"You need to know something," said Fili, taking her face in his large warm hands. "You will always have me. Even if the Valar take you away tomorrow, I will always be your brother. I want you. I'm going to fight Thorin for you, but even if I lose, you are always my sister. I would sooner stop being a dwarf than stop being your brother."

Can exploring caves land you in a hobbit's pantry? It happened to Sara Miller. Taken from the 21st century, she must navigate through middle-earth to find a way back home. But to do so she will have to understand why the Valar have sent her in the first place, something even Gandalf does not know. All Sara wants to do is return home so she can resume the search for her family but now she is stuck going on this insane quest.

Why are wizards so capricious? Thorin has first-hand experience with one, namely Gandalf. Thorin is determined to reclaim his home in Erebor for his people and was even prepared to accept a hobbit on the quest. But now Gandalf insists that if he wants his help he must allow a woman from another world into his company as well. But just because the wizard brings her along doesn't mean Thorin has to play nice. Who is this woman anyhow and why is the Valar's mark on her hand?

Chapter 1: The door

Sara's socks squelched noisily inside her hiking boots as she plodded through the cave. She squinted at the high dark ceiling and cursed under her breath as water dripped from one of the hanging stalactites and into her eye. Grumbling, she wiped the moisture from her cheek and kicked out at a rock sending it skittering over the stone floor, the sound reverberating back to her in waves as it bounced into the cathedral room ahead.

She had been an idiot to leave the fishing line in her car. Stupid. Stupid. She could have followed the string back to the entrance and been out of this cave hours ago when it became plain she had no clue which direction to go. But now she was stuck blundering around in the dark.

She should have just canceled the whole trip when Nathen had begged off last-minute. He was the one who had explored this cave before, not her. But no, his fiance had dragged him off to help with more wedding plans. Only two more weeks till D-day.

Her step slowed and she sighed. That had been the whole point of this trip, one last hurrah with Nathen before the wedding. She didn't blame him, not really, just Stephanie and her overly complicated wedding plans. Not that she had any particular problem with Stephanie either; it was inevitable that Nathen would eventually find someone to share his life with, and Stephanie was nice enough. Heaven, Earth, and all of Facebook knew Nathen was head over heels for his soon-to-be bride, but Sara couldn't help but be a little bit jealous. Growing up Nathen had been the closest thing to having a sibling, to having family and now... well nothing would be the same.

Still, the trip had been planned, supplies bought, and it was the last chance for a break before finals. It would have been a shame to waste it all just because Nathen could not go. Besides, Sara desperately needed a break from the mind-numbing search through old police, hospital, and orphanage records. Stubbornly she had gone alone but now she was rethinking her faulty logic.

She spun in a circle, the beam of her headlamp sliding over the walls of the cave. She flicked her hair out of her eyes and pulled an elastic from her pocket, tying it back. Why she had let Melody talk her into dying it this ridiculous color of aquamarine she didn't know. It clashed horribly with her green eyes. At least it was only temporary, and Melody's pink hair looked just as bad. But that was part of college right? Stupid stuff that you regretted later. Stupid choices, choices like taking this trip on her own.

At least she had found her way back to this familiar cavern again. Why did there have to be so many offshoots? She bent and staked a small pile of stones in the middle of the tunnel she had just left, marking it as explored. It was the fourth one she had tried; the fourth out of seven possibilities, and she was beginning to feel like she was living out a perverse Minecraft scenario.

The four online reviews for this cave had said that it was simple to get to the crystal cavern. Keep going straight, they had said. Don't take any offshoots they had said. The path was clearly marked by graffiti arrows they had said. Sara snorted. So much for the online reviews. The so-called reviews had also said that the cavern was about one and a half hours into the cave, and she had been inside for six. She definitely should have been there, but now she was so turned around that she wasn't even sure this was the same cave anymore. Somewhere along the way, the spray-painted arrows on the walls had disappeared. Where was Nathen when she needed him? Probably dutifully helping to pick out last-minute flower arrangements.

Her stomach grumbled loudly, gnawing away at her insides and grudgingly Sara let her overnight camping pack slip to the ground. Rummaging through the smaller pockets she found a bruised apple and a squashed granola bar. Sinking to the ground she leaned back against her pack, groaning as she realized that the seat of her pants had found yet another puddle. Jagged stalactites hung from the ceiling and dripped lazily onto the rough floor with a quiet splish... splish... splish...

