Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Get up! Lets go! Lets go, lets go!” A piercing whistle accompanied the loud yelling and I snapped awake. My eyes popped open and I immediately snapped them shut again as the room was suddenly flooded with bright light.

“What the fu…?” My bunk mate, Alicia Andrews muttered.

“I think we’re dead,” I answered, my head ringing. I coughed, my throat dry, and dry heaved a little. We both sat up from our bunks and looked towards the door of our room where one of our company CO’s was currently pacing back and forth, a megaphone in her hand.

“Alright, boys and girls. Time for a ruck march. Lets go! Get your shit and meet out at formation. We leave in two hours!” Captain Simons yelled. I groaned and flopped my head back down on my pillow.

“That bastard. She encouraged us all to go out last night and party. She encouraged us to ‘enjoy’ ourselves, because starting Monday we’d be back to training. She planned this whole thing,” Andrews muttered darkly, rolling out of her bed, still in her civvies from last night. I grunted.

“Of course she did. She’s an asshole.” My answer was mumbled, because somehow my head had snuck itself back under my pillow. “What time is it?”

“0430,”

“Fuuuccckk. We got back here at, what? 2?” I grumbled.

“Well, we would have gotten back sooner if you hadn’t decided it would be a great idea to try and have a drinking competition with Sgt Piers.”

“She told me I was a light weight!” I snapped, peaking my head out from under the pillow.

“You are,” She shot back.

“Ah, hell with you.” I answered. She laughed then, and I winced. My head really was pounding now, and I could feel bile in the back of my throat.

“Why did you let me drink so much?”

“Oh please. You did it all on your own.” She tossed a pair of pants at me. “Come on. Lets’ get dressed and get our shit together. Aren’t you glad I got you to pack your gear before we left for the movies?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I rolled out of bed and glanced down, realizing I fell asleep with my jeans half down my legs, my bra unsnapped but still on, and my tank top nowhere to be seen. I gave a sheepish grin to Andrews and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to grab a shower. I suggest you take a quick one, too. Who knows when we’ll get back.”

“’kay,” I answered unenthusiastically. I stood up and tugged my jeans back up while I gathered my personal hygiene bag. I owed Andrews. While most of my company, us girls, and the guys in the next barracks over, would be scrambling to pack their gear in their rucksack, Andrews, myself, and a few others had done just that the day before. Andrews had insisted that we do it, claiming that she had a feeling we’d come to appreciate it. None of us had really wanted to, but when she got it in her head to do something, she could be very… persuasive.

After a few minutes, Andrews returned and I headed off to take a shower. Within ten minutes, I was out and drying off. The army had taught us to do many things quickly. Shower. Eat. Sleep. Which was ironic, because the amount of time we spent standing around and waiting was ridiculous.
I hastily pulled on clean undergarments, light S.I. thermals, and my ACU’s. Following that was a pair of my winter-weight army boots. It was cold up here in the mountains and I was glad that I had had the foresight to break my boots in as soon as I learned the date of our training up here.

“Hey, Conner, Andrews, you two almost ready to go?” I threw a look over my shoulder and grinned despite myself. Sgt Piers was looking a little worse for the wear, too. It made me feel a little better. She flipped me off when she noticed my grin.

“Yeah. I just gotta grab my gear. What about you, Conner?” Andrews asked. I nodded and regretted that motion the second I did it.

“Just gotta throw my hair up in a bun and grab my gear, too.” I answered.

“Don’t say throw up, please,” Piers muttered. I gave a dry laugh and wandered over to the mirror that was sitting in my locker.

A pair of blue eyes looked back at me and I grimaced at how blood shot my eyes were and at the bags that currently occupied the space below them. I grumbled to myself, muttering something about ‘never drinking again,’ before I started to twist and pull my long dark brown hair into a bun. With a few well placed clips and ties, my hair was smoothed tight and slicked back along my skull, a bun secured at the base. I adjusted my dog tags so they sat between my breasts, tucked in my bra so they would stay warm against my skin. I glanced myself over in the mirror and made a few adjustments here and there to my uniform; tightening the Velcro around my wrists, tucking my shirt into my pants, straightening the pocket flaps on my sleeves. I turned around to find that Piers had already left and that Andrews had her things gathered. Her light blonde hair was cut short, the tips curled under her chin. Green eyes looked me over and she came over and stuck her arm around her shoulder.

“Come on, Shorty,” She tugged me along with her and I scowled at her as we left our small room and made our way down the hall.. Andrews was 5’8”, where I sat closer to 5’1” or 5’2” at best. I had been made of for being short all my life, so by now it was just another in a long string of jokes that were my life.

The next few hours passed slowly. Our 200 people company had gathered in front of our respective barracks before boarding the busses that were to take us to the outskirts of a small town we were to start our march from. According to our head co, Major Stiles, we were going to break into small squads and make our way though a small portion of the 3200 square foot wilderness we were in. We had to hit certain markers, touching up on our navigating skills using compasses and maps.

At roughly 0900, we arrived at our starting point. We stood in a small clearing that lead into the dark woods before us, the crisp air causing our breaths to mist before us. We were surrounded by cliffs and hills, and the sky above was beginning to darken, despite the early hour. We were served a hot breakfast (which I could not stomach even looking at, let alone eating) and given plenty of water to drink.

We picked up our M16’s, complete with bayonets, ammo, packs of food to travel with, and filled all three of our canteens. Their was much rustling of cloth as we tugged on our tactical vests (read; bullet proof vests), each with removable ceramic plates in it, our head gear (helmets) and threw our ruck sacks over our shoulders. We were split into our squads and gathered for our final briefing.

“It should take you roughly three days to get to our base camp. You will find stations to refill your canteens, but you should ration your food carefully; it should last you four days. Five if you stretch it. The first five squads to get there will get hot showers, hot meals, and the following day off. The next five, hot showers, and a hot meal. The rest of you get whats left of the water, and MRE’s for chow. Company, attention!”

We all snapped our legs together, one arm coming to sit at ours sides, hand cupped and fingers curled, the other arm holding our rifles to our sides.

"Dismissed!”

There was much milling around as everyone checked over their gear, making their last minute changes and adjustments. Then slowly, but surely, squads began to disappear into the trees.

I glanced around at my squad. Sergeant first class Alicia Andrews, one of my best friends, was our squad leader. Then came myself, Staff Sergeant Talya Marie Conner. Next came Staff Sergeant Michelle Brown, a quite girl who was much tougher than she looked. Brown eyes peered out over her glasses as she looked over the map she had in her hand, her opposite hand coming up to impatiently brush away a strand of dirty blonde hair. She would be our navigator, since she could read a map faster than any of us. The last two in our squad were relatively new to our company.

Private First Class(PFC) Dawn Downy had been with our company about three months, whereas PFC Amy Wallace had only been with us for about three weeks. PFC Downy had bright green eyes and always in a good mood and tried to be friends with everyone. Mousy brown hair stuck up here and there, and I grinned slightly to myself, amused to find that she had still not perfected getting her hair up and off of her shoulders, a requirement of our uniform.

PFC Wallace, however, had her deeply red (and dyed, I suspected) hair pulled up and slicked back with gel and tucked under her helmet with perfection. Hazel eyes scrutinized the rest of us with a slight scowl. Out of all of us, she was the one I was curious most about. She was fanatically groomed and hated it when even a nail was out of place. She hated the rest of us, and hated the army more. I could never understand why she joined in the first place.

“Alright, lets get this show on the road. Everyone have their rations? Their water? Good. Lets move our asses. If any of the boy’s squads reach base camp before any of us girls, we’ll never live it down,” Andrews adjusted the straps of her ruck and turned towards the woods.

“Onward, fearless leader,” I said, waving the others on.

I watched the others fall inline, frowning when I saw how slim Wallace’s pack looked. I shook my head and, taking one last look around us, headed into the woods behind my squad.

After an hour or two, it grew more and more quiet as our company splintered out. Everyone had slightly different coordinates and points we had to hit so we could not cheat and just follow each other to the different points.

We were walking at a relatively decent pace and we had all stayed quiet up until now. I walked with my head down, starring at the ground in front of me as to not trip. The longer I walked, the more disorientated I began to feel, and I seriously regretted drinking so damn much the night before. It really was not like me at all. I was usual the DD. But life had been dragging lately. It was painfully stale and repetitive. When we had been encouraged to go out for the night, I seized the chance and dragged a few of my battles’ along with me, first to dinner, then to see the Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies, and finally to the bar. We had hit the bar at about 9pm. Much after ten, I could not remember.

I heard a boot crunch particularly close and I lifted my eyes to see a concerned Andrews.

“You alright, Tal?” She asked quietly, using the nickname reserved for my friends. “You are lookin’ a little on the pale side.”

“Fine, fine. Just hungover.” I answered back, giving her a tight smile.

“Are you sure? I know you drank a lot, but you are really pale. And shaky.”

“Im fine, Ally-cat.” I said, a little forced. “Just tell me I didn’t do anything terribly embarrassing.”

“Other then ending up crying because of Thorin Oakenshields death, and how it he deserved a happier ending…”

“I did not.” I groaned, imagining a very drunk me sobbing with my head on the bar, bemoaning the fate of a fictional character.

“You did. Thankfully for you, it was once we had already gotten into a cab and headed home. Other than the cabby finding it hilarious, you were safe. Otherwise, you totally would have made an ass of yourself. Or more of one, anyways. You had already spilled your drink over Corporal Emery’s shoes- not that the bitch didn’t deserve it. The way she was hitting on Scott…”

“Scott, now is it? What happened to Sergeant Mitchel?” I jumped at the chance to tease her over her not-so-secret crush. She blushed scarlet. Success. I was glad the conversation was off of me now, and we all began to talk and joke around. Even Wallace smiled a few times.

At one point, we all pulled out our stashes of crackers and peanut butter to munch on as we walked. My stomach even behaved.

“Alright, Brown, pull out that map of yours.” Andrews said, after taking a swig of her canteen.

“Well, here is roughly where we started from, and just about where we are now. We can choose to go a few different directions.” Brown started, having pulled out the map from her back pocket. She began to point at faintly traced pencil marks.

“All three of these lead to roughly the same place. This path here will be the easiest, but also the longest. We will be going the long way around this ravine here,” She pointed,” and up this hill here. The second path isn’t two bad, but we’ll have to cross the river twice since there is no bridge. Our third option is here,” She followed her finger up a short but winding path. “We’ll be following a ravine, and we’ll be doing a lot of climbing, but there is a bridge here, which if we reach, will bring us up to this point here. We’ll only be about a mile short of our first mark.”

“What do you guys think?” Andrews asked.

“We should take the easiest path. This isn’t something we trained for and we shouldn’t risk getting hurt.” Brown answered. “Plus, I don’t know how long the rain will hold, and I don’t want to risk a flash flood in that ravine.”

“I agree with Brown. I don’t know if I am up to all that hiking around.” Downy answered.

“The faster we get out of here, the better. I want nothing more than to get a hot shower and a day off, even if it’s a pain in the ass getting there.” Wallace said.

“You know I’m with you, Sergeant,” I smiled wryly at Andrews. We’d been best friends ever since basic training, four years ago. We’d helped each other through everything, and she had become the sister I had never had, as cliché as that was.

“Thanks, Conner. Im beginning to think that’s just your way of getting out of having to think on your own,” She snapped back, smirking.

“Of course it is,”

Andrews sighed and looked down at the map.

“I checked out the forecast this morning. Its only supposed to be a light rain. At worst, we get a short thunderstorm.”

“How likely is a flash flood?” I asked, an eye brow cocked. Brown fidgeted.

“Not terribly. I mean, that last flash flood that happened was fifteen years ago.”

“Well, then there is your answer.” Wallace snapped. “Flash flood, my ass. I want to get the fuck out of here.”

Andrews slowly looked to each of us.

“The third path it is.”

Chapter Text

Brown had not been joking about this path being more difficult. It involved a lot of climbing and a lot upper body strength. Our ruck sacks each weighed around 50 pounds. Add on to that, the extra weight from our vests and the weight of our weapons. What should have only taken us four hour or so, had we actually had trained for such terrain, took us six.

Just as dusk began to set, the darkness that had been looming over our heads all afternoon broke into a thunderstorm. At the risk of becoming completely drenched, Andrews called a halt. She reached into a pocket on the lower leg of her pants and tugged out her olive-drab poncho. As she tugged it over her head and gear, we followed suit.

“Conner, Downy, start looking for some dry firewood. It shouldn’t be too hard, yet, but if it continues to rain, it’ll be impossible to get anything going. Brown, get that map out and get our bearings. Wallace, you are with me. We are going to scout around and see if we can’t find a dry place to pitch our tents. Lets go.”

I shot a glance at PFC Downy and jerked my head towards a copse of pine trees not too far in the distance.

“It should still be relatively dry there. If not, there should be dead branches to break of those trees, along with dry pine needles and pine cones to use as kindling.” I slung my M-16 over my shoulder, my arms glad to have some relief from carrying around the thing. It became heavy after carrying it in roughly the same position for hours, despite the sling. I pulled a small length of 550 cord out of one the pockets on my ruck and tied a lose slip knot. Downy looked at me questioningly until I began to gather a few logs here and there, using the rope to keep them bundled neatly. She smiled and followed my lead.

Once we were under the pine trees, it only took a little digging before we found enough kindling to get us started. Brown joined us and, after gathering her own load of wood, lead us back to the camp site, where we promptly dropped off out rucksacks, stripped off our vests, and set our first load of wood down. Set back up under a short out cropping of rocks and tucked back into the hill somewhat, it was not much, but at least it would keep us dry.

Andrews began to set the fire while she directed Wallace to start setting up our sleeping bags while Downy and I brought back a few more loads of wood. Brown worked on a little side project. She had learned from the girl scouts how to tie a plastic tarp up into branches and gather fresh rain water to drink.

By our third fourth trip, we had enough to last us through most of the night. The fire, which had taken awhile to start, was now dancing in the wind, throwing our shadows on the back of the outcropping. We all stripped off our ponchos and laid them near the fire to dry before we slept. One by one, we settled around the fire, MRE’s in our hands.

Downy was the last one to plop down, and, as she settled down, grimaced.

“Whats wrong, Downy?” I asked, glancing up as I was beginning to open my own. Beef stew, yum.

“I got Chili with beans,” She answered, still frowning down at the package.

“Whats wrong with Chili?” Brown asked, just as she was squirting a package of cheese into her mouth, stashing the crackers into her pants pocket, no doubt for a easily accessible snack while hiking.

“It hates my stomach,” She grinned wryly. “Or, rather, my stomach hates it.”

“Well, we wouldn’t that,” Andrews said. “Here. I‘ve got chicken noodle. I happen to love Chili.”

Downy smiled brightly and tossed her pack to Andrews, who tossed her own back to Downy.

We settled into a comfortable silence as we ate. By now, I had assumed I would have started to feel better. I had greedily guzzled the entire contents of one canteen, and was on to a second. I was very grateful for Browns’ little set up. If this rain kept up like this, it would be slowing our progress down to our first check point greatly, and I wasn’t sure if my water would hold out the way I was drinking it. As I took a second, and third, bite of my beef stew, I set it back down.

“I think I am just going to head off to lay down. I’ll pull the grave yard watch.” I knew noone would mind me going to bed early if it got them out of having to keep watch over everyone in the middle of the night. Andrews tossed me a small wrist watch and I set the time to wake me just before eleven.

She made her way over to me.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t think this is just a hangover, Tal.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Probably the flu or some bullshit like that.”

She nodded her head slowly.

“Get some rest. Wallace is taking first shift. Brown will take second. I’ll take third, and Downy will take forth. Tomorrow, you and Brown can switch.”

“I owe you one, Ally.”

“No,” She corrected. “You owe me two. Remember, I had you pack your ruck early.”

I grinned tiredly.

“Keep that up, and I’ll just have to go tell Scott about your crush.”

