. Or how you had grown to be so comfortable with the supposed rougher races who mainly had a lifetime a third of all the others explaining why they would use surrogates from the race of Men every other generation to hopefully extend that precious time they had together. No one had cared to try and help you like this before, and it was highly understated that you were beyond baffled as to how to behave after this.

As fast as you had been moved out your things were moved to the equivalent of the rooms they had been taken from and a call from the owner of the truck had the guys off again. One lingering awed gaze at the greenhouse was what Bilbo got to take with him before managing to slip you his card to come up with your tattoo idea. And with the closing of your forest green door you turned with a grin to Belly with his head cocked on top of one of your trunks only to join you in a giddy hop while you let out an excited squeak.

Through the house you showed the birds then got to assembling their homes again in the greenhouse while they flew around inspecting the arches and domed ceiling praising the home you had found for all of you. From above between glances off the arches they helped to guide you in laying out the planters to better spots. All sharing their eagerness to see how the earth would take their plants once you had moved them from their planters finally. Their swings were next with Belly helping to guide the ropes and swings under them with much more space this time around for their bells and dangling perches. Carefully you helped to resettle the nests for the hummingbirds back in their home they thanked you for then nestled on top of again to nap from their tiring day ensuring their favorite flowers were taking in all the sunlight they could before they had drifted off.

Though on your walk back to the kitchen you paused hearing your doorbell ring. With your head cocked you walked through the house to your front door. Opening it you found Thorin holding Belly’s tape, “Forgot this.”

“You drove all the way back to give me this?”

A moment his lips pursed and he replied, “No.” Your brow inched up and he lifted a bag from his side, “I brought food. It needs to cool, so I thought you might need help unpacking your kitchen?”

“I knew you were up to something.” His brow inched up, “Trying to subtly hide my dishes too high up for me to reach.” Earning an eye roll from him as he walked in easing the door behind himself shut then followed after you to the kitchen. On top of the counter he set the bag and watched you open the trunk you had filled with the things from your kitchen. Cubbies rose slowly and on the counter you set the open topped boxes of food you had pulled from your pantry he helped to take back to your new pantry. “You could have waited on the tape till tomorrow.”

Lowly he rumbled back, “Didn’t feel right. One call and you were just alone. Well, not alone,” his eyes scanned over your face in setting the empty boxes back and joining you in grabbing the next set with cups he followed your lead in where to place them to your liking. “How are they taking it?”

“Well, the hummingbirds are napping, thoroughly exhausted by the whole ordeal,” making him chuckle to himself, “It’s such a big world to them. And the greenhouse is amazing.”

“Yes it is.” His eyes scanned over you again from the side of his gaze.

“Kuu is finding his favorite spots to hide, and Belly is taking a lap over the block.”

Thorin smirked, “No wonder your neighbors seemed to be buzzing. They are rare you know. Hardly ever seen out of captivity due to their status. Where did you find him?”

“Old neighbor bought his egg, wanted to eat him, I told them a lie and bought him. Still trying to perfect my Raven tongue. Bit rough, but I am not the worst student.”

“It is impressive, few other races can master the sounds.”

“Exactly. Part of why he’s patient. Plus Kuu had a talk with him when he was young, I had a hard week and started crying halfway through a lesson. It was bad, worse than bad, but he understands. I tried to get him some raven buddies but apparently I looked a bit shady in the shops or something, wouldn’t let me buy one.”

Thorin chuckled again, “You’re not shady. Few shops sell unless given an event one of their clan are holding. Ravens are meant to bond with their keepers, I am sure you know. To hear you have one,”

“Ya, no doubt I’ll pluck it and eat it.” Making him chuckle again in your move to the silverware trays you eased into their new drawers you left cracked to remember which they were in. “Maybe he can find one or two around here to chat with.”

Thorin chuckled saying, “Perhaps I could bring by my raven, Roac, he loves meeting new birds. Should have heard him the last time a pigeon landed on our balcony.” In a curious glance over you he asked, “You like it here? I mean, you bought it, but, was it what you hoped for?”

“Always liked the Hobbit style, I do have to admit the Dwarf touches too, especially in the greenhouse. Let me guess, something, modern for you.”

With a smirk he turned with you to your round dining/end table you set plates on and slid a pair of trunks over to for seats, “My brother picked the style. It was available. Plenty of rooms for the pair of us, bit cramped with our nephews there.”

“Gloin can’t help there?”