Munching, Sara fished her phone out of her pocket and thumbed on her screen. The light cast a blue glow over the bizarre birthmark on the back of her right hand. It's lines were sharp and crisp in the shape of a blacksmith's hammer. Twinning up and around the hammer's handle was an ivy that bore both a single fruit and flower. She couldn't really blame those who asked if it was a tattoo. She had even had it checked out by a doctor who had assured her that it was in fact her own skin's pigmentation.

She tucked her phone back into her pocket. 3:47 pm and definitely no service, not that she had honestly thought there would be. Thank goodness Melody and Nathen knew the cave she had planned to explore. If she didn't show up back at the dorms by tomorrow night they would send a search party out after her. It would be embarrassing to have to be found, but at least she was well prepared and could afford to wait. She tended to overpack, even for a simple overnight trip like this. She had packed extra food and water... and there was that unopened bag of Hershey Kisses at the bottom of her pack.

Her hand drifted to the heavy oval pendant around her neck. She lifted it higher, the embossed letter S glinting gold in the lamplight. At least her grandmother could no longer worry about her. Six months. Six months since Clarisse Miller had died at age eighty-seven, her kidneys failing her. Sometimes that day felt like years ago, others, only yesterday.

Sara had been found on Clarisse Miller's doorstep as a baby. After a police search, some paperwork, and a visit to court Clarisse was granted custody of the infant, adopting her and naming her Sara for the S on the necklace found around her neck. Sara had been raised as a grandchild to the elder woman ever since she could remember and her early years had been blissfully happy.

But in the second grade, Jimmy Porter brought the world crashing down around Sara's ears. Clarisse had always been open with Sara about how they came to be family, and at an early age that had been satisfactory, after all, a few of the other kids lived with their grandparents too. Most children said little if anything about it and life went on as normal.

But then Sara accidentally dropped the new Game Boy Jimmy had gotten for his birthday into a puddle, breaking it. Jimmy had been furious, crying as he yelled that he hated her, that she was just a stupid orphan, that her parents must have hated her because they abandoned her on a doorstep. He was cut short by Nathen tackling him to the ground and ramming his fist into his teeth. Later that day in the principal's office after calming down Jimmy had apologized and Sara's grandmother had promised to replace the game system... but life was never quite the same again.

Why had her parents left her? Doubts grew as questions bubbled angrily to the surface and Sara came to understand what it truly meant that she had been left on the doorstep. She peppered her grandmother with questions but there was little Clarisse could tell her. She had been left on the porch in a woven basket, no note, no papers. Even the clothes she had been wearing bore no tags, no trace at all to follow.

The only thing that had been with her was the gold pendant on a chain around her neck, which Clarisse had taken until Sara was older. Sara had asked for the necklace but when Clarisse had gone to retrieve it, they discovered it had been lost. They searched for days, weeks even, but to no avail. But though the necklace was gone Sara still could not keep her mind from wandering.

Who were her parents? Why had she been left? Sometimes she would concoct elaborate reasons and excuses why her parents could not, or would not take care of her, why they had abandoned her. Each was more fantastic than the last. But there was a niggling fear in the back of her mind. A fear that the truth was quite simple and Jimmy Porter had been right.

As Sara grew the mystery of her family burned quietly in her despite her efforts to suffocate her growing doubts. It wasn't until just before her grandmother's death that Clarisse finally found the necklace in some forgotten corner of the basement. She called Sara, promising to mail it to her at college, but later that day her grandmother had collapsed at the post office, the small package still clutched in her hands.

By nightfall, she was in the ICU.

Nathen drove Sara up from college, narrowly avoiding several speeding tickets. They arrived a paltry few minutes before her grandmother slipped quietly away. Six months.

Five months ago Sara had renewed the search for her family, simultaneously hoping to and dreading finding the answers she so desperately sought. But there were only so many records you could look through before you went balmy, and Google didn't help much when you had nothing to go on.