“Fuck off, and go to bed Tal.” She answered back, returning my grin.

I slunk off to my sleeping bag, using my ruck as a pillow and pulling my M-16 close. Normally, I would have shed my ACU’s and tucked them under me to dry them, but I was too tired. Within second of closing my eyes, I was asleep.

I awoke to screams, and a deafening roll of thunder.

“Sergeant! Sergeant!” My eyes snapped open for the second time in twenty four hours to find Andrews in my face, a beam of light just to my left “Get everyone up and moving, now!”

I sat up abruptly and watched as she strode back over to Brown, flashlight in hand, who was motioning wildly. Disoriented, I looked around me and was horrified. Lightning was lighting up the sky around us, the fire long having since been dowsed by the rain. Golf ball sized rain drops were coming down on our heads, and the thunder was nearly deafening. I pulled myself out of my bag, thankful I had fallen asleep in my clothes and with my boots on. I shook Wallace awake, then Downy. In a matter of minutes, we were all standing, our gear back on. All joking aside, we did have our discipline and our training. We were still soldiers.

“ALRIGHT! Gather around!” Andrews motioned for us all, and we closed in to her, straining to hear over the noise. Her eyes were wide, and she seemed frazzled. Even Brown was looking slightly panicked.

“Alright,” Andrews said again. She swallowed. “Now, don’t panic,”

Now, in my experience, when someone says ‘don’t panic’, its usually a damn good time to start to.

“We need to start moving our. We need to get out of this ravine, ASAP. Brown…”

“I miscalculated. Im sorry. Im so sorry. We are two miles south of where I thought and we are right below a cliff…” She was breathless, nearly sobbing now. I reached out and touched her arm.

“Its okay, Brown. Relax. Breath.”

“No. You don’t get it. Look!” She pointed down. I didn’t understand what I was seeing until I stepped closer. My eyes widened. If the rain, thunder, and wind not been so loud, we would have heard it sooner. There, at the edge of our ledge, was a thick stream of mud and rocks beginning to slide and drop down. It was not much, and I glanced at Brown.

“It started off as nothing. But within minutes, minutes! It started dropping faster. We need to get out of here…”

“What the fuck where you thinking?!” Wallace snapped. She reached out and smacked Brown soundly across the face, her glasses skewing on her face and biting in.. Immediately, I snagged her by the arm and hauled her back. Despite the fact that she was 5’7”, easily topping me by five inches, I had sinewy strengths built up from years in the service, and from a childhood of working on a farm.

“This isn’t the time, dammit!” Andrews snapped, her voice breathy. I glanced at Brown, who was touching her cheek and starring at Wallace shocked. Poor Downy was silent, obviously frightened.

“Im the one to blame. Im the one to make the decision.” Andrews allowed. She looked down.

“Damn right it is.” Wallace snapped.

“Oh shut up, bitch. You agreed to this path too!” Downy finally snapped.

“Why don’t you shut your…”

“Enough!” I snapped. “It doesn’t matter how we got here. We need to get the fuck out.”

“Conner is right. Brown, look at that map of yours and tell us where we are going.”

Andrews reached out and steadied her as she looked at the map again, holding her flashlight above her head to illuminate the now damn map. Brown wiped at the water gathered in her glasses.

“If we head up this way, maybe…”

Just then, we heard a loud, long creek followed by several snaps. We all jerked our heads up. In the near absolute darkness that surrounded us, we could hear a dull roar. A flash of lightning, and all hell broke loose.

“RUN!”

The tree that we had heard breaking came down the cliff that was above us at a terrifying pace. We all broke out in a dead run, heading up the ravine, searching for a place we could climb out. Where it had once been dry, water began to pool and swirl. Mud splashed back up at us as we ran. Brown stumbled in the mud and she fell.,

I hesitated, then ran back to her.

“My glasses!” She yelled.

“There’s no time!” I hauled her to her feet and looked out into the storm, trying to see where Andrews, Wallace, and Downy went. I dragged Brown along with me until we met up with the rest of our squad. We had reach a relatively low outcropping. We were out of breath and panic had truly set in. The water, which had started in puddles, was now above our ankles.

“We’re going to have to climb here!” Andrews yelled above the storm. “Come on, Downy. You first.”

Downy nodded frantically dropped her ruck. Andrews and I knelt close to one another with our hands criss crossed. Downy stepped up on our knees, then into our hands. We heaved her up, slipping as the mud sucked at our boots. She grabbed once, twice, and then the third time snagged a hand hold. With a little effort, she hauled herself up the rest of the way. We passed her her ruck, and she used that the anchor herself. She laid on her belly and reach down a hand. Wallace was next, then Brown. Without her glasses, she was nearly blind and she needed the other two to help steady her. We passed up each ruck as we went. We could not be without supplies in this storm. After Andrews and my own gear were up, I yelled to her.

“Come on, Andrews!” I said, beginning to kneel down. The water was rising fast. It was at least a foot now.

“No. You first! Im taller and it’ll take less for you guys to reach me!”

“Dammit, Ally!” I snapped.

“Come on!” She knelt down and braced herself. I clenched my teeth and stepped up into her cupped palms. She hefted me up to the waiting hands. Wallace and Downy grasped my wrists as I grasped theirs and I was unceremoniously hauled up and dumped. I whipped around, wiping mud out of my eyes, and reach out for Ally as I lay on my belly. Wallace and Downy helped feed me down by my feet and I reached out for her. We grasped wrists and I was slowly pulled back.

I hauled her up and over my shoulder. I slowly stood up near the edge and we all looked at each other in the dim light starting to grin stupidly. We had made it out of the ravine. I stood slowly.

“Lets get a move on! We need to find some place dry!” I shouted. I reached down and grabbed my pack, wiping rain out of my eyes once more. Another flash of lightning rent the sky and hit a tree right next to us. We all yelled and ducked. I slipped in the mud and hit the ground hard, smashing my face against something hard. Immediately, warmth spread over my lip and a copper taste coated my tongue.

I slowly began to sit up, the disorientation I felt earlier back with a vengeance. As I came to my knees and was about to stand, I heard a loud groan followed by a crack. My eyes widened as I felt the earth beneath me move.

“Conner!” I jerked my heard up to look at Andrews’ stricken face. She glanced up stream, then back at me. “Don’t stand! Crawl! Hurry!”

I glanced up the ravine and paled. In between flashes of lightning, I could see water, mud, uprooted trees and whatever else that had been in the way of the flash flood coming at me in a swirling maelstrom. I could feel the ground shake as the water flowed near. I hurriedly began to crawl, but as I started forward, I felt my boot get caught in a root. I twisted in a panic and tried desperately to free myself.

“CONNER!” I could barely the yell of my squad mates as the flood crashed below me.

My heart raced faster. I had seconds. I yanked my boot free and turned around just as I felt the ground give way.

Nothing slowed down. Time didn’t stop. I wasn’t suddenly numb. I could hear and see everything with a painful clarity. The faces of my squad, the horror written on the face of my best friend. The sudden plunge into the icy water.

I struggled, panicking, trying to get my ruck off of my back. I had been out in the cold too damn long and my fingers were numb. I kicked hard and managed to grab a breath of air, sputtering and choking as I inhaled water, too. I tried desperately to keep above the water, trying to get air into my oxygen starved lungs.

Out of nowhere, a tree limb whizzed by me and struck my chest. I reached out blindly even as the air was pushed out with a painfully sharp blow. I managed to hang on to the branch, clutching at it desperately. I sputtered and coughed again as a mouthful of water made its way down my throat.

Flash of lightning. My squad was nowhere in sight. I spotted a sudden wave of water come at me and I managed to hold my breath.

Flash of lightning. A tree was bent across the ravine and I reach up, frantic to grab on to something, anything. A moment of success.

Flash of lightning, and I realized, too late, that the tree was balanced wrong. I let go, but too late. The tree tilted and I heard the creak as I rushed pass on my branch. The resulting splash sent me crashing into the side of the ravine.

Flash of lightning. My branch cracked into pieces as it struck, and my body was jolted.

Flash of lightning. My head submerged and I kicked hopelessly, trying to get air. My head broke surface once.

Flash of lightning. And then.

Nothing.

Chapter Text

My head hurt. That was the first thought came to me. It felt like someone had taken a hammer to the back of my head. I reached up and tenderly touched the back of a head where I felt a goose-egg forming. I opened my eyes to be assaulted by a too-bright light. I rolled over and grass tickled my face.

Grass?

I groaned. Loudly.

“I’m never drinking again,” I moaned.

“Many people have made and broken that promise, my dear. Myself being one of them.” A merry voice stated. I froze. It was not a voice I recognized. My eyes snapped open, despite the unbearable pain that the light brought. A tall elderly man was sitting on a log in front of me, dressed in what I could only describe as a long grey cloak. He had a tall, pointy hat on his head and was smoking from a pipe. His beard was long and streaked in various hues of grey. Even his hair was long.

I blinked a few times and looked at my surroundings. I was laying in bright green grass, flowers and bushes scattered here and there. Huge trees in hues of green I had never seen before rose up from the ground. The sky above was blue, hardly a cloud in the sky, and birds flitted back and forth amongst the trees and bushes.

I sat up slowly and felt, rather than saw, the old mans eyes on me.

“I’m sorry. Where am I?” I asked.

“Near Bree. Chetwood South, to be precise.” The man took a puff of his pipe and blew out a ring. He smiled kindly.

“Uh… where?”

“Middle Earth.”

I barked out a laugh, surprised to find that it hurt so badly. How much had a drank last night? I rubbed my hand over my face.

“Did my friends put you up to this?”

“No, no my dear.” He answered. His eye brows drooped some. I moved to stand and he looked at me with some concern.

“Right,” I snorted. “I am in Middle Earth, like some Mary-Sue fantasy. Yup. Uh-huh. I am going to go now,” I tried to stand, but was surprised at how difficult it was. My vision swam and I had to swallow back rising bile.

“You should not try moving just yet. You’ve suffered a terrible ordeal.”

“Terrible ordeal…? What terrible…. Or…deal..” I trailed off as I looked down. I was not wearing my civilian clothes. I was wearing very tattered and stained ACU’s. My boots were off and drying near a fire I had not noticed initially, as was my ruck sack and other gear. I licked my lips and swallowed hard. Wait a second.

I reached up with my fingers and touched the corner of my lip. It was swollen and so very tender. I stood suddenly and stumbled back, tripping over a very familiar looking branch. A familiar branch? Suddenly the events of the last 24 hours hit me.

“Where the fuck am I?!” I demanded.

“Miss Conner…”

“…..How the hell do you know my name?!” I snarled. He closed his eyes for a moment before gesturing for me to sit.

“Please. Let me explain, Miss Conner.”

“Its Sergeant Conner,” I snapped back. “Im not sitting down until you explain.”

“You are dead.”

I sat down.

“Or rather, you would be, if you were still in your world. You were in a flash flood, yes? If I had not intervened, you would be dead. Instead, you are here, in Middle-Earth. I am Gandalf the Grey, and I am asking you to help me.”

“This is insane. Insane. I must be hallucinating. That’s it. I hit my head and Im in the hospital and there are all these monitors and thingies and Im hallucinating. Its all because I dragged Alicia,” I swallowed painfully again, “to see that damn movie.”

Gandalf grimaced.

“Sar-gent Conner,” He said, articulating the word carefully. “This is no hallucination. I dreamt of you.”

I starred at him, dumbstruck.

“I slept soundlessly until I heard a cry. In my dream I stood upon a cliff and watched as a river swept you away. In my mind, I heard words. ‘Thorin does not deserve death.’”

He blinked slowly and took another puff, thoughtfully suddenly where before he had been cautious, treating me like a small animal who he was trying not to spook.

“Now that I hear you speak, I am sure those words came from you. What do you know of Thorin Oakenshield?”

“Hes in a story. A work of fiction. Its fake. Hes fake.” I stuttered.

“I can assure you, he is not.” He sounded stern now, his eyes furrowed. “ I’ll ask you again; What do you know of Thorin Oakenshield?”

His tone was suddenly much more demanding, his presence suddenly more pronounced.

“Uh… hes the dwarf king. Or, rather he should be. But he and his kin… are… Outcast. From Erebor because of Smaug. He is prophesized to return and take back the mountain.”

Gandalf stood slowly and turned his back to me.

“And the death you spoke of?”

“I don’t know if I should say anything… If I am really in Middle Earth… And this is anything more than a hallucination, which I highly doubt it is because this is fucking unreal…”

Gandalf cleared his throat and turned slowly to look back at me.

“It could change the course of the future. If I let something slip then I could ruin everything. Fucking hell, me just sitting here, talking to you, could change everything.”

Gandalf gave me a measuring glance.

“I apologize.” I started a little and starred at him. “You are correct, of course. Unless you were meant to come here.”

“Come again?”

“It twas no mistake that I heard you speak and dreamt of your impending death. The Valar do not idly allow for such magic to occur, and the amount of effort I put forth into bringing you here would have not been possible without their assistance.”

“The Valar…?” I asked breathlessly. “But that doesn’t make sense. I’d be in the story.”

“Not necessarily. If you were in the story, you would never have been here.”

“…..huh?”

Gandalf just smiled.

“You had to read the story to gain the knowledge necessary to help on this quest. If you had not read the story, you would not be here. Therefore, you could not be IN the story.”

“That still does not make any sense…” I trailed off, my headache over coming me for a moment. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, I hurt. There was not a part of me that did not ache. It felt like I had been put in a washing machine on heavy wash. I mentally made a run down of the worst pain.

I knew I had a bump on my head. My lip was no doubt split. There was a tenderness by my eye that told me my cheekbone was probably bruised. There were crusty patches on my forehead, part dried mud and part blood. My chest hurt, though it was more of an ache than a sharp pain, so thankfully nothing broken there. I felt an innumerable amount of small scrapes and bruises that protested each of my movements.

“Come, my de….Sar-gent Conner. Gather your things if you are able and we will head to a nearby inn where you can wash. It is a lovely place, the Prancing Pony. All sort of strange folk in and out of there, I hardly think you will be noticed…”

I let out a long, low, breath and tried to think. Not in the story, but still in the story. Help on this …quest….

My eyes opened and I leveled a sharp glare at Gandalf.

“Wait. Whoa, whoa. No. I can not help. What part of changing the story did you not understand?”

“What part about the Valar helping me bring you here did you not understand?” He questioned back, barely turning to look at me. He picked up a small bag from behind the log he had been sitting on and slung it over his shoulder. In his right hand he picked up an ornate staff. He gestured as if he was going to help grab my things and I scrabbled to pull on my boots- now thankfully dry. I hauled my ruck sack over my shoulder and steadied it, closing my eyes a moment as nausea overwhelmed me.

“Besides, Sar-gent Conner” He started after a long pause. “If I had any doubt about your meaning to be here, it was erased when I saw you clutching that branch.”

“Why would a branch mean anything at all?” I asked, even more confused then I already was. I looked down at the branch and my heart ached,

“That, my dear, is a branch of Oak.”

Chapter Text

My mind was reeling as I walked behind Gandalf. An oak branch. Middle Earth. Dead. I had had some crazy dreams in my life, but nothing had ever compared to this. I shook my head and endeavored to find out just how deep this rabbit hole went, so to speak.

I adjusted my ruck sack on my shoulders and realized that, despite all that had happened during the flash flood, I was not nearly as sore as I ought to have been. I frowned a little and trailed my eyes up to look at Gandalf’s back. I took a few long steps to catch up to him, well used to having to change my pace to match the stride of those taller than I.

“Uh… ahem…. Gandalf? Not that I want to sound… uh… ungrateful. But why am I not sore?” I asked curiously.

“Much of the magic that brought you here also helped to heal you of your worst injuries,” He answered simply. I had a morbid curiosity and was going to ask just what this injuries were when I thought of something else.