Thorin chuckled, “Trust me, he wants to, but none of us can agree on a place or find a day we’re all off for hunting. Plus the boys have terrible taste.”

Looking in your fridge you said, “Apple juice or cranberry juice?” his brow inched up, “Or I have a water bottle left? Guess I’ll have to shop.”

While he carried the bag of food over he answered, “Apple, please.” You brought him over a small 8 oz bottle of juice deepening his smirk as it nearly vanished inside his fist the same size of your bottle of cranberry juice you set down while you sat down on the trunk behind you. “These are adorable,” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

“I reuse them, get the bigger bottles and pour them in these so I can use the bigger ones for making soaps.”

“Do you need help with furniture?” he said setting out the final container of food noticing your fork being pointed at him.

“I’ve got it, I’ve known you a few days you’ve helped me with a review job, to move and brought me dinner, you do not get to redecorate too. I got it, gotta plan.”

“And how long will that take?”

You shrugged, “Who knows.” Making him roll his eyes next watching you serve yourself from the containers to fill your plate before he did the same.

“Well if you-,”

“Need help, I know, I will contact my local Mug Dealer.”

“I-,” you smirked at him and he rolled his eyes and looked to his plate again. “You must be pleased most of my family is calling me that now.”

“It’s adorable, plus it gives you a bit of mystique to add to your daily life in that shop of yours.”

“So you assume I need mystique in my life?”

“Everyone does,” you said filling your fork, “My main job’s mostly watching other people live their lives from the background. You have no idea how many stories whiz right by you, no doubt having a shop is like that too. People buzz in and out without ever really interacting with you as a person.”

Through your next bite he looked over your face and asked, “Gloin did spill the beans, you work at Findis, do you like it there?”

“It’s nice. I’ve got a nitpicking thing, I’m good at cleaning. Did get bumped up to the top floors so I also do errands and such, within reason of course. But it’s one of the best jobs I’ve had. Now I’m just a stop away from it. How bout you, you like the shop?”

“We opened the shop, it’s our baby. I love the shop. Not the baby sitting hassles from time to time, I have nothing against mothers but the ones who plan poorly taking advantage of those who try to help them, I have little compassion for.”

“I’m not-,”

He shook his head and gave his hand a slight wave in front of his chest after taking a bite of his food, “You are not taking advantage. And if you were I wouldn’t blame you.”

“My past doesn’t forgive being cruel. It demands the opposite.”

“I get that.”

“But thank you for the permission to take advantage of you.” Coughing through swallowing his mouthful he glanced up at you seeing your puffy cheeked grin, a sparing sip of his drink later and you got back to eating talking about possible ideas you could use for filling your empty rooms and companies to help.

Chatting playfully back and forth eventually in your shared history of wishing for castles with hidden hideaways and treasures came to a halt as he said, “I have books on how to build secret doors in bookshelves.”

You lowered your drink and pointed at him making his brows inch up, “I have a secret study!”

Chuckling lowly he asked, “What?”

Up you popped taking hold of his wrist pulling him to his feet excitedly spreading his grin in his trot behind you passing through your bedroom into the hidden study through a hidden door earning another chuckle from him. When you let him go he looked around and stopped to see you pull the door open in the atrium revealing the second hidden door there. “It’s so cool!”

He chuckled again and stepped closer to you only to pause at the alarm sounding on his phone he pulled out. “Oh, wow it’s getting late. Let me help you clean up.” While you turned his hand clenched a moment in realizing just how close to you he had been standing.

Quietly through lingering chuckles you both cleaned up and into the trash can you brought out of another trunk the containers were put while he rinsed the dishes and set them to dry on the rack in the washer. Closing that had him turn to see you flashing him a rapid grin and shift to guide him to the door, through the forest green door you eyed his sporty black car he walked to saying, “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” Waves were traded and you closed the door in his lowering into the car. Exhaling slowly you leaned against the door and turned your head to flip the lock feeling the locks inside the door shifting to latch into the frame at several points. “Why does he have to be so amazing?” you sighed out in a push off the door to head to your bedroom to try and get some sleep.

Another kick to your bed case had it expanding to full Troll size in the center of the room with a cushioned head and footboard now fully expanded. Onto the bed you crawled and plopped down hugging your pillow in the softly rising light of the crystal lanterns on the walls that would give off a soft glow through the house so it was never fully dark inside.