Sara ran a hand over her face, slipping the pendant back down her shirt. She glanced around the cave not ready to throw in the towel just yet. Three more passageways to try. If nothing looked familiar after that she would return and wait here. Popping the apple core into her mouth she clambered to her feet and heaved her pack onto her shoulders.

One hour and two tunnels later still showed no signs of leading her out of the cave. She was no geologist but even the rock that surrounded her seemed to be different. This was the last passageway. She peered hopefully inside. Nothing looked familiar. But then a noise caught her attention. She froze, listening. There it was again coming from the tunnel ahead.

Was it another spelunker? It was a bit odd that she hadn't seen anyone else in the cave, but maybe it was because it was not well known. And she had got here early. She had camped last night not far from the cave entrance and gotten up early so she could, in theory, get to the caverns and then back to her car and then home to her apartment before dark. She hated driving in the dark. But maybe that had more to do with the fact that her grandmother had been a total menace on the road after dark than anything else. But hey what did you expect from an 87-year-old lady. Sara smiled faintly, her fingers softly brushing over the chain around her neck.

There was that clattering again. Oddly enough it sounded like pots and pans. She took a few steps into the last tunnel. Was that a voice? Hoping against hope that it was a person and not some wild animal Sara proceeded cautiously down the passage. That had to be a voice. Her pace increased but when she rounded the next bend she came to a dead stop.

There was a door ... in the tunnel.

What on Earth was a door doing in the middle of a tunnel in a cave? And what a peculiar door it was. Where most doors were tall and rectangular this one was short and perfectly round, just a tad bit shorter than she was, but at 5'1'' that wasn't saying much. A shiny brass knob was set dead center in the red-painted wood.

Was she going crazy? There was a random door in the tunnel. Gingerly she touched the wood. Yes, the door was solid, not some bizarre trick of the light or her mind. She rested her hand on the brass doorknob and listened. There was that voice she had heard before. It was a male voice and unmistakably pots and pans. What was going on?

For a moment she was tempted to turn around and forget the whole thing, but this was the last tunnel she had to try. If she didn't find an answer here it was back to the main cave to wait to be rescued. But this was crazy. Well, whatever was going on, crazy door or not, maybe this person on the other side could tell her how to get out of the cave. Drawing in a steady breath she knocked sharply on the door.

"Hello? Is someone there? I'm lost." All noise from inside immediately ceased. She waited. Nothing. Waited more. Still nothing.

"Hello?" No answer.

She turned the knob slowly. It wasn't locked. Giving the door a gentle push it swung forward to reveal what appeared to be a well-stocked pantry. Too weird. There was no sign of another person inside, just shelf upon shelf of food to the back of the small room where several large kegs stood. She took a few tentative steps forward, examining the contents of the shelves. Maybe this was some doomsday prepper.

She was about ten paces inside when the door slammed shut behind her making her heart stutter and skip wildly. There was someone in the room with her. She turned slowly and shined her headlamp back towards the round portal and then around the room. It was empty save her and the food. But then how had the door...? Perhaps it was hung a bit crooked and always swung shut. Swung shut so loudly? She returned to the door and was about to grab the handle when she heard the voice louder than ever before on the other side.

"Bless me, but I'm silly hearing voices that aren't there. That's what comes from putting one's afternoon tea off." The clatter of pans resumed. "Some nice fried eggs and tomatoes on toast would be rather nice I would say." There was someone there!

"Hello?"

The sound on the other side of the door stopped again. This was stupid. Ridiculous. She had just come from the cave and there had been no one there. But why had there been a door in the cave at all? Who knew, but at this point, Sara's curiosity had run out, being swallowed up in her delayed sense of self-preservation. She would go back through the door and wait in the main cavern and forget that she had ever seen such a strange round little door. With this thought firmly in place, she took a deep breath once again and opened the door; but it was not the cave that greeted her when the door swung open. It was a frying pan.

Hello, new or old reader! Welcome and welcome back to my story! Please enjoy and feel free to leave comments for me. I am particularly after any constructive criticism you have for me. (skip the basic spelling and grammar unless you see a glaring pattern.) But if you find yourself skimming, something is redundant, or you are confused please let me know once you have finished the chapter so I can go back and address it. Thank you so much for taking your time to give my story a chance! Enjoy!