“My squad….” Gandalf cast a curious glance in my direction, “Rather, the people I was with. Are they okay? Do you know?”

Gandalf paused a moment and hesitated. “I can not tell you of their fate, only that they were hale and healthy when you were taken.”

I swallowed and let out a shaky.

“Yeah. Okay. I mean, good.”

I fell silent again and walked quietly beside the old man. I had always thought whenever I had read the books or watched the movies that I would have so many questions for Gandalf. He was so old and wise. Had seen and done so much. But now that I stood beside him, all I could think of was home. I hoped that Andrews and the others would make it back safely.

We had not walked terribly long when Gandalf paused and looked me over. He reached into his small bag and produced a long grey cloak.

“You are dressed strangely, even for Bree-landers that are used to the unusual. Please. Wear this for now.” He said, holding it out to me. After a moments hesitation, I set down my pack and threw it around my shoulders. The smell of tobacco -pipe weed- wafted around me as the cloak drifted around my form. I clasped it around my neck and pulled the hood up over my head before pulling my ruck back on.

It wasn’t long before the bustle of the small town made itself known. People on foot, in carts, and on horse back milled around as we made our way through the gates. I could not stop myself from looking around in awe. People were everywhere, calling out their wares at street side stalls. People watered plants out on their small balconies. There was a man up on a roof, pounding nails into shingles. Horses and ponies passed by, nickering and snorting as they went. And the people themselves! Their were Men and Hobbits’ a plenty, as diverse as could be. They chatted in the streets amicably.

And, much to my amusement, they all ignored me in favor of the tall wizard I traveled with. We reached a large two-story building that was near to the center of the town. Above the door was a hand carved wooden sign that read The Prancing Pony. With a gentlemanly flourish, Gandalf held the door open for me and guided me in. A portly looking man dressed in brown slacks and a stained white shirt greeted us nearly immediately.

“Ah, Gandalf. Back so soon? I though when you left with that roguish looking dwarf that we’d seen the last of you. Strange little folk, and that’s with Bree being over run with the wee hobbits! Make no mistake, I am quite fond of them. They are a much friendlier folk then those dwarves, I can tell you….” The man rambled.

“Indeed, indeed. They are an…. Interesting folk, hobbits. But that aside, my companion and I could use a room. Is there enough hot water for a bath? I fear we’ve been traveling in the wild for some days and have had little chance to bathe.”

“Oh, of course, of course.” The man looked me over and drew himself up. He must not have known quite what to think of me, with my face hidden and my shape so odd under my gear. “Right this way,”

We followed him through the busy tavern, dodging hobbits and men alike. I was surprised it was so busy, but I suppose in a small town there was not much to do but gather at the local tavern, eat, drink, and be merry. A drunk young man fell over in front of me and I gingerly stepped over him.

“You’ll have a hell of a hangover, tomorrow, friend,” I muttered softly. The man answered with a loud snore that ended in a large stream of spittle and drool escaping his mouth and I shook my head. Yup. Never drinking again.

We made our way up the steps and, once I had dropped my things off with Gandalf, who promised to guard my possessions with his life, I followed the inn keeper to the bathing area downstairs. He turned me over to a busty older woman. She tugged me into the wash room before I could object and closed the door, flipping a little sign that I assumed was the signal for ‘occupied’.

“Now, mister, no need to be shy ‘round little old Becka. You just peel your clothes right on off and I’ll get you everythin’ needed to get yourself all clean,”

I looked around hesitantly.

“Oh, come now. Here’s a towel if you want to hide your manly bits. We get all sorts here, mister, and if shy is what you are, shy is what you are. No shame in it,”

She clucked her tongue at me and thrust a towel in to my hand and ushered me behind a paneled curtain.

“Go ahead now, I wont peek.”

She disappeared, leaving me behind the curtain, and I heard her bustling around the room, preparing this and that. I sighed in defeat, having a feeling that no matter how much I protested she would not leave. I pulled off Gandalfs’ cloak and threw it over a nearby hook. My ACU jacket and pants followed, then my thermal shirt and pants, followed by my ACU under shirt and finally my undergarments. I reached up and attempted to tug my hair out of the bun that I had tied it in. It was impossibly knotted and snarled and I grumbled in defeat. Maybe this Becka could help me out.

I glanced at one of the panels, noticing that their was a mirror tucked there and I winced. If this was how I looked after I had been healed, I really did not know what to see what I looked like before. I had a gash on the left side of my forehead, just above my temple. My left cheek bone was swollen and a nasty shade of purple. The corner of my right lip was split badly. My collar bone on the right was bruised and there was a near perfect circle imprinted in my chest. My vest must have saved me from more damage, and I wondered what happened to it. I had not been wearing it when I woke.

I had, as I earlier suspected, a myriad of bruises and scrapes over my arms and legs, including a particularly nasty gash on my shin.

“Are you ready, mister?” Becka called from behind the screen and I started, having been lost in my reflection. I tucked the towel around me, more to block the view of my injuries than for any true modesty. Something about having showered and lived with 80 + girls in the barracks had long ago stripped me of my modesty.

“Oh! Miss! Why didn’t you say nothing? And here I am, going on about you being a man and all. I’m terribly sorry,” Becka said, here eyes going wide when she saw me.

“Its, uh, fine, ma’am. Not like you could see my face,” I smiled tightly and she frowned as she came closer.

“Oh, sweet sugar, what ever happened?” She asked. “Oh, never mind, never mind. Lets get you cleaned up. How is that? Let Auntie Becka fix you up. And none of this ma‘am business.”

The woman, who had been outrageously flirty and blunt when she thought I was a man, suddenly turned into an anxious hen. She led me to the large wooden tub in the middle of the room, and ushered me in, snapping the towel away from me with a flourish as she encouraged me to sink into the warm water.

I took a step in and hissed as the water- which was quite a bit warmer than I had been expecting- hit the many cuts on my form. I winced as I sunk down. As the water sloshed around me, I had an episode of near panic, my fear from the flood suddenly in the fore front of my mind.

Becka touched my shoulder and I jumped.

“Oh, little miss. Don’t you pay no mind to me. You close your eyes and relax. I’ll get that hair sorted out in no time.”

I let out a weak smile of thanks. I was so far out of my element I could do nothing else. I tried my best to lean back and close my eyes, but it was no use. Every time I closed my eyes all I could picture was flashing light and the sound of thunder in my ears. Becka must have noticed my unease because, as she drew up a chair behind me, she began to talk soothingly of her life growing up in Bree. From her fathers house, to her husband, who was apparently the inn keeper. She talked about how much she loved him and the life they had built, about the children they had. I listened politely, but could not help but let my mind stray to my own family.

My mother had raised me by herself. She had literally used a sperm donor when she realized that if she waited any later in her life to settle down and have children, she might very well be too old. My grandparents had never really approved, but they loved me all the same. They had died when I was in my teens, my grandmother when I was 13, and my grandfather a scant six months later. I never had any siblings and, when my mother died when I was 19, I joined the military to fill in the gap. It had never really been a big ambition of mine, but it got me out of the small farm town I grew up. That in itself made it worth while.

Becka’s voice was soothing and I found myself relaxing as she washed my hair and worked it through with her feelings.

“Your hair is beautiful, if you don’t mind me sayin so, miss. Its so long and dark, specially when its wet. And so straight! Many a Bree- girl would be jealous. Its hard to tame the curls so many of us are born with,”

“I’ve got my mothers hair and eyes,” I offered up, feeling like I should share something, even so small as that, after all she had told me.

“Those eyes of yours must get all of the fella’s, too. That dark hair, that pale skin, and those blue eyes. We’ll get you cleaned up in no time.” She pushed me gently to sit up and turn, and she resumed talking softly as she cleaned the wounds on my face and soothed my cheek with some sort of balm.

“You married, Miss?” She asked suddenly.

“Ah, no.” I answered

“Betrothed?”

“No, ma’am.” She smiled wryly at me.

“Well, all good things come to those who wait.”

We fell into a comfortable silence as I finished washing and she bustled around the room. The water began to get cold and she helped me get out, leading me once more behind the curtains. I pulled on just my ACU pants and undershirt, tugging Gandalf’s cloak over my shoulders again. I bundled up the rest of my clothes under my arm.

“Thank you ma’am. Becka.” I said, giving her a short smile as she lead me back up the stairs into my room. I knocked briefly and, upon hearing Gandalf’s voice within, entered.

“Are you feeling better, Sar-gent Conner?” He asked as he turned to face me. I nodded slowly as I closed the door behind me. I glanced around the room and noticed that, thankfully, there were two beds. Gandalf chuckled as I made my way closer to the bed farthest from the door where I had deposited my pack.

“I am going to go downstairs to procure us some food and some drink. I hardly think you would be up for the hustle and bustle of the rowdy bar below,” I shook my head as he opened the door.

“No, not really. Not just yet. I need to change and… to think, I guess. Its been… a lot.”

“I understand, Sargent Conner.”

“Its Talya,” I said suddenly. He turned his head towards me and cocked his head ever so slightly.

“My name. Its Talya. Seems stupid to call me by a rank that doesn’t mean anything here,” I said with a slight shrug.

“Very well, Talya. I will return shortly. Lock the door as I leave,” He cautioned. The door closed and I walked back over, locked it, then closed my eyes, and leaned against it.

I could hear the faint rumble of voices below as I took in the small room I was in. There was a small fireplace with a cozy fire lit on one side. A small window sat on wall next to it. In the middle of the room, a small table and chairs. The beds were against the wall opposite of the window. The small fire made the room surprisingly warm.

I walked back over to my ruck sack and eyed it warily. I was terrified to find what had been lost or damaged in the deluge I had been caught in. If I truly was stuck here in Middle- Earth, I did not want to be without anything at all.

After tugging the clasp on the top of the pack free, I picked up the corner of my ruck sack and gingerly upended it on the floor. I plopped down and began to sift through it.

My extra clothes were still damp. A few pairs of underwear. Socks. A spare set of uniforms; undershirt, pants and jacket. My cover was tucked in there, too, balled up haphazardly and shoved into a pocket. My extra set of boots, my ‘warm weather’ set, were nearly untouched.

Lighter, shot. Too water logged to work. Ammo, useless. My rifle was nowhere to be found, and I could vaguely remember it being left behind in the ravine. Duct tape, ruined. My sleeping bag had been left in the ravine, as well, so that was out. I still had my tent stakes and my tent cover. Two canteens, one of which was untouched. I tugged out one of a few Ziploc bags and was relieved to find it was still sealed. After taking a glimpse at the contents- a picture of my mom and I, a few pictures of friends, a few letters- I set it off to the side. A tangled up ball of 550 cord came next, then a very water logged notebook. The five packs of MRE’s I had packed were untouched. Of course they were, I thought to myself. They could probably survive the apocalypse. Another Ziploc bag that held camo makeup.

I picked up my back up poncho and shook it out, only to drop my very heavy k-bar knife on my ankle bone.

“God damn son of a bitch!” I yelped.

“Such language would make a Ranger blush,” Gandalf said from behind me.

I’ll admit. I let out a very girly-sounded shriek. I whipped around to stare at the wizard who had some how balanced two plates of food perfectly in one hand, and held two tankards in another.

“How did you…?” I asked, breathlessly. I glanced from him to the open door he was standing in.

“I am a wizard,” He said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Right. Right.” I picked up my knife and tugged it out of its sheath. It was damp, but nothing to worry about. At least I had some sort of a weapon, even it was just a small knife. The door thmped shut and I heard Gandalf walk behind me.

“Come, sit. We shall talk,” Gandalf set out the plates, procured silverware from somewhere, and set down the tankards. He sat and gestured opposite himself. Suddenly bone tired, I stood and walked to the table before unceremoniously plopping into the open chair and set my knife down. I glanced warily into the tankard.

“Its tea. Unfortunately, there is not much call for tea in an establishment such as this, so, alas, an ale mug is what I had to make do with. I hardly thought you wanted any more to do with beverages of the fermented or brewed variety, considering the severity of your prior statement. Something along the lines of ‘never drinking again,’?” He chuckled and sipped at his mug. I drank the tea gratefully, hardly tasting it.

I glanced down at my plate to find a hunk of some sort of meat, potatoes, a pile of starchy looking things that may have been a carrots, and a hard roll. My stomach growled and I was surprised to find that I was hungry.

I cut off a bite of the meat and shoved it into my mouth. As in the army, I ate quickly, as though I had a time limit, and before Gandalf was done with half of his plate, mine was empty. I sat back and regarded him silently.

“So…. What is the plan?” I asked after a few beats.

“Tomorrow, Thorin Oakenshield and his company of twelve dwarves will call upon Bilbo Baggins of Bag End. I will meet with them.”

“What am I doing?”

“I am not quite sure as of yet, which is why I wanted to speak with you. Unfortunately, dwarves are very… secretive and do not come to trust others easily. And with you being of the, ahem, gentler persuasion, I think Thorin will object to your presence.”

“Sexist bastards,” I muttered.

“What was that, Talya?” Gandalf asked, pausing a moment to look at me. He had finished his dinner now and was tugging out his pipe and a small bag.

“Nothing. Go on.”

“Would you object terribly to hiding your gender for the time being?” He asked, looking at me, his bushy eyebrows furrowed together.

“Do you really think I’d be able to fool them? And is that really smart? I mean, once they find out I am a female, wont that just make things worse?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“I thought of that, as well. However. We do not need to tell them, per say, that you are a man. We shall just not correct them in their assumption.”

“Making an ass out of ‘u’ and me.” I muttered. Again, Gandalf paused and looked at me curiously. I sighed. I had a feeling I would be explaining myself a lot.

“Assume. If you break it up, its ‘ass’, ‘you’, and ‘me.’ When you assume something, you make an ass out of ‘u’ and ‘me’. “ I explained with a shrug. “Its just something we say where I am from.”

“Indeed. In this instance, I believe that it is relevant. I dare say, once it comes to light that you are indeed a woman, I think I will rather enjoy seeing the look on the face of the dwarves. Thorin, in particular. He is not a dwarf easily surprised.”

“…Right.”

“So. We will make a few changes in your appearance… And perhaps if you dress in your strange garb, it will help cloak you even further. They will not know what to make of you.”

“I have some camo makeup that I could use to paint my face. I mean, it wont be perfect, but it will at least skew some of my features.”

“Camo…?” Gandalf asked, speaking the word slowly.

“Camouflage. You’ll see. Anyways… Makeup could help. If I can get some strips of fabric, I can wrap it around my chest to tuck back the girls’”

At this, Gandalf cleared his throat very suddenly. I realized, belatedly, that I was in a culture that was much more reserved in the mentioning of unmentionables. I realized, with a wry grin, that Gandalf had, not once, glanced near the fire where my things were drying. If I didn’t know better, I would think I had embarrassed the old wizard.

“I’m sorry. I guess the culture will take some getting used to. Where I am from we are very… open, I guess the word is.” Gandalf gave a slight chuckle.

“Forgive me, my dear, if I embarrassed you. It merely surprised me that one from the race of man would be so candid. You will find, perhaps in time, that dwarves, and elves too, to a lesser extent, are much more lax in their speech and mannerisms when in the company of those they are familiar with.”

I gave a short, dry laugh. “Not much embarrasses me anymore, Gandalf. I thought maybe I had shocked you.”

“It is hard to shock an old man such as myself. Now. As we were. Perhaps you could cut your hair…”

“Nope. Not gonna happen.” I stated bluntly. I loved my hair because it reminded me so much of my mother. I had not cut it going into the Army, and I was not about to cut it now.

“I can braid it. I can put it in a bun. I can corn-roll it…. Nevermind… But I will not cut it.”

Gandalf sighed.

“As you wish, my dear.”

He puffed on his pipe again, amusing himself with what seemed like his favorite pass time; making elaborate smoke -rings, if you could call them that.

“So if I help in this quest. If I do this thing… Can I go home?” I asked suddenly, my voice small. Gandalf blew out a puff of smoke and regarded me solemnly. After a moments silence, he spoke.