A sudden pop up had you also ensuring the garage and back door were locked as well before coming back again to lay across your pillow again. To the sound of Kuu singing a song you fell asleep smiling to yourself in planning the letter you would write to your mother, sisters and Cirdan. Breakfast would come soon enough and after a shower you could start a draft of it all to send off while you ate, surely the first of dozens until you could get the wording right and add pictures of your new home.

Pt 6

A rough sketch of the Dwobbit Home I made up. :)

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shesakillerkween

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr

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domain-of-friendship-blog · 6 years

Text

08: Open Question

Applejack awoke to a splitting headache and a chilly breeze blowing by.

Had she opened the window last night? Why would she do that if it was going to be this cold? Why did her head hurt this much? Why did her pillow feel like wood? The more questions popped into her head, the more it hurt.

With a groan, she sat up as gingerly as she could and opened her eyes slightly, raising a hand to her aching head. She appeared to be outside, which answered at least one question... and another was soon resolved when glancing behind her revealed she'd been sitting against a tree.

Or at least, the remains of one.

The forest around her carpeted the slope of a mountain range that stretched all the way to the horizon and featured a great variety of trees, leafy and evergreen alike. It petered out as it stretched into the valley below, making room for smaller shrubs and tall grasses at the very bottom.

Her pillow tree looked like a truck plowed into it; she had actually been resting against a rough-looking stump. Her gaze traveled its way up the mountainside, causing her to gasp: no less than a dozen other trees had toppled over in a similar fashion, a trail of destruction easily a hundred feet long.

As she climbed to her feet, Applejack let out a low whistle. "Well, I'll be."

The cool breeze blew through again, causing her to shiver and rub her arms for warmth. It also picked up an object she hadn't noticed was missing until it bumped into her leg.

She bent over and picked up the old cowboy hat. Inspecting it for damage, she frowned as she spotted several scuffs and tattered edges that hadn't been there the last time she looked. Was this the result of whatever knocked over all those trees, too? She had no particular reason to assume so, but the thought lingered in her mind all the same as she plopped the hat on her head.

kashoo!

Applejack jumped slightly at the sudden noise, looking this way and that for its source. Was there someone hiding nearby, or did one of those trees just... sneeze?

"Hello?" she called out. "Someone there?"

"Don't you move!"

A figure emerged from behind a large tree nearby. Slightly taller than Applejack, she had dirty blonde hair braided into pigtails and wore a red vest over a pink t-shirt, pink jeans, and hiking boots. A bit more striking were her eyes, completely white with no irises or pupils, and her long pointy ears. Strangely, she didn't look any better dressed for the cool weather than Applejack was, but that wasn't what concerned her the most.

That spot was reserved for the revolver in the girl's hands, pointed squarely at Applejack's chest.

"Whoa nelly!" Applejack staggered back a step and raised her hands. "N-Now why don't we just calm down a little, and - "

"What are you?" the girl demanded.

Applejack blinked. "Beg pardon?"

"You're bloody orange, and you've got animal ears on," said the girl. "And what's all this? Look what you did to the trees! How'd you manage that one then?"

A portion of Applejack's fear gave way to confusion. "Wait a sec. That sounds like..." Sure enough, a quick check over her shoulder confirmed that her hair was now long and flowing, easily reaching all the way to her knees. "But that ain't right... When did I - WHOA!"

Applejack yelped in alarm as the girl fired a warning shot at her feet.

"Don't ignore me!" The girl spun the revolver on her finger for a second before pointing it at Applejack again. "How'd you make that big glowing light and knock over all these trees? What kind of magic is that? What're you gonna use it for?"

Once her heart had begun beating again, Applejack glanced very carefully at the destruction around her. Her magically enhanced strength was really something, sure, but could she really have done all this? If so, why couldn't she remember any of it?

"Look... I'm mighty sorry about the trees," she said finally, "but I promise I don't mean any harm. If you'll put that there gun away, I'll give you the honest truth about everything I know."

"That seems a more than reasonable trade if you ask me."

A second figure emerged from the trees. This one was visibly armed as well, sporting a rifle on a strap over his shoulder. He too wore a t-shirt and jeans, gray and blue respectively, and a leather jacket. His hair was the exact same color as the girl's, and he featured the same pointed ears and blank eyes.

...Applejack seriously wanted to ask about that last part, but the timing felt slightly behind ideal.

"About time you caught up," the girl barked. "Help me with this, will you?"

The young man stepped forward, pausing for a moment as he surveyed the situation. After a few seconds, he scowled as he reached for the girl's gun and lowered it, earning him an irritated huff from her and a sigh of relief from Applejack.

"Hey!" the girl protested.

"Put that away," he warned. "A gun is not an intimidation tool. You know better."

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but changed her mind and closed it a second later. Glaring, she returned her gun to a holster at her hip and crossed her arms as the man finally turned to Applejack.

"My name is Brent," he explained, "and this is my sister, Rebecca. You'll have to pardon her belligerence; we're all a bit on edge these days."

Relieved that the situation had defused a bit, Applejack took off her hat for a moment and wiped a few weather-defying beads of sweat from her brow. "No harm, no foul, I guess. Name's Applejack."

"Applejack?" Brent echoed, raising a hand to his mouth. "With a name like that, I might have suspected you of otherworldly origins even without the rest of your unusual features."

Otherworldly...

The word lingered in Applejack's head. This really was another world, wasn't it? Her memory had gotten pretty fuzzy by the time she woke up, but now she found she could clearly recall everything that had happened with the mirror portal... at least, up until just after she'd jumped into it intending to rescue Rarity and Pinkie Pie. Everything between then and now was a complete blank - just how long had she been out, anyway?

She hoped that her impulsive rescue attempt hadn't been as foolish a decision as it suddenly felt.

"Look, I ain't here to cause any trouble," she said finally. "I'm just looking for my friends after we all fell into the portal."

"Hmph!" Rebecca huffed again. "See? I told you she came through the portal!"

Though he betrayed no other emotion, Brent's eyes narrowed. "I never claimed to doubt you."

"You thought it though."

"You can't claim that."

"Can too!"

"You - "

rrrrip

The two ceased their bickering and stared slack-jawed at Applejack, the splintered remains of a tree stump in her hands.

"Figured that might get your attention." She casually tossed it away as she spoke. "Now, that ain't getting us anywhere. 'Sides, I owe you two a story, don't I?"

Brent nodded. "Likewise. I should think a bit of hospitality is in order, but we ought to be cautious; I can't imagine the rest of the town will react to your presence much better than this one did."

Rebecca shot him a look. He didn't seem to notice.

Applejack tilted her head. "What's got you folks all spooked, anyhow?"

"Come with me. I'll explain on the way." He turned to Rebecca. "You should get back to your post."

"Whatever. Not my problem then." With a dismissive wave of her hand, Rebecca parted ways with them as Applejack followed Brent through the trees.

*******

At the foot of the mountains, the trees gave way to a grassy clearing that seemed to stretch all the way to the horizon. The wooden ramparts of a small town rose over the grass less than half a mile away, two figures making their way toward it as they spoke.

"So what you're saying is," Applejack began, "You folks are right on the border with a not-so-friendly neighboring country and y'all are worried they might march up and take over at any time, so your sis gets paid to sit in a tower up there and keep an eye out?"

"A succinct - if somewhat contrived - summary, yes," said Brent.

Applejack scratched her head. "Well, that explains why she was a mite jumpy before. Reckon it means Dash and the others ain't been by, either."

Brent nodded. "Most likely. She would've spotted them as she did you."

"So what's your deal then?" Applejack quirked an eyebrow. "How come you ain't all suspicious of me and my magic?"

Brent adjusted his rifle strap as he walked. "I happen to believe in the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps a bit foolish of me, I'll admit, but you seem sincere enough that it would genuinely trouble me not to lend you a hand."

"Well, that's mighty kind of you."

As the two fell silent, Applejack found herself pondering the strange man walking beside her. He apparently trusted her, so she saw no particular reason not to return the favor... but a hint of doubt hovered in the back of her mind all the same. In spite of appearances, this world was very unlike her own; she would need to be careful about how far she extended that trust until she could reunite with her friends.

That is, provided she could do so in the first place... but the idea that she might be alone here after all was not one she wanted to spend too much time entertaining.

"Hold."

As the pair was about to round the corner of the outer walls of the town, Brent extended his arm, prompting Applejack to stop in her tracks.

"You'll want to look as inconspicuous as possible," he warned. "Tuck your ears into your hat and follow my lead."

Somewhat deformed as it was, Applejack found that her hat now hid her pony ears with little effort. Satisfied, Brent nodded and led her to the front gate, its massive doors slightly ajar to allow them inside.