“When I said you would have be dead had I not intervened… I spoke the truth. If you were to go home, if such a thing would even be possible now, you would be returned to your exact predicament that you were plucked from. If you returned, dear Talya, you would die.”

I swallowed hard and felt a sudden ache in my chest. I nodded, a little too quickly.

“So if this whole thing is real and I really am here in Middle-Earth… Then I am stuck here for, for better or worse. I will live and die here.”

“I am afraid so.”

There was a lump in my throat all of a sudden. It was true that I didn’t have much at home. I had a small crappy apartment. No family. No pets. But I did have my few close friends. And though my belongings were few, they were mine. My own. And now, nothing.

“I am sorry.” Gandalf stated softly, in a very sincere tone. I did not realize that my eyes had welled up with tears until I felt one trail down my cheek.

“No. Its fine. Forget it.” I muttered hastily, wiping away the unbidden tears with the back of my hand. I sniffed hard and cleared my throat.

“As you wish,” Gandalf sat back in his chair and appraised me. It seemed as though he would speak a few times, but he merely puffed his pipe. We sat in silence once more, the dim hum of the bustle downstairs and the occasional crackle of wood in the fireplace serenading the suddenly heavy moment.

“Can you ride?” I startled a little, having found myself staring off into the fireplace.

“Sorry, what?”

“Horse back. Can you ride? Is there such a thing where you come from?”

“Yeah. I can ride. Its been a few years, but I grew up on a farm. I rode horses all the time.”

He nodded slowly.

“Tomorrow, then. We will find you a pony to ride and you will come with me to meet with Mr. Baggins.”

“No. No no no no no. I don’t do ponies.” I glanced up at him. “I’ve ridden all sorts of horses and I get along fine with them. Ponies and I do not get along well on a long-term basis. Besides. I don‘t have any thing of value to get any sort of ride. I‘ll walk. That I am used to.”

“You can not walk. You will be traveling a far distance and you could not possibly keep up with the rest of us on the back of our steeds.”

I was silent. In my overwhelmed mind, I thought of all the fan fictions I had read where the female character was suddenly forced to share a pony with Fili or Kili, or one of the other dwarves. I suddenly burst out in near hysterical laughter at the thought of being forced to share with Bombur. Gandalf starred, but chose to ignore my outburst.

“I have a few favors to call in, so do not worry about the payment of a pony. Or, rather, horse. If you require supplies, I have the extra gold to help you pack what you need. After all,” He smiled thoughtfully, albeit sadly, “I brought you here. The least I could do is see you on your way.”

I sobered quickly and feared for my sanity for a moment. Surely it could not be healthy for me to bounce from one emotion to another so quickly. I regarded Gandalf, debating whether or not I was going to argue. I thought brightly for a moment.

“Thank you, Gandalf. I appreciate it.”

“Not at all, my dear. Come now. We should be off ’ere dawn approaches.”

He stood slowly and made his way to his bed. He put out his pipe and tucked it in the sleeves of his robe before he placed his hat on the bedside table. He lay down, his ankles crossed and his hands clasped over his chest. Eyes closed now, he began to hum something softly to himself.

I nodded after him and stood slowly. I finished the dregs of my tea before heading over to my things. Glancing out the window, I realized it was dark now. It made me feel even more tired, if that were possible. With little enthusiasm, I repacked my now-dry clothes, boots, and whatever else that had been undamaged. Hair ties. Baby wipes. Toothpaste. A small Swiss army knife. Toilet paper folded and compressed into a Ziploc bag. A small stick of deodorant.

I debated taking my tent with me, and decided to leave the poles behind. I could not remember anyone using a tent in the movie, or the books. I did keep the cover, though. Never knew when you might need a tarp.

With everything repacked and rearranged, I hesitantly packed my Ammo. I really didn’t want to leave it behind at the expense of someone’s life. The now-dry notebook I tossed in the fire. It was crinkled and rumbled beyond repair, anyways. The duct tape followed. My k-bar knife I kept in hand.

My ruck sack, now completely dry and repacked, I placed off to the side of the bed. After tucking my knife under the pillow, I lay down and turned to my side, facing the door. It felt odd laying in a bed after all that had happened. I felt naked without my rifle and really did not like how vulnerable I was.

Gandalf’s humming was lulling me to sleep. I fought to keep my eyes open, afraid to sleep. I was afraid to see where I would be when I woke.

Tomorrow, a horse and supplies. Tomorrow, I would meet the soon to be famous hobbit, Bilbo Baggins.

As I drifted off to sleep, something occurred to me.

“Gandalf?” I asked sleepily.

“Yes, Talya?”

“Take the bet tomorrow, and double it.” I smiled softly to myself at his confused expression and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

I woke to Gandalf softly calling my name. I opened my eyes slowly to a dark room. The fire had gone out some time in the night and it was still early. I sat up and rubbed my left eye with the palm of my hand.

“What time is it?”

“About an hour before dawn,” He answered in a hushed tone. His hat was already back on his head, his things gathered in his hand. “Gather your things. I will meet you down stairs when you are ready.”

I nodded and watched him walk out the door, closing it snuggly behind him. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. I stretched and, per my usual routine, twisted my back to the left and right, feeling a series of satisfying ‘pop’s as I did so.

I reached into the pile of discarded clothes that I had worn yesterday and shook them out. I grinned slightly to myself when my undergarments, namely my underwear and bra, fell out, glad that Gandalf had left.

I tucked the offending garments into my pack. I wasn’t quite willing to part with them, despite the fact that they were stained with mud and had a few holes in them. I pulled out a dry pair of undies, then looked over the thermals I had been wearing yesterday. After a moment of debating, I reached behind me and grabbed my knife from under the pillow. Grabbing the shirt, I quickly cut it into a few long strips. I had the cloak I borrowed from Gandalf, now. I didn’t really need the shirt, too.

I tugged off my clothes and pulled on the clean underwear. Then I grabbed the strips of shirt and tied a few well placed knots. It would not be the most comfortable breast-band in the world, but it would work. I slowly wound it around my chest, thankful that I was not overly endowed. A little more than B’s, a little less than a C. Pulled tight and tied off, the stretchy material pulled my breasts tight to my body, leaving little in the way of curves.

Next came a pair of clean socks, followed by my ACU pants, undershirt, and jacket. I realized I was missing my dog tags, too, and was surprised it had taken me so long to realize it. I rubbed my throat absently and realized it was slightly sore in spots. They probably had been lost, too, along with my vest, weapon and helmet.

I tugged my boots on and laced them tightly. I reached into my ruck and pulled out a new pair of hair bands and used those to tie my hair back up into my usual bun, knotting it low on my neck. I grabbed the makeup, too, and using a small compact I had kept with it, began to apply layers to my face and neck, wincing whenever I touched a bruise. After about ten minutes, I inspected my efforts and nodded. It would do. The makeup broke up the contours of my face, making the feminine curve of my jaw, cheekbones, and nose much less pronounced.

I debated putting my cover, hat, whatever on my head, but decided against it. With the cloak over me, it would just look strange. Well. Stranger.

After tugging Gandalf’s cloak around my person, I took a glimpse around the room, making sure I was leaving nothing behind. I then hauled my sack over my shoulders and made my way down the stairs.

I cast my eyes around the large room I was now in to find Gandalf standing at what I assumed to be the bar. He nodded at me and I walked slowly over to him. Save for a few drunks passed out and snoring at tables, the room was quiet and empty.

“My my. Is this the camouflage make-up you were speaking of?” Gandalf asked, peering closely at my face.

“Yeah. Do you think it will work?”

“It certainly is distracting. I doubt anyone will know what to make of you.”

“I’ll take that as a good thing.”

He chuckled softly motioned for us to head out the door. Once outside, he set a brisk pace.

“There is a farm just outside of Bree to the west that we will make a stop at. The man there breeds horses and he owes me a favor.”

“For what, if you don’t mind me asking.

“I introduced him to his wife.”

I laughed outright at that. It was a line I had not expected and Gandalf cast his twinkling eyes on me.

“Though, between you and I, I think it is I who owe him.” He said, conspiratorially. He chuckled heartily.

We walked out of Bree in relative silence, Gandalf pointing out this and that as we passed. I was still reeling from the events of the past few days, and still was not entirely sure I believed it. He paused a few times to ask if I was alright and, staying quiet, I merely nodded slowly.

The suns rays began to creep over the horizon and I was momentarily struck blind. As light crept over the hills, I was amazed at the beauty around me. Movies had nothing on the real thing. The colors were so bright, so intense. The sound of water rushing in the background was layered behind the chirp of the newly awakened birds.

“Its beautiful here,” I sad softly.

“It is.” Gandalf answered. “Though I fear darkness will destroy it.”

He had added the latter on in such a soft tone, I hardly thought he meant to say it at all. I wondered idly he was referencing, but decided to stay quiet on the subject. Not long after dawn, Gandalf led me to a small house tucked back off of the road we were on. There were rolling hills and pastures as far as the eye could see. Horses milled back and forth, grazing lazily upon the dew kissed grass. A man was out by what I guessed to be a barn, two young boys with him.

“Master Edmund Swain!” Gandalf called heartily. The man, Edmund, paused and turned around, a grin breaking out on his features.

“Well, now. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” He half walked, half jogged to us, the boys swift on his tale.

“How fare you on this early mornin’?” He asked once he reached us. He leaned on the fence in front of us and looked over at me curiously.

“Why is that man dressed so funny?” One of the boys asked. Edmund hushed them.

“Now, boys, don’t be rude” He softly swatted the back of the young boys head, the one who had spoken. “Sorry ‘bout that. Their mum would be furious if she ‘eard him speaking like that!”

“Ah, yes. And how is your sweet Winney?” Gandalf asked, brining attention back to himself.

“Good! Expecting another babe any day now.”

“Congratulations. Would that be the fourth, now?”

“The fifth, if you can believe it!”

“My, my. You have been busy!” Both men laughed heartily.

“So, Gandalf, what can I do for you?”

“Well, if you must know. I will be doing a bit of traveling with my companion here and I am need of two horses.”

Edmund nodded thoughtfully.

“I suppose you’d like the gelding back that you left here last time?” He asked. “Hes in good shape. Should do you well.”

“That would be excellent.”

“And for your uh… companion…” Edmund looked me over. “Are you sure that he wound not prefer a pony? I have a few, mostly to take the children around on, but I can most definitely spare one for an old friend.”

Gandalf looked at me in askance and I shook my head no. I had had too many bad experiences with ponys, from getting bitten to kicked. I’d take my chances with horses.

“Ah, no. A horse, if you please, Master Edmund.”

Edmund reached up and stroked the days- old stubble on his face. He looked down at the boys.

“Roddy, Theo, bring Draysill and Grey-mane out.” He turned to Gandalf and I. “Can I tempt you to with breakfast?”

“No, thank you. We are in a bit of a hurry this morning. Perhaps another time.”

“No need for thanks, old friend. For what you’ve done for the family, and you loaning us Draysill to help rebuild the barn… Well. No thanks are needed. I will leave it at that.” The man smiled up at Gandalf, and I had a feeling the wizard had done a bit more than just introduce the man to his wife.

It didn’t take long for the boys to bring out two horses, both with saddles and bridles already in place. One was a tall draft horse, a dark dark bay color with a off-centered white blaze down his nose. The other was a dappled grey horse, slightly smaller in size then the bay. It reminded me of a percheron I had ridden when I was younger, and I smiled to myself. The horses nickered and danced on their feet as they made their way to us. When the boys reached us, the reins to the large bay were handed off to Gandalf, and the reins to the dapple where passed off to Edmund.

“Grey-mane is a bit big, but hes a softie. Taught all me boys how to ride.” Edmund looked me over before handing me the reins. “May he serve you well.”

“I thank you.” I said, attempting to pitch my voice low. The farmer looked momentarily surprised, then nodded his head to me.

“A friend of Gandalf’s is a friend of ours. Perhaps if you two journey this way again, you will be able to stop for a spell.”

I nodded my thanks. I watched Gandalf mount up and looked over my new steed. The saddle was much different then the ones I had grown up riding. The stirrups were left longer, seat having a much wider horn that the western saddles of home, but a more swept back cantel. I used to be able to ground mount fairly well, but it had been a few years and I hesitated. Both men and both boys were looking at me expectantly.

I noticed straps that were on the back of the saddle and realized it must be where you could place your things. I took off my ruck first and tossed it lightly over the horses back and used the straps to secure it in place. I was thankful that I had repacked the bag. Add that to the fact that a few of the larger items were missing, and it was a much smaller load than it had been when I started out with my squad.

I eyed the stirrups and decided to save my pride.

I led the horse over to a large rock, stood up on it, and slipped my foot into the stirrup. With a rusty movement, I slung my leg over the other side and settled myself into the seat. One of the boys ran over and helped me adjust the stirrup length when I discovered they were about two inches too short.

“We will be off, now, Edmund. Thank you again,” Gandalf said after I was finally settled in my seat. We looked over at the boys and their father and I smiled warmly at them, hoping that my thanks was conveyed properly.

“May the road rise to meet you, my friend!” Edmund said by way of fairwell. Without further ado, he turned and led his boys back to the barn. Gandalf turned his horse and began walking down the road.

I tugged the reins, probably harder than I should have, and Grey-mane tossed his head and snorted. He flicked his ears back reproachfully and I pat his neck.

“Sorry, boy. I havent done this in awhile. I’ll try not to do anything too stupid if you try not to buck me off,” I said softly, feeling out of place again. It was ridiculous. I was a soldier in the United States Army. An American of the planet Earth. I did not belong here!

I gentle squeezed my legs and was pleased to find that the horse listened with little prompting. I was relieved I had not been stuck with some stubborn headed ass of a horse.

I caught up with Gandalf and pushed my hood back. It was much warmer here than it was back home and I was glad I had decided not to put on a second layer.

“He seemed like a nice guy,” I said, just to break the silence. Normally, I was at ease in most situations. I had a sarcastic sense of humor and managed to be cheery despite my surroundings. I did not like how I felt at the moment. So out of place, depressed, and tense. I was pretty sure my mount could feel it because he pranced and snorted every now and then. Dreysill, Gandalfs horse, looked at the dapple grey with what I could swear to be distaste.

“Edmund Swain is a fine fellow,” Gandalf allowed. “His wife has a temper, but she is a decent woman of good stock. The two boys you saw were his eldest. He has a girl a bit younger, and then another boy, now that I think of it. And apparently another on the way,”

He chuckled softly, no doubt remembering the hearty laugh he and Edmund had shared.

“Gandalf….I don’t think I should go with you to Bag End.” I said suddenly.

“Why ever not?”

“Because… I don’t want to screw anything up,” Gandalf opened to argue. “No, listen. It will be hard enough for you to convince Thorin that Bilbo is the burglar you need. If you show up with me and try to convince him that you need to bring yet another stranger, another non-dwarf, on the quest then I am afraid you will push him past his tolerance. If he refuses to bring me, fine. But if he refuses to bring Bilbo… Then everything crumbles. Besides…”

I hesitated a little.

“I need to be by myself. Just for a little while. I still…. This is all just too strange.”

We continued on the road in silence. Gandalf glanced up at the sky and stopped at a crossroads.

“I will reach Bag End a little past ten this morning. I will leave you in a clearing with the horses and our things. Then I will be meeting some of the dwarves on the road. Tomorrow, around mid-morning, I will meet you here with the company and, hopefully, Bilbo.”

“Alright. Okay. I can do that. Thank you.”

Gandalf nodded and turned towards the woods. We weren’t very far in when he stopped and dismounted. I followed suit and glanced around the small clearing. It was relatively open and you could see the road from where we stood. I looked at Gandalf cautiously.

“Isnt this a little too… exposed?”

He chuckled.

“This road is quiet, even by Shire standards. It may get a dozen occupants in seven days’ time. If you stay quiet, travelers will more than likely pass you by. You will be safe here. Crime in the Shire, or even Bree, is nearly unheard of.” He tugged a few items out of his pack and set about loosely tying Dreysill off to a sturdy young tree. I tugged the reins over Grey-mane’s head and followed suit, then tugged my pack off of his back and set it down, slightly out of the way.

When Gandalf began to gather twigs and sticks, I felt the color drain from my face as I flashed back to the night of the flood.

“Are you alright?” Gandalf paused, a bundle of wood in his arms.

“Yeah,” I replied breathlessly. Despite the warmth of the springtime weather, I felt cold. Determined to push my feelings aside, I began to pick up larger branches, breaking them over my knee. With each satisfying ‘crack’ of wood breaking, I felt the tight coil that had developed in my chest loosen.

Once we had enough fire wood, Gandalf set about building a small fire in the middle of the clearing. It seemed as thought I blinked and there was suddenly a fire started.

“How…” I stopped when Gandalf gave me a mysterious smile. “Wizard. Right.”

Gandalf tugged a bundle out of his pack and tossed it to me. I opened it and shook it out. It was a faded dark blue cloak.

“Becka gave it to me to give to you last night. She saw the how long the cloak you wore was, and thought you might appreciate something your size. It was hers, apparently, in her younger years.”

I thumbed over the soft fabric and smiled softly. Such random acts of kindness were nearly unheard of where I came from.

“I trust you have rations?” He asked as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

“Yes. I’ll be alright. Go ahead, Gandalf. I’ll be alright.”

“If you are sure, then. Keep an eye on the horses. Dreysill likes to steal food when you are not watching, so beware. He is particularly fond of sweets. He will not be here when you wake. I will have called to him before then.”

With that parting remark, he inclined his head in my direction and, without another word, turned and strode out of the clearing. I was not going to ask how he would call Dreysill to him. I was learning.

I watched him until he was out of sight, then turned to look at the two horses. Glancing around again, I picked my way back over to Grey-mane. I grabbed the ‘horn’ of the saddle in one hand and attempted to put my foot in the stirrup. I managed on my first try, but upon attempting to sift my weight onto that leg, I promptly slipped and fell on my face.

“Urf!” The noise was involuntary and embarrassing. “Fuck,”

Grey-mane shifted and Dreysill tossed his head in what I imagined to be amusement.

“Oh shut up,” I muttered darkly. I stood up and dusted myself off. I tugged off my ACU top, pulled my knife out of my pocket, and adjust my breast band.

It took me another half-dozen times before I managed to successfully ground-mount. I felt much more proud of myself then was really necessary, but I would take an success I could get. I did it a second time and felt like shouting. Grey-mane tossed his head and snorted as I dismounted.

“Ok. Sorry. Just one more time.” I grabbed the horn and with much more confidence, went to stick my foot in the stirrup again. Just as my foot touched the metal, Grey-mane stepped quickly to the side and snorted Again, I fell promptly on my face, re-splitting my lip.

“Damn you,” I snapped. I heard a short giggle and turned around to see a small family watching me from the road. I grinned sheepishly and turned away. I could feel myself blush crimson.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” I asked Grey-mane. He turned his big brown eyes on me innocently.

“Ugh,” I muttered darkly. I checked that the family had moved on before brushing myself off and tending to my now bleeding lip.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Thankfully, there had been no other travelers to make an ass of myself in front of. I pet the horses awhile, scratching their favorite places. I led them both at some point to a small brook and let them drink before sating my own thirst. I washed out and refilled my canteens. I nibbled on an MRE.

It wasn’t until dark fell that I started to feel restless. Every time I sat idle, my memories assaulted me. I could feel panic rising in my throat when I once again thought about never returning home. Tears, unbidden, rose to my eyes and I wiped them angrily away. I heard rustling and I snapped my head up, only to hear a shift of hooves. Suddenly, the large face of Grey-mane was thrust in front of me and I yelped, falling backward from the crouch I had been in. He tossed his head slightly and I looked to find that the lose knot that I had tied had come loose.

“Bastard,” I said, without feeling. He thrust his head into my hands as I sat back up and I rested my head on his muzzle. He rubbed his nose back in my face and I laughed softly.

“Alright. I get it. Solider on, right?” I pulled my head away and let out true laugh as I looked at the horses face. There was makeup smudged all over his muzzle

I reached into the pack that I had dragged closer to the fire and pulled out some of the baby wipes. As I went to wipe his face off, he sniffed and snorted.

“Stop being a baby,” I said with a laugh. After a few minutes of struggling, I had cleaned the makeup off his face.

I sucked it up. I put everything on the back burner and tried to enjoy the small reprieve I had. The day time birds fell silent to the hoots of owls, the bark of foxes, and the occasional snort or nicker from the horses near me. I pulled out an MRE and, after preparing it, ate it quietly. I yawned and set my dessert down for a moment, standing to add a few more logs to the fire. I turned around and found Dreysill with his muzzle buried in the dessert bag. He lifted his head and shook it off, blueberry cobbler stuck all over the hair on his face. I shook my head and laughed again.

After washing his face in the brook and once more sating my thirst, I made my way back to the fire and spread out the cloak Gandalf had given me on the ground. I dragged my pack next to that and lay down after tugging off my boots, using my ruck once more as a pillow. The cloak Becka had given me I used as a blanket. After starring at the cloudless sky and the millions of stars, I closed my eyes and slept.

I awoke to the sound of crickets chirping. I opened my eyes slowly and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of them. I realized, too late, that I still had make up on and groaned. I pushed the cloak off of me and, after tugging my boots back on, stood, stretching and finding that I was less sore than the day before. After checking on my horse, and noticing that Dreysill was indeed gone, I made my way to the brook and washed my face.

I ate the remnants of my MRE from the night before cold and washed it down with a ‘kool-aid’ like drink powder I had mixed in with my canteen. I wiped my mouth

The sounds of birds chirping greeted me and I paused to watch the sunrise. It was not often I had the luxury to do so and I had to admit it was beautiful. I thought about home and, now that I had distanced myself from the situation, decided that I had to make the best of this situation. I would do my duty to the best of my ability and if that meant helping these dwarves on their quest to reclaim their land, then so be it.

I knelt down and began to reapply my make-up with determination. I nodded slowly as I reviewed my work and threw Becka’s cloak over my shoulders, tying it quickly into place. Gandalf’s cloak was tucked back into my pack.

I covered the fire with dirt I had kicked up and, once I was sure it was out, I threw my pack over Grey-manes back and secured it in place once more. Steadying him, I ground-mounted successfully, though groaned as the muscles stretched. Apparently, while the rest of me was on the mend, my newly stretched muscles were protesting their use.

Knowing that it was still too early to meet Gandalf and co, I began to put Grey-mane through some paces. I walked, I trotted, and I cantered. I wasn’t quite up for a full gallop yet. My body was protesting as it was and I did not want to push it.

The sun had not yet reached its highest point when I heard voices and the sounds of hooves. I stopped Grey-mane and looked down the road. I tugged my hood up over my head and waited.

“Move on!” Was the first clear thing I heard. The voice was deep and held a graveled edge. My heart leapt in my throat as I waited. Grey-mane shifted under me.

It was not long before I could make out in clear detail the company that approached me.

In the lead was a tall (or, well , what I assumed would be tall for a dwarf) and imposing figure perched on a shaggy, bay pony. His hair was a black mane around his head, a few grey streaks standing out in sharp contrast. His beard was short and braided. A fur mantle was around his shoulders and, though well cared for, he wore worn armor and leathers, weapons strapped to his side. This could be none other then Thorin Oakenshield.

I took in the other dwarves, their persons resembling the actors more than I thought possible. I listed them off in my head and, when I came to the lone hobbit, I smiled to myself. He looked a little younger than Morgan Freeman had, which was understandable. As far as Hobbits go, he *was* young. But the fearful exhilaration written on his face was hard to miss.

As they road near, I noticed that Thorin leveled a dark glaze at me. He turned his head ever so slightly to watch me as he passed. The company turned to look at me in turn, a few offering a curt nod. Three younger looking ones, who I assumed to be Ori, Fili, and Kili, turned to watch me in fascination.

I wasn’t until Gandalf neared that I turned my attention to him. He smiled warmly and with sharp gesture, tossed something to me. I reached up and caught it, startled as it clinked.

“You’re share,” He said with mirth. I *had* told him to double the bet. I tried to hold back a grin.

The company stopped and turned to look. Thorin did not look pleased.

He jerked the head of his horse in our direction and he starred at me. He gave a good glare, I had to admit, his dark brown eyes holding more fire than I had anticipated. But I had gone through basic training. My drill sergeants had screamed in my face and put me through hell. I returned his gaze in the most non-threatening way possible.

“And, who, in Mahals’ name is this?!”

Chapter Text

Thorins’ voice was angry. His hand was on the hilt of an axe as he appraised me, his eye brows narrowing further the longer he looked at me. Gandalf rode a little closer and made a sweeping motion towards me with his hand.

“Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, this is Sar-gent Conner, a friend of mine.” Compared to Thorin’s lengthy and impressive introduction, mine was lacking. I was momentarily bummed that Gandalf could not think of anything more impressive to say about me, but then realized that he had called me his friend. Whether or not he meant it, it was a sweet thing to say.

Thorin raised a brow ever so slightly and inclined his head towards me.

“Master Dwarf,” I said, pitching my voice low and returning the gesture.

“What, may I ask, does a Man have to do with a company of dwarves?” He asked waspishly.

“Sar-gent Conner has uses, and I believe will be invaluable to this journey” Gandalf replied, rather vaguely. Thorin turned his attention to Gandalf.

“Such as your burglar?” He shook his head. “I allowed you to saddle us with a hobbit, of whom I doubt has his merits, despite your claims. I will not abide another stranger, particularly a man. They are just as untrustworthy as elves. The answer is no, Gandalf.”

With that parting shot, he whipped his horses head around as if that was the end of the conversation and trotted towards the front of the company. I looked at Gandalf, who was frowning at the dwarfs back. After the untrustworthy comment, I made a choice that I hoped I would later not regret. I wracked my brain a moment to try and get my head around the syntax and vernacular of this time.

I nudged Grey-mane into a trot and quickly caught of with Thorin.

“Thorin…” He jerked his head at me and stopped his pony. I pulled Grey-mane to a halt next to him.

“Who are you that you address me so casually?” He snapped. I cleared my throat.

“Master Oakenshield,” I corrected. His eyes narrowed and it seemed to occur to him that my voice was not as deep as it had been. I reached up and pushed back my hood. His eyes widened in surprise as he looked closer at the intricately painted pattern on my face.

“I am no man,” I stated simply.

“By Durins’ beard, it’s a woman?” I heard someone gasp from behind us. Thorins jaw worked under his beard.

“And you think that would change my answer? Our company will not have dealings with you, friend of Gandalf’s or no.”

“I did not believe it would change your answer, sir. I was telling you the truth about who I am. You assumed I was male and I could have let you keep that assumption. I could also let you go on your merry way and part with you here and now, but I could not, in good conscious allow for that to happen. Not when I can offer my help.”

Thorin regarded me silently for a moment.

“And how do you think, girl, that you could be of us to us?” He asked, emphasis put on girl. I grit my teeth at that. I knew he was stubborn and had his pride, but there was no reason to be rude.

“Now, look here, Sir Dwarf, I have been respectful to you and come to you offering my help. If you want to turn me down, that is fine. But you could at least do it with at least the smallest courtesy of addressing me in a more polite manner!”

His mouth snapped shut at that. I didn’t know what dealings he had in the past with women, but I imagine he did not expect the little tirade that left my mouth.

“Very well, Sir-gent Conner,” He said, his teeth clenched. As with Gandalf, he did not get the pronunciation quite right and I was too irritated to correct him. After all I had been through, I had no patience for it. “With all due respect, I would prefer not to have yet another complete stranger join our company. So, therefore, I *respectfully* decline you offer of assistance.”

The ’with all due respect’ part held so much sarcasm I was amazed he managed to keep a straight face. But not so much as a sneer graced his features, and I mentally applauded his sudden self control. Without waiting for an answer, he kicked his pony back into a walk and dismissed me. I clenched my jaw and looked at Gandalf. He was looking at me in askance, probably wondering why I had decided to reveal myself instead of remaining hidden. I shrugged my shoulders helplessly.

As the company passed me by yet again, I sighed heavily. Bilbo was the only one who offered a friendly, albeit confused, smile. Gandalf paused and I waved him on.

I waited a few moments before I started after them, keeping a dozen horse lengths between myself and them.

I caught many of the dwarves looking back at me, but I ignored the casual stares. After awhile, I could here soft conversation resume. Gandalf, after making sure that I was following, began to speak in soft tones to Bilbo.

I did not know how long we rode for. My attention span had been divided between studying the landscape and the dwarves. I took note of the way they rode and which weapons they carried. How they differed from their movie portrayals. One thing that surprise me was just how large they were. Okay, granted, they were short. But their builds were solid. Even Ori, who was rather slight in the movies, had broad shoulders and corded muscles.

By the time dusk had started to fall, Thorin had apparently grown tired of me trailing them. He called for his company to halt and break for camp, then rode back to me. He pulled up short and regarded me coldly.

“I believe I told you I did not want you apart of this company,” He said in a low tone.

“I am not apart of your company, Master Dwarf. I haven’t signed a contract, and I am not riding *with* you. I am merely riding in the same direction as you.” I answered evasively.

“And where, Miss Conner, are you riding to?”

“Where ever Gandalf goes.” I answered with a shrug. He narrowed his eyes and glared. It was something, I was finding out, he was very good at doing. His hand had moved to touch the hilt of his axe and I raised my hands.

“You would not hurt an innocent traveler who just happened to be following her only guide in this territory, would you?”

A mirthless laugh left his lips.

“Follow Gandalf at your peril, Lady Conner. I will not be held responsible for any misfortune that may fall upon you, nor will any of those in my company. You make camp on your own and you provide for yourself.”

He stressed the word ‘Lady’, obviously assuming that I was weak, whether due to my gender or my race, I was not sure.

With that he headed back towards camp and I shook my head. I was becoming far too used to the sight of that dwarf’s back already.

I childishly made a face at his back before heading a little father out. I dismounted and tugged off my bag as well as the saddle. I reached into my bag, grabbed my 550 cord after a moments search, and wrapped a noose around Grey-mane’s neck. I tied it -securely this time- to a fall tree. I didn’t really think it would keep him from running off if he set his mind to it, but it would act like a deterrent, at any rate. I then removed his bridle and pat this neck. He lipped at my arm once the bit was out of his mouth and promptly started to graze. I smiled, already fond of the big beast.

I laid out my cloak and bag again, then began the never ending task of gathering firewood. Once I had some decent kindling and an armful of starter wood, I walked back to where Grey-mane stood, not surprised to find Gandalf standing there. He was stroking his beard thoughtfully.

“That did not go quite as I had expected,” He said after a moment.

“Gee, you think?” I answered with a sarcastic laugh. “What did you think was going to happen? “‘Oh, gee, Thorin. I know how much you and your race distrust others, but here is this person who looks really weird. Let them join you on this sacred quest to regain your homeland.’ I said, purposefully making myself sound old Then I puffed up my chest as far as it would go and finished with as deep a voice as I could manage;

“’Oh, wise Gandalf. Of course I will take your council without question and I welcome this stranger I know nothing about into our company with open arms.’”

There was a moments pause where Gandalf frowned deeply.

“Well, Yes, actually.” He answered simply.

“…..Oh.”

He watched me after a moment before helping me start the fire. As with the night before, it appeared with little fuss the second I turned my attention from him.

“Why did you tell them you were a woman?” He asked after a moment.

“Because I am?” I asked, then shook my head. “He already has trust issues. If I let him believe I was a dude… er… a man… then I would be no better in his mind then any of the other ‘untrustworthy’ beings in the world.” I answered honestly. Gandalf thought this over.

“How is Bilbo holding up?” I asked.

“He may be a Baggins, but he is also a Took. Part of him is absolutely terrified, the other is exhilarated.”

It was funny, I had thought much the same earlier.

“He’ll come around,” I said softly. Gandalf nodded and brushed his hands off on his robe.

“Go on back to the dwarves. I’m just going to eat and turn in. Don’t let the sneak bastards try to leave without me.”

He chuckled softly at my words.

“Don’t let Thorin hear you say that, my dear. I fear he has already taken a disliking to you.”

“Was it that obvious?” I asked sarcastically under my breath. I watched the wizard walk back to camp before I plopped down. Using the baby wipes in my back, I began to carefully remove the makeup from my face. It was too much of a pain to keep fixing it, and every time I ate or drank, I could taste it. The dwarves knew I was a chick, now, anyways, so I guess it didn’t matter. I did fix my hair, though, more out of habit because I was still in uniform then anything.

I took some time to eat another half of one of my MREs. I was down to three now and with Thorin’s demand that I was to provide for myself, I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do once they ran out. I knew some edible plants from home, but with my luck, I’d eat an innocuous looking berry and end up with the shits or dead. Given my present company, I was not sure which out come I preferred.

Dark was almost completely on us now. I decided I would gather a bit more wood before turning in. I stood up and brushed the crumbs off my lap before heading off in a likely looking area for firewood.

I had a small armload of wood in my hand when I heard rustling ahead of me. I crouched down, gently set the wood down and reached into my pocket. With a flick of my wrist, I unsnapped my knife sheath and pulled the k-bar from my pocket. I waited behind a bush, peering between branches in the direction the noise was coming from.

Two dwarves came from the brush, each carrying their own stacks of wood. I relaxed some and stood up slowly. The two stopped short and starred, apparently not having expected me there. They cleared their throat. The taller one, who seemed even in the dark to have fairer hair, dropped his load of wood.

“Fili, at your service,” He smiled winningly bowing low. His darker haired brother immediately followed suit.

“And Kili,” He followed, bowing just a touch lower than Fili. I smiled. Their light hearted attitude had always made me laugh and I hoped that they would, at least, welcome me. If I could start with these two and work my way up, then maybe I could convince Thorin I would be worth keeping around.

“Talya Conner, at yours.” I said, doing a brief bow with an exaggerated flourish. The two grinned back at me, their eyes roaming over my face and, occasionally, dropping a bit lower. Now that my face was clean, I was sure they were curious as to what I looked like. I wasn’t sure how good their eye sight was in such dim light, so I didn’t put their blatant stares against them.

“Tall-ya? I mean no offense, lady, but what happened to the Sir-gent bit?” Kili asked, curious.

“Its… just a title. Nothing of any real meaning.”

“What sort of title, m’lady?” Fili asked, leaning down to re-gather the wood that they had hastily dropped to make introductions. I frowned, not really sure how to answer it without sounding evasive.

“Where I am from, I am a part of the military.” They looked at me in confusion. “Ah, an army. Sergeant is just a title. A rank. And its Talya. ‘My lady’ makes me sound old and… Well, a lot more proper than I actually am.”

They looked at each other. I had no doubt that they were dubious of my statement of me being in any sort of army.

“Well, Tayla it is, then,” Fili said brightly. He cleared his throat a little, at a loss for what to say.

“Well…. Uh, sorry about our Uncle. He is a bit distrustful and blunt, but hes a good a dwarf as any I’ve ever met.” Kili said suddenly. “If Gandalf trusts you, you can’t be too bad, even for one of the race of Men.”

Kili seemed to realize that this was a bit of a back handed compliment and he stammered for a moment. I laughed a little.

“Its alright, Ki…. Master Kili. I can understand your uncle’s attitude. He doesn’t know me from a hole in the ground.”

“Fili, Kili. What in the blazes is taking you lads so long?” A sudden shout broke through the relative quiet of the evening. The two dwarves exchanged a look and re-situated their loads.

“Well, that’d be Dwalin bellowing.” Fili said. “Good night, Lady Conner.”

They inclined their heads to me and turned back towards their camp. I watched them a moment longer, then picked up my wood and headed back to my own space.

After tugging off my jacket and untwisting my hair, I set out my things for sleep and lay down, once again staring up at the nights’ sky. I could hear the dwarves talking and moving around, every once and awhile, laughing raucously. I felt terribly alone right then. At least at home in the army, I always had a battle, or a partner, with me, at the very least.

I glanced over at the dwarves’ shadows and noticed Bilbos’ lone figure off to the side of the camp. With a guilty sigh, I realized he probably felt just like I did. Alone and seriously out of place.

I stayed awake long into the night. When Gandalf had, at one point, come to check on me, I pretended to be asleep just so I could avoid talking. Long after the company had fallen silent and the wood began to burn low, I finally closed my eyes and slept.

I woke up drenched in sweat with the memories of the flood in my mind. I let out a few shaky breaths and took in my surroundings. It was early. Very early. The moon, which had started off fairly low in the horizon, was at the opposite end of the sky now. The soft thrum of crickets had not yet faded, and birds had not yet started to stir.

I knew I should try to get more sleep while I could, but after a few moments of lying back down with my eyes closed, I knew it was useless. I sat up and slowly set about pulling my hair back up. I tugged my jacket on and pulled my cloak around me, feeling a chill in the early spring air. I took a swig out of the canteen that was hanging off of my sack and stood.

I crouched down near the fire and began to poke at it, adding what was left of the bits of wood I had gathered later in the evening. Once I had coaxed a small flame to life, I stood again and stretched. I picked up the remnants of my meal last night and once again ate it cold.

After eating and drinking my fill, I headed a short way off to relieve myself. Once I was done with the call of nature, I headed back towards my camp. Feeling eyes on me, I paused and glanced up. I saw the shape of a dwarf on the outskirts of their camp and, in dim light of the moon, I could barely make out the features of Thorin. I hesitated for a brief moment before turning away and going back about my business.

It wasn’t long before the dwarves were up. They, too, ate their breakfast and packed up their camp. Everyone remounted shortly before dawn, and we all began to pick our way through the wilderness.

The next few days passed much the same. I stayed off to myself, riding behind the company a decent distance. Gandalf made an effort to talk with me, and even Bilbo had offered a few words of greeting and pleasantries, much to the obvious distaste of a few of the older dwarves. Each night, I made my camp in the not too far distance, and each morning I gathered my things and headed out with them.

One the morning of the fifth, day, however, things changed. We all broke camp and headed out as usual, but that is where things changed. I heard Thorin speak, though with the distance I was behind them, could not make out the words. I saw him glance at me, though, and I wondered what was going on.

It didn’t take me long to figure it out. After walking a fair pace, the company broke out into a trot, then straight into a gallop.

“Alright, Grey-mane. Lets go,” I said. It took me a moment to get him to comply, but soon we were headed off at a light gallop. With the horses legs longer than the ponies, it didn’t take much for me to catch up with them, despite the small head start they had. After riding for days, my legs were sore and the constant bouncing was not helping matters. I was glad, at least, that my girl’s were bound up. Having them bounce all over the place would have made the experience that much more frustrating.

The dwarves pushed their ponies faster and I realized something that had not occurred to me before. Grey-mane, even with his long legs, was a horse that Edmund had let his kids ride around on. He was not used to such a grueling pace and it was obvious all too soon that he was tiring. Even Dreysill, Gandalfs’ horse, was holding up better, despite being a draft horse. His strong muscles were used to the workout. The dwarves ponies were short and stocky and while they did not move terribly fast compared to the full out stride of a horse, their stamina was impressive. Sweat had barely begun to break out on their sturdy little bodies long after Grey-mans speed began to flag.

We began to fall behind further and further. Gandalf turned to back to us and slowed to a trot as he broke even with us. I let Grey-mane slow to a walk.

“Go on Gandalf,” I said, winded. Anyone who thought horse-back riding was not exercise was seriously mistaken. I was out of breath and I could already feel the burn in my thighs.

“Nonsense. I will stay behind with you. I do not know haste has suddenly been thrust upon Thorin, but no doubt he will slow soon.”

“I’m pretty sure I know,” I said, leaning over slightly and exhaling loudly. “He’s being a jerk and trying to push me. He doesn’t like that Im still following, so he figures if he makes me uncomfortable and makes things difficult, I’ll just leave.”

“You sound like you know this from experience.” Gandalf said thoughtfully.

“I do. I was in the army. Our uh… leaders did this all the time. They tried to push us to our breaking point. So go, Gandalf. I’ll catch up. I’m not a tracker, but even a blind man could follow the trail they are making.”

He watched me through slitted eyes and nodded a few times, as if deciding something. He turned Dreysill around and quickly urged the horse into a gallop.

I was sweating my ass off, as was poor Grey-mane. I grit my teeth as I watched Gandalf ride off towards the rapidly disappearing company. Even Bilbo was fairing better then me, it seemed, with his sturdy little pony, since I did not see him lag behind once.

“That jerk. We’ll show him, right Grey-mane?” I dropped the reins momentarily and readjusted my things. . I shifted and repositioned myself in the saddle before urging Grey-mane into a walk. Once I was sure he had recovered his wind, we broke out into a canter. It may not be as fast as a gallop, but at least Grey-mane wouldn’t tire as quickly.

We caught up with the dwarves before they made camp and I saw Thorin turn back to glare. Fili and Kili tried to hide their smirks, while the rest, save for Balin, who offered a small smile, seemed less then impressed. Bilbo and Gandalf both smiled heartily upon my arrival and I smiled back, trying not to appear as tired as I was.

Once we broke camp, thankfully near a stream, I tugged off Grey-mane’s tack and allowed him free rein. He promptly stepped into the river and stood, spread legged, as he gulped and blew at the water. I joined him and, out of sight of the dwarves, washed what I could easily reach quickly. I refilled my canteens which had began to run perilously low, and set about scavenging. I had spread my meals as thin as I could, but I had finished the last one that morning, save for a packet of crackers and some peanut butter.

“Those are edible,” I heard a soft voice behind me as I looked critically at a berry bush. I turned to find Bilbo standing behind me. “They are a little bitter now, since they are not quite right, but they make a decent jam.”

“Oh. Thank you.” I said, not really sure what else to say. I popped one in my mouth to find that they were indeed bitter, but tolerable. I set about gathering some in my cover I had pulled out of my ruck and after a moment, Bilbo joined me.

“Are you alright on food?” He asked after a minute. Not wanting to admit that my rations were low, I forced a smile.

“Yes. I just get tired of eating the same thing all the time.” I answered. He nodded.

“Understandable. We hobbits generally eat six or seven meals a day. Fruits, vegetables. Pork. Beef. Chicken. Sweet pies and pastires. Finely aged cheese….” He sighed wistfully. “ However all the dwarves seem to know how to make in the wild is stews, salted pork, and dried meats and cheese.”

I smiled and continued to pick until my cover was full. Bilbo spoke up suddenly.

“Those mushrooms there you can eat too. Very good served up hot with melted butter. Don’t eat the ones with the black tips, though. They’ll make you right sick. And there,” He pointed at a small green shoot with very particular shaped leave “Is a wild carrot. Starchy, but not bad. The ones with the light green leaves tend to be a bit sweeter.”

“Why are you helping me?” I asked, pausing to look at him curiously. “No doubt it will make sir Oakenshield pissy. Uh. Upset.” I amended.

“Because… You seem to feel just as out of place as I do. Only difference is… Well… Im a part of the company, whether they really like it or not. You are not. But still, you follow behind. You offered your help. And that… that deserves some sort of recognition.” He shrugged and fell silent, seeming to have surprised himself with the words. He wasn’t the only one. My chest was a little tighter than I cared to admit.

“Thank you, Master Baggins.” He smiled at me brightly, and we continued on for awhile, him pointing out different edible objects. By the time night had truly fallen, I had myself a veritable buffet of wild food.

The next day was the same. Thorin broke the company out into a fast gallop shortly after we set out, and again we lagged behind. We managed to catch up just before dusk.

The third day, we managed to catch up as camp was being set.

The fourth day, it was well into night when Grey-mane and I trudged into camp. The dwarves had been laughing and eating merrily when one by one they fell silent. I was in a foul mood and did not bother to look at any of them as we passed by them. I was exhausted and beyond sore. The food I had gathered was gone and to top it all off, my stomach was in agony from the straight fruit and veggie based organic diet. My digestive system was revolting, and I had found myself stopping frequently on our ride to relieve the burning pain in my gut.

That night, I did not bother to set up camp. I tugged Grey-manes’ gear off and promptly plopped myself on the ground where I quickly succumbed to exhaustion.

Chapter Text

I woke up and groaned. My whole body was on fire. I rolled over and slowly opened my eyes to find Gandalf approaching me in the rapidly approaching dawn.

“Are you quite alright, my dear?” He asked once he was close enough.

“Fuckin’ peachy,” I grumbled. I sat up and there was not a single muscle in my body that did not protest the movement.

“Here,” He said, holding a small parcel out to me. “Eat quickly. I am sure Thorin is intent on setting out soon.”

I opened the cloth and found a small bunch of rolls, jerky, and cheese. I nodded my thanks to Gandalf.

“I am sure Thorin can be reasoned with, Talya. If I speak to him, I am sure I can convince him that it is pointless to continue at this pace.”

“No, Gandalf. Don’t bother. If he wants to play this game, then I will play, too. I won’t be beaten down by a stubborn asshole.”

He hesitated as I bit off a rather large chunk of bread. I pulled over one of the two canteens I had managed to fill the morning before and took a large swig of it.

“If you are sure…”

“I’m sure Gandalf. If you couldn’t council him and he obviously can’t be talked to, then I will have to show him that I wont shake off so easily. He wont respect me even a little if I show weakness or let anyone speak for me. We are still in relatively flat country. I‘ll catch up no matter how far behind I get.”

“Alright, then.” He answered softly. He turned and headed back to where Dreysill stood.

I glanced towards Grey-mane who was still half asleep himself.

“You dead, yet, Grey-mane?” I asked. He picked his head up and tossed it up and down. “Yeah, me too…”

I finished eating and stood, re-wrapping the little bit of food I had left. It felt good to have something other than fruit or veggies in my stomach.

I mounted up along with the rest of the company, and once again, I found myself falling further and further behind. I walked into camp, leading Grey-mane behind me, my thighs raw and sore, well after their evening meal was complete. Dwalin and Balin were standing watch as the others settled into sleep. Bilbo and Gandalf both leveled me with pitying gazes and I grit my teeth. As with the night before, I did not bother to set camp. I merely plopped down in the first likely looking spot and passed out cold.

Birds were chirping and something soft was nuzzling my face. I slowly woke and opened my eyes to find sunlight peeing through the trees and Grey-mane’s face inches from my own. I sat up quickly, startling the poor horse, as I looked around. The company had already set off for the day.

“Dammit!” I cursed loudly. “Fuck. This can’t be happening.” I smacked my hands into my face and growled angrily. “We can’t give up, dammit.”

I scrambled to stand up, ignoring my screaming muscles and the sudden angry tears that were streaking down my face, and quickly threw my pack over my horses back. A small, tightly wrapped parcel fell down as I did so and I hesitated, leaning over to pick it up. Inside was a similar fare to the day before with the ration doubled. Meats, cheese, and hard rolls. It was all stacked neatly and I smiled, touched suddenly. It had to have been Bilbo. I tucked the food into my pack and mounted.

“Come on, Grey-mane. We’ll catch up or die trying.” He let out a long, loud breath and we set off in the direction the dwarves had headed.

Something must have broken in us, Grey-mane and I, because that day we rode hard. A renewed determination, so to speak, was born within us. Just as the dwarves were breaking camp, we picked our way through the brush and, with heads held high, walked straight passed the would-be dwarven king. He stopped peeling the apple he had been holding and watched us pass, a startled look of shock written on his face.

As I passed, I heard a few raised voices.

“Dori, Gloin. Come on. Pay up.” Balin, I think, yelled. I heard a snort, followed by the clink of coins and I turned my head to watch little bags soar through the air. Balin, Bofur, Nori, Kili, and Fili all caught their own flying bags. My heart lightened a little.

I dismounted and tugged off Grey-manes tack after pulling off my gear. The horse immediately flopped down on the ground and began to roll. I sat down a moment on an old stump and began to wash my face with a baby wipe. I tugged my hair out of the bun and combed my fingers through it. After putting it back up, I started to reach into my bag when I heard movement behind me.

There stood Balin. His white hair framed his face, which was currently set into a wry smile. He chuckled merrily after a moment and motioned me over to him. I stood up and walked to him and was immediately patted heartily on the back. The resulting blows nearly knocked the wind out of me.

“Balin, at your service,” He said with a slight bow. “ I’ve got to hand it to you, lass. You are made of sterner stuff then what we thought.” He began to lead me towards their camp.

“I think you deserve a bit of a hot meal,” He said, then laughed “My purse, at least, is a bit heavier then it was, and for that I thank you.”

I smiled slowly and nodded my head.

“Well, then, I’m glad your faith in me was not wasted,” I answered after a moment.

“Hear, hear!” He replied. As we started closer to the camp, I began to make out the hustle and bustle of the group.

“… haven’t ridden like that in a long while.” Came a voice.

“Ai, Gloin! My balls feel like they are about… to… ahem…” The voice of Kili died off as their attention was drawn towards Balin and I. Kili blushed crimson and avoided my eyes once he realized what he had just said. Fili laughed heartily and clasped him on the back.

Balin shot Kili a stern look.

“Let me introduce you to our company.,” He began to gesture to each dwarf, who then bowed their heads at me. “Dwalin, Gloin, Oin, Bombur, Bifur, Bofur, Dori, Ori, Nori, Fili, and Kili. Thorin, who of course you have met, is around here somewhere…”

“Come, sit, lass,” Said Nori with a laugh.

“Aye, you’ve earned a bit of a hot meal after putting up with all that,” Bofur said, raising a roll in mock salute to me.

“I think we all have,” Muttered Bombur as he stirred a pot with a large ladle. He glanced up at me appraisingly.

“Aye, aye. We all deserve a bit of a rest and a bit of hot food. Though, but the looks of you lass, you could use a bit more feed’in up then the rest of us,” Nori said, nodding his head dramatically at Bombur. That earned him a thwack on the head with the ladle that Bombur welded and the rest laughed heartily.

Balin led me to an open spot next to him and Bilbo, with Fili and Kili next to Balin, and Gandalf next to Bilbo. Gandalf smiled warmly at me, not without pride.

I sat down on the log and looked around sheepishly. While Balin, Bofur, Nori, Kili, Fili, Bilbo, and Gandalf were all turned towards me with varying smiles on their faces, the rest were much more restrained. Except Bombur. I don’t think much could tear his attention away from food. Thorin was nowhere to be seen.

“You ride well. Not that I have had much with womenfolk such as yourself,” Bofur said after a pause, “But you seem to be a different sort then most.”

“Well,” I started. It was a little unnerving that I was suddenly the center of attention, for the most part, when I had been all but ignored before. “I suppose that’s cause I am different. You could say I’m not really from around here.”

“Where are you from, lassie?” Balin asked, taking a hot bowl of soup that Bombur and Ori had begun to pass around. A bowl was thrust gently into my hands by Ori, who smiled shyly at me, before moving on to hand off another bowl to Bilbo. I hesitated and flicked my eyes to Gandalf, who regarded my calmly.

“It’s a long way away. Further than any of you could imagine. A place called the ‘States.” I answered after a pause. I took a sip of soup. It was hot but tasted quite good, particularly after my diet the passed few days.

“Never heard of such a place,” Dwalin said from across the fire.

“Neither have I,” Gloin said through a mouthful of bread. He coughed hard and Dori pounded him on the back.

I shrugged in answer and sipped my soup. It was quite for a little while, the sound of slurping, chewing, and rustling cloth accompanying our meal. I looked around me and studied the dwarves, fascinated now that I was close to them.

Bofur let out a sudden and loud belch that broke the silence.

Ori elbowed him and muttered something about ladies being present. I narrowed my eyes a little and scrunched up my nose. I didn’t want them treating me like some proper little lady who couldn’t handle a little belching. I cleared my throat a little, inhailed a bit of air, and let out my own belch. It was nothing compared to Bofur’s, but it was decent. Bilbo choked on a mouthful of soup next to me, and Gandalf coughed back what sounded like a laugh. There was dead silence for a beat.

“uh… Excuse me?” I said. Loud laughter broke out. Kili and Fili slapped their knees, Balin about spat out a mouthful of whatever it was he had been drinking, and even Dwalin, who seemed to be the most restrained of the group, let out a hearty bark of a laugh.

“Is this what you mean when you said not to call you my lady?” Fili asked, wiping away moisture from his eyes.

“Partially,” I answered “I can belch like a man, swear like a sailor, and I’ve even been known to crack a dirty joke or two.”

This brought on another round of laughter and suddenly everything was much more lively. Idle chat returned and their conversations were interrupted here and there with belches and one long, low fart that Bombur let rip when he bent over. Bifur was in the immediate vicinity when this happened, and he yelled something loudly, and brokenly, in dwarvish before waving his now empty bowl in front of his face. Bombur felt the bottom of his pants, and turned to glare at Bifur, answering him back in dwarvish and waving his ladle threateningly.

I about died there. While I did not understand a word that had just been said, I am pretty sure Bombur’s panicked patting of his ass was the universal sign for ‘did I really just shit myself?’ I was laughing so hard I was nearly in tears, which made everyone else laugh that much harder.

I leaned back let out a long breath, chuckling still. I watched Kili stand up and, awkwardly, step over the log he had been sitting on. I watched him shift uncomfortably and snickered.

“How are your balls holding up, Master Kili?” I asked suddenly. He stopped dead and looked at me. We stared at each other for a long beat.

“Just fine. Did you want to check them yourself?” He shot back. I grinned.

“I don’t think there’d be enough light to find them by..” His jaw dropped a bit and his brother fell over his log, practically crying in laughter. The dwarves howled now, good naturedly offering their services to help look for Kilis’ apparently lost dignity.

The night wore on much like that. The dwarves ate, told stories and jokes. Most of them made an effort to include me, which made me happy. I ate my fill and after awhile, sat back and simply watched the group interact.

“Well, my dear, it certainly seems that you have won over some of them, at least,” Gandalf said to my left. I looked over at him and nodded slowly.

“Some dirty jokes and a few belches isn’t going to be what wins me a place in this company, Gandalf. I highly doubt Thorin will be pleased to find me here.”

He fell silent with that, the smile he had had on his face fading some. Bilbo, who had been helping a few of the dwarves clean up the bowls, came over to us and plopped down merrily.

“I haven’t laughed that hard in ages. I think you stunned poor Kili,” He said, looking between Gandalf and I.

“It is true. I do not believe in all the years that I have known the lad, that I have ever heard him rendered speechless.” Gandalf allowed. I smiled despite the serious mood that had suddenly descended between us. The three of us shared a soft laugh, which soon died down when Thorin Oakenshield strode back into the midst of the company. Everyone fell silent.

“I will be taking first watch. I suggest the rest of you get some rest,” He said, looking over us. His eyes fell on me. I met his level gaze with one of my own and, after a moment, excused myself. The mood now somber, everyone split up and began to set out their things for bed. I started to move away from the company when Thorin cleared his throat.

“Lady Conner… I would suggest you stay close. Wolves are about.” He said simply, turning to walk the other way.

That night I found I could hardly sleep, despite the fact that I was sore beyond belief and tired. I had made a small victory tonight. I had carved a very small hand hold in the company and while I doubt I would be accepted with open arms any time soon, at least I hoped they were willing to allow me to travel *with* them now, since we were headed in the same direction. I had no doubts that they would leave me behind in a heart beat, should they be given the chance. While the soft snores and snorts of those around me were comforting, I could not sleep.

I sat up and gathered my cloak around my shoulders. The fire had died low and I looked around for Thorin, who I knew was still awake, leaning against a tree and watching the forest around us. I stood up and picked my way over to him. While he did look in my direction, he made no motion to move, or to stop me. I plopped down on the ground next to him and we sat in silence for awhile.

“Why do you insist on following us, Miss Conner?” He asked turning his head ever so slightly to regard me.

“I told you. I am going where Gandalf goes,” I answered There was a few beats of silence.

“It is not safe for a woman to be riding out into the wild,”

“Is it not true that dwarves allow their females to fight?” I asked by way of answer. He narrowed his eyes and looked back out into the forest.

“Aye, when the time calls for it. What does that have to do with you?”

“I offered my help, Master Oakenshield. Please believe me when I say the time calls for it. I can’t explain it to you, not fully, but I feel like you will need my help.”

“Can you wield a sword? An axe? Can you defend yourself against orcs and goblins? Would you risk your life to save the life of one of my companions? Please, enlighten me, Miss Conner, how you could possibly be of help.”

I swallowed and let out a sharp breath. “No. Truth is, I cant fight with a sword, and I cant fight with an axe. I can use a bow, though. I’ve been hunting with one since I was a child. I can tend the ponies. I can hunt. I can help stand watch, to make and break camp. And while you may not believe it, Master Oakenshield,” I looked at him, “I would gladly lie down my life to save you or any other members of this company.”

He turned to look at me fully and our eyes met. He looked so very weary in that moment that I felt sorry for his lot in life, and not for the first time.

“Why?” “Duty,” I answered truthfully. “Where I am from, I am a member of a team. Duty is everything. One life means very little in the grand scheme of things, and if I died saving you and yours, then it would be an honor.”

We both looked back out into the forest.

“Go to sleep, Miss Conner. Tomorrow, we will let the ponies rest, and we will hunt,” He said after awhile, his voice very soft. I took this as a dismissal. I stood up and started to walk away, then paused. I turned my head slightly to regard the weary dwarf before me.

“Talya,” I said suddenly. He turned his head ever so slightly. “Call me Talya,”

After a beat, he nodded his head ever so slightly.

Chapter Text

The next day, Thorin had decided that we had traveled far enough and we were to let the ponies rest and there was to be a hunt. Everyone seemed to be relieved when they heard this news. Apparently, I was not the only one who was a little tired after the grueling stint of horse back riding.

I had woken to the smell of breakfast and my stomach rumbled loudly. After last nights filling soup, I suppose my body had decided that it had about enough of raw fruits, veggies, and MRE’s. Whatever Bombur was cooking smelled heavenly.

I found out that most of the dwarves were really, truly, NOT morning people as they grumbled at each other and yawned. What I also found out was that they had quickly forgotten my presence. Bofur had stood up and, apparently having gone to bed sans trousers, walked past nearly stark naked, only what looked like some sort of loin cloth covering his goods. I let out a loud whistle. And he jerked his head back at me, looked down, and grinned sheepishly. Making the best of the moment, he posed a little before heading back to his sleeping roll and tugging on his trousers.

“Thank Mahal that someone here has the ability to make him put his damned pants back on,” Dori muttered. He nodded his head towards me by way of good morning.

Once breakfast was ready, we ate in relative silence. Compared to last night, it was down right somber. I wasn’t sure if they just were really this miserable first thing in the morning, or if they were just that tired from the last few days. I supposed, now that I thought of it, dwarves were not really supposed to be good horse-men. Er. Horse-dwarves? Im sure they rode them out of pure necessity, but I doubted it was something they really made the habit of doing. If that was the case, no wonder they were just about as tired and as sore as me.

Once breakfast was done and I had helped clean the bowls we had used, Kili and Fili approached me. Kili’s bow was over his shoulder, his quiver hanging loosely in one hand.

“Thorin told me to see what you could do with a bow,” Kili said by way of explanation.

“And I am just here to see if you can make fun of his balls some more,” Fili said brightly, grinning at his brother. Kili made as if to punch him and glared.

“Jealous, Master Fili? I suppose we could talk about yours, but I doubt there’d be much of a discussion.” I matched his grin. Kili guffawed loudly and now it was his turn to clap his brother on the shoulder while Fili stood in shock. Kili started to walk off, his head down in laughter.

“Come on, then.” I said over my shoulder, following behind Fili. He quickly recovered and followed us.

A short ways away, we stopped and the boys began to stamp down some of the long grass. Fili grabbed a large hunk of bark and set it up against a tree about ten yards away.

“That will be our target to start,” Kili stated softly, becoming serious. Fili jogged back to us, and Kili handed me his bow.

It was a beautiful thing, his bow. It was a very large and heavy re-curve, carved handsomely and well tended. I ran my hands over it tenderly, realizing how much care he put into it. I looked it over and decided it wasn’t too much different from my bow at home… except for the grip.

Kili pulled a few arrows, ones that had blunted tips, obviously for practice, not for real fighting, and stuck them in the ground in front of me. I let out a breath and stretched a little.

I tugged an arrow out of the ground and knocked the arrow to the left of the bow. I began to pull back when Kili stopped me.

“What are you doing?” He asked. I slowly stopped and looked at him questioningly.

“Why do you have the arrow on that side…? In a fight, its too time consuming and you tend to aim with just one eyes, instead of two.”

“Oh,” Was all I said, feeling stupid.

“Well, never mind. Go ahead and shoot how you are comfortable, and we can go from there,” He said with a smile. I nodded, my confidence already waning.

I pulled back the bow again with some difficulty. It was definitely a heavier weight then my own bow at home and I assumed it had to be to be able to pierce armor and whatever.

Once the bow was fully drawn, I held my position for a few moments, steadying my breathing. I let the arrow fly and watched it soar way to the left of the target. I cursed softly. I picked up another arrow, knocked, drew back, and let loose. It clipped the edge. Another arrow. Knock. Draw. Loose. This time the arrow hit. Not dead center, but at least closer to the middle. At home, I had taken deer at 30 yards. Here, I could barely hit a target that was taller and wider then Bombur.

“You seem fairly familiar with a bow,” Kili allowed. I nodded.

“Its quite a bit different then the one I shot with at home,” I answered. “Mine was meant strictly for hunting deer and stuff. It wasn’t as heavy as this.”

“Dwarf bows are heavy. They are meant to pierce armor from a long range. If the situation called for it, I could take down a fully armored orc at 80 yards.”

I had to admit, that was impressive. At my best, I could hit a bullseye at forty yards with a few tries. I knocked another arrow and pulled back.

“Try again,” Kili said. “Relax your grip here. Spread your fingers a little. Move the fletch down your check bone a hair. There. Now loose when you are ready.”

I breathed out again and steadied myself. I sighted down the target, waited, then let the arrow fly. It sunk dead center and I felt like cheering.

“Good!” I heard a few slow claps and turned around, mortified that Balin, Nori, Ori, Dori, Bifur and Bilbo had gathered behind to watch.

“Not bad,” Dory said “For a lass,”

“Oh never mind him. Hes just miffed that he could never get the ‘ang of a bow.” Nori said with a good natured pat on Dori’s shoulder. Dori glared at him and casually elbowed him in the gut.

“Leave off,” Fili said. “Didn’t Thorin want us to do a bit of hunting and gathering?”

Fili had crossed his arms and looked at the others with hard eyes. Suddenly, he looked very much like Thorin, despite his blonde hair.

“You’re right, lad. Come on now,” Balin said, giving me a friendly smile. The others turned and left, Fili falling in behind them. I handed Kili his bow back and we both walked down to the target to tug free the arrows. He held on to them rather then replacing them in his quiver.

“I suppose I ought to go look for some game,” he said. “Bombur will be right pissed if I didn’t come back with some fresh meat for tonight.”

“Hey…uh… Master…” I started. Kili shook his head.

“Thorin might hold to such titles and formalities, Miss, but you can call Fili and I by just our names. I promise we won’t mind.”

“Well, Kili, then. I must insist you call me Talya, then. I told you, none of this ma’am, miss, or my lady crap.”

“As you wish, Talya. Now, what were you going to say?”

“Would you mind if I came hunting with you? Its been awhile since I’ve been on a hunt, and even if I don’t shoot anything, I can help you carry your quarry back.”

“Well, I wont say no to the company, that’s for sure, specially with a pretty face like yours,” He gave me a cheeky smile and I laughed.

“None of that. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. I just want to make myself useful.” He nodded his head.

“Right, then. We’ll keep our little love affair secret then.” I swatted at him then, and he just laughed it off.

We headed closer to the group and Kili called out, telling them he was heading out hunting. Oin peeled away from the group and joined us, looking at me, then at Kili questioningly. Kili shrugged, and Oin let the matter drop.

Without much preparation, we headed off deeper into the woods. I followed behind Kili and Oin, trying to move as smoothly through the brush as they were. It took us a good deal of hiking before Kili came to a stop and hushed us, crouching down. Oin and I followed suit. Before us, maybe forty or fifty yards out, was a small herd of deer. Six doe were milling around, nosing aside leaves to munch on the soft green shoots that were growing up from the nutrient rich ground. Every once and awhile, one would lift its head, peer around and snort.

Kili tugged an arrow out of his quiver and, with a smoother motion than I could ever hope to accomplish, knocked it and let it fly. It struck a large, dark brown doe just behind the shoulder blades. She bleated belatedly and tried to take a step before falling. She twitched once or twice before she was still. The rest of the herd shot their heads up and took off. Before I had even realized he had let another arrow fly, a second, smaller doe was down and bleeding.

Kili stood and tucked his bow back on his shoulder before motioning us on. Oin and I stood and the larger dwarf brushed passed me towards the kills.

Kili made it to the first of the two does and carefully cut out his arrow, trying to avoid damaging the tip. Oin reached the second and, with a challenging glance at me, stuck his knife into the doe’s stomach and began to gut her.

Frowning, I knelt down next to the second doe as I pulled my k-bar out of my pants pocket. I patted her side and made a small gesture of thanks. Then, upon spreading its legs and attempting to start gutting it, I found out that it was actually a young buck. I shrugged and grabbed a handful of skin and fur and set about carefully making a slit from just above the bottom of the sternum, around the small bucks’ genitalia, and to the anus.

Oin watched me with surprise on his face while Kili regarded me quietly. Oin snorted, then reached into his doe and began to pull out the internal organs, not being too careful to limit the amount of blood he was flinging around. I ignored him and set about cutting back the bucks’ bits to better reach the viscera.

Kili left us to it, and began to wander the area, looking for more game.

At one point, I felt a warm spray of blood on my face. I looked up to find Oin shaking off his blood coated hand. He looked at me innocently and I narrowed my eyes.

“Sorry, there lass,” He said, obviously not sorry at all. I watched him kneel down, sift through the organs and cut away a meaty mass that appeared to be the liver. He brought it up to his mouth and took a bite of it, his eyes not leaving mine. If he was trying to gross me out, he was failing, miserably.

I went back to what I had been doing and, once I had cut around the deers’ anus and cleaned out the internal organs, I set about delicately cutting away the deer’s genitalia. I held it in my hand momentarily, pausing to apologize to the deer for what I was about to do, before hefting it into the air and chucking it at Oin, whos back was now turned, and nailing him in the back of the head.

He turned around in shock, then looked down at the offending items. He glanced down at it, then at me. We starred at each other a long moment before we both burst out laughing. Kili must have heard us laughing idiotically and emerged from the woods carrying two rabbits and a pheasant.

“What in Mahal’s name is so funny?”

Oin and I exchanged glances and erupted into laughter again, shaking our heads.

We finished field dressing the animals, including the rabbits and pheasant, then tied rope that Kili tugged out of his pocket around their hocks. Despite my protests that I could, indeed, haul one of the deer back on my own, Kili and Oin assured me that neither one of them would live it down if they allowed me to take a heavier load.

On our way back, Oin was animatedly telling Kili about our little blood war, and we walked back into camp, blood spattered and laughing.

Apparently, I made quite the sight. I had the two skinned and gutted rabbits in one hand, and the pheasant slung over my back. I had blood splattered on my face and jacket, and my hands were coated with it. I shrugged when Gandalf, who I had not seen up until this point, fixed me with a questioning look.

Oin and Kili left to clean up, still chuckling. I looked around me to find that Dwalin was the closest free dwarf.

“Master Dwalin? Would you mind giving me a hand?” I called out, gesturing to the deer. He frowned and crossed his arms.

“What, lass?” He asked bluntly. It was very apparent that he was still very much on Thorin’s side about me. That was his problem.

“Help me sling up these deer, would you?” He furrowed his brow slightly, then nodded and came to my side.

We remained in silence as we worked to string the deer up by their back legs. By the time mid day had hit, we had the deer strung up and skinned. We were called away to lunch, then, and it seemed like Oin could not wait to tell everyone else about our little war earlier.

“And then, she threw it’s danglies at me! Hit me right in the back of the ‘ead, she did!” This was met to laughter, of course. Gandalf hadn’t been wrong about their humor and mannerisms.

“What in the world possessed you to do such a thing, lassy?” Balin asked.

“Well, he was over there trying to gross me out, flinging blood at me and all that. It served him right.” I said defensively. I sipped at the left over stew from this morning. Not that it didn’t taste good, but I was looking forward to the promise of fresh meat tonight.

After lunch, a couple of the others set off the butchering the deer. Upon hearing that there was a stream not too far away, I decided that I would go wash off and finally clean and change my clothes. While I had managed to change my underwear on a semi-regular basis, I was wearing the same ACU’s since day one. They were grimy and stunk to high heaven. I doubt the dwarves noticed, but I sure as hell did.

I headed off in the general direction that Balin had told me the stream was in after having grabbed my ruck sack. It was a bit farther then I expected, but still within yelling distance, I supposed, if the noise from the camp was an indicator.

I tugged off my jacket and knelt down in the stream to first wash off my blood splattered arms. I tugged my knife out from the pocket next and began to clean that in the stream, too. Fortunately for me that I decide to do that right then. I heard a the soft crunch of boots in the grass, followed by the unmistakable sound of metal being drawn. I whipped around, knife in hand, to find Thorin Oakenshield standing with his axe drawn and leveled at me. He eyed my blade with mild surprise.

“What the hell are you playing at, Oakenshield?” I demanded, my heart in my throat.

“Trying to prove to you that you don’t belong. I could have killed you here and now, and you would not have been able to draw a single breath to call for help.”

“And what does that prove, except that for all your claims that men and elves are the untrustworthy ones, it is you who would offer me harm when all I have done is offer you my *help.* “ I felt stupid with my little knife in my hand, so I flung it down into the ground with a mixture of anger and disgust. Thorin seemed taken aback by my words and lowered his axe.

“I don’t understand it. You may ignore Bilbo and you may make snide remarks, but you have never pulled something like this with him. If its because of my gender, then please. I’ll stuff a rolled up sock down my pants and you can pretend I have a dick. If its because I havent signed a piece of paper, well, get me a damn quill and I’ll sign anything you want me too. And if its because I am ‘of the race of man’, then get the fuck over it.” I practically spat.

Thorin watched me as my shoulders heaved. I had never been so angry in my life. I had to stop myself from saying anything else before anything left my mouth that I would regret.

He dropped his axe so that the handle was touching the ground. He sized me up then, taking in my angry form, the blood still splattered on me, the dagger on the ground before me. He seemed to decide something then.

“You will train to shoot with Kili and Fili will train you with a sword. You will help to break camp each morning and make camp each evening. You will do as you are told, and whatever anyone in this company is willing to teach you, you will learn. Do not think, for one moment, however, that you are a *part* of this company. You are not entitled to any profits. If you die, we will not bury you. If you fall behind, we will not wait for you.”

I let out a long breath.

“You have already made that abundantly clear,” I snapped. He stood for a moment longer and then walked away.

I watched him go angrily. I must have a god damn talent to make him walk away from me so often.

I had spent a good long time down at the stream, angrily washing everything I owned. I had even ventured to strip down to my underwear and breast band to take a bath in the stream. The cold water did little to wash away the biting anger I felt. Once I was done, I dressed in clean clothes and I made camp away from everyone else, trying to convince myself that I needed to dry my things, and that I wasn’t just hiding.

I ignored the call for dinner and instead put away my whatever was dry, namely the smaller items, such as my socks and underwear. Even the breast band I put away, in favor of wearing a real bra for a change. The now clean ACUs I had been wearing were still damp, so I merely shook them out and turned them over. I sat with my knees up and splayed, my arms locked loosely around them.

I finally ate the food that Bilbo had prepared for me what felt like ages ago, but in reality was only the day before. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but forced myself to eat anyways.

Grey-mane walked close to the fire and turned his head to look at me. He had spent the day with Dreysill, grazing in a meadow not far away. He was certainly looking much better then he had been, and I was glad for that, at the very least. I stood up and scratched his favorite spots and leaned into him for a small measure of comfort. I could feel tears building and starting to leak down my face, but I hardly made a sound.

Chapter Text

After Thorin and I spoke that night, I distanced myself mentally, if not physically, from the company. I treated it much as I had basic training. I spoke when spoken too. I did my tasks when I was needed to do them. Before we broke camp each morning, I practiced shooting with Kili. Each night before dinner, Fili would show me how to wield a sword.

My initial luck with the bow had run out. My arms were exhausted from trying to pull back such a heavy bow on such a regular basis. I could hit the target once in ten tries, and I felt my courage and strength failing. Bilbo took it upon himself to sit with me each night and, even if I didn’t speak, he chatted amicably of his home in the Shire. Thorin would not trust me to stand guard so each night, I slept as far away from everyone as I dared. Each morning, I began to wake later and later. Gandalf had disappeared for a short while and, if it weren’t for Grey-mane and Bilbo, I was sure I would have been left behind on multiple occasions.

We had started to get into rougher country. We were climbing hills and crossing small rivers. Many times, we had to dismount and lead our steeds through narrow, rocky paths.

It was easy to watch the movies from the comfort of your own home. The big screen made it look so easy. It had glossed over the biting insects and the gnawing hunger we often felt when we lacked game to hunt. Thorin did not want us to use up too much of our, excuse me, their traveling supplies. The sheer exhaustion of traveling from sun up and sun down with few breaks was getting to me. I had stopped eating as much, too tired to bother. I knew that in the past three weeks I had lost weight. The few times we had been able to rest at a stream, I cleaned myself the best I could and tried to ignore the hollows beginning to form in my cheeks and collar bones. I had never been fat, really, but I had had ‘love handles’ and a small belly from a fairly sedentary life style, army aside, and plenty of food compared to now.

The most frustrating part was the fact that I could not remember the exact timeline of the Hobbit. Okay, so I knew the events. But I couldn’t tell you which days were which. I wasn’t sure how close we were to meeting up with the trolls. I didn’t know how far away from Rivendell we were, and I dare not ask Gandalf, even when he was present.

My attitude began to reflect my interactions with the dwarves. I ignored the jokes from Fili and Kili. I only nodded to Balin or Ori when they offered a kind word. I avoided Thorin at all costs, which wasn’t difficult. He seemed to like my presence as little as I liked his. It made me angry and I could not remember why I had ever admired him. I was bitter. I wanted home.

We were heading down a particularly rocky and steep slope when I stepped on a loose piece of shale. I started to fall and immediately let go of Grey-mane’s reins, not wanting to drag him down with me, or to drag him down on top of me. I slid forward and gasped as a sharp pain ripped up my left bicep. For once I was thankful I was lagging behind. It meant that I wasn’t going to be crashing into anyone.

I had stumbled a few feet before I came to a stop. My arm throbbed and I knew that new bruises and cuts had replaced the ones that had healed from weeks ago. Painfully, I stood up and dusted myself off. I checked Grey-mane over to make sure he hadn’t stumbled when I fell. I could feel my face flushed with embarrassment and I wipe angrily at the hot tears that threatened.

“Are you alright, Talya?” I heard Bilbo call. He had been the one closest to me when I fell. I glanced ahead to see that he and a few others had paused to check on me.

“Fine,” I answered shortly. I tugged at Grey-manes bridle harder than I intended too and he snorted and tossed his head.

Bilbo, at least, hesitated.

Once camp was made that night, I made an excuse to go relieve myself when in all actuality, I wanted to see the damage done. Once out of the way of prying eyes, I tugged of my jacket and, inspecting the torn and bloodied sleeve, tossed it down. I bent my arm at an angle and looked down at the back of my arm. A four inch gash, crusted with blood and already bruising, met my eyes. I hissed slightly. When the hell did injuries hurt once you finally looked at them?

I did my best to clean it up and cut up my thermal pants that had long since been packed away to make a bandage. Once that was done, I pulled on my clean jacket. If they hadn’t already, I didn’t want anyone to see the blood.

After a short dinner, Fili stood and walked off from the camp and I followed, well versed with the routine now.

He handed off one of his short swords and began putting me through stances. He had made me use both my left hand and my right ever since we started, saying that it was best to build up the strength in both because you never knew when you would need to switch arms. Problem was, my left arm was so bruised and swollen by that point, I could barely lift the damn sword, let alone swing it anywhere.

Fili and Kili had set up a make shift target using old bits of cloth and a downed tree they supported in a hole in the ground. They were pointing out the weak spots one would find in most armor. Fili showed me a few moves, slowly of course, to disarm or kill an opponent.

“A downward stroke here will knock the blade from your enemy’s hand. Turn the blade a hair, and it will knock the hand from your enemy‘s arm.” He said, angling his blade in a downward stroke. I copied the move using my right arm, stopping short of hitting the target as he had. We didn’t want to blunt his blades, after all.

He encouraged me to use my left and I grit my teeth against the pain.

“You’re form with your right is getting better, but you need work with your left. Here,” He reached out and grabbed my upper arm to move it to the right stance and I bit back a yelp and let my arm drop.

“Talya…?” Fili asked, pulling back his hand immediately. He frowned and looked down at his bloodied hand. “You’re injured.”

“I’m fine,” I bit back.

“No you’re not. You’re whole sleeve is bloodied.” Kili said, peering closer at me. “Come on. Oin can get you fixed up.

“I said I’m fine! Wouldn’t want your Uncle to think I can’t handle a little scratch.”

“Don’t be stubborn. You can’t use your arm like that and the longer it takes to heal, the longer it will take you to build up your strength.” Kili said, frowning, now too. Fili held out his hand for his sword and I hesitantly handed it to me.

“Alright,” I finally said. I followed the two back. I stood at the edge of the camp and watched Fili approach Oin. The old dwarf paused a moment, adjusting the trumpet in his ear before his eyes looked up, searching for me. He motioned me over.

“Come on, now, lass. Lets see it,” He patted the ground next to him once I was close. I sat down with my left side to him and the fire and tugged off my jacket, then the blood spotted bandage.

“You did a number on yourself, lassie,” He said, gently turning my arm this way and that. Fili and Kili stayed nearby, looking close. Kili made a face.

“Tell me how you really feel,” I muttered. Oin reached over into his pack and pulled out a vial of some sort of liquid, a few bandages, and a needle with thread. I pulled a face.

“You ever have stitches before?” Oin asked, pausing a moment to glance up at me.

“Unfortunately,” I answered. Oin began to gently clean out the gash while the two brothers looked at me expectantly. “What?”

“When did you need to get stitches?” Kili asked.

“A few times when I was a kid,” I answered, wincing at a particularly painful probe.

“Why did you need them?” Fili asked. I appreciated their attempts to keep my attention off of Oin’s administrations.

“Well, there was one time I was walking barefoot through a stream and sliced my foot open