It looked as though someone had taken an old wild west town and unceremoniously dropped it here in the grass; short wooden buildings stretched down either side of a central dirt road. Aside from a smattering of foot traffic, it was populated by both old timey-looking trucks and horse-pulled wagons carting things back and forth, their cargo consisting mostly of wood in varying states of processing.

"Altair isn't much, all things considered," said Brent, "but it's home. It also happens to be the biggest source of lumber in all of Victoria."

Applejack grinned. "I think it's mighty swell."

"Oi, Voral!"

A woman waved at the pair from nearby, bent halfway over a truck with the hood open. Her hair was tied in a bun and her shirt was splattered with grease.

"Good morning, Ayers," said Brent as he and Applejack approached. "Truck still giving you trouble then?"

The woman wiped her forehead with her arm. "There's something stuck in one of the pipes somewhere, and I'm liable to take the whole thing apart before I find it."

Applejack glanced under the hood. Was that supposed to be an engine? She almost knew more about Big Mac's truck than he did, and she didn't recognize any of the components inside this thing.

Ayers quirked an eyebrow at Applejack. "Say, who's that?"

"Oh, pardon me. This is, er..." Brent hesitated, staring at Applejack for a moment. "...Gala Macintosh."

In spite of herself, Applejack stifled a snicker.

"She sent us a letter about a month ago," he continued. "It turns out she's related somewhere on our mother's side, but we're not sure on the details quite yet."

"How come she's orange?"

"Rare magical skin condition," Brent suggested, hardly missing a beat. "It's entirely benign, not contagious, and only affects the pigment."

Ayers stared at Applejack for several moments, her eyes narrowing. "Is that so?"

Applejack gulped audibly. An image of Rebecca's gun pointed at her torso flashed through her head - if she couldn't convince these people that she was as 'normal' as could be, she was liable to wind up in a whole heap of trouble.

"O-Of course it is!" She flashed as nonchalant a smile as she could manage. "I, uh, just don't much like talking about it is all. Real sensitive, you know? Gets me stared at a mite more than I'd like," she explained perhaps a little too quickly.

Sure enough, though there wasn't much going on in the immediate vicinity, no less than half a dozen sets of eyes lingered on her as she spoke.

Ayers seemed to ponder this for some time, silently scrutinizing Applejack as though doing so might confirm the veracity of her claim.

"Well now, that's just lovely!"

Applejack had to resist a sigh of relief.

"Looks like you two have some family left after all." Ayers grinned at Brent before turning back to Applejack. "Are there any more of you back home, Gala? Oh, and do you mind if I call you that?"

"Not at all!" Applejack grinned back. "There's my big brother, baby sister, and good old Granny back on the farm."

"Lovely indeed." Ayers nodded. "Well, I'm sure you two have plenty of catching up to do, so I won't keep you. Have a good one!" She turned back to her work as the two wandered off.

Brent exhaled. "Well, Gala, I believe we may have just dodged a bullet."

Applejack frowned. "I don't like lying to folks like that, but I guess I don't see we've got much choice."

"Not likely." Brent shook his head. "In any case, the house is down this way. We have a guest room you can use for the time being."

"Huh?" Applejack blinked. "Wait, you mean you're gonna put me up then?"

"That was my implication, yes." Brent quirked an eyebrow. "Why? Was I wrong in assuming you would need a place to stay?"

"Uh, well... no," Applejack admitted. "I just didn't realize that's what you meant by 'hospitality,' is all. I don't wanna impose or nothing."

Brent held up a hand. "It's no trouble, I promise. Plus, Ayers works at the lumber mill; now that you've met her, she can put in a good word for you over there to help you find work. If you mean to reunite with your friends, you won't get far without money."

Applejack nodded. "Might need an excuse for why I need it, but that sounds mighty fine to me. Means I can offer you something back, too," she added.

Brent nodded in turn. Though she hadn't seen him smile once since they'd met, she could still tell that he was pleased with the arrangement.

Even if it wasn't quite what she was used to from the farm, the thought of having decent work ahead of her was a comforting one. She didn't relish the idea of keeping secrets from these folks though, for more reasons than the obvious; if the rest of the town proved to be as unhappy to see her as Rebecca had been, someone was liable to get seriously hurt.

That aside, she didn't want to spend any more time in Altair than was absolutely necessary. It wasn't a bad little town, by and large... but what mattered most was that none of the others were here. Were she just a bit more impulsive - perhaps like a certain colorful friend of hers - she might try to set out immediately, but taking care of herself had to come first.

She just hoped they had the luxury of waiting for her.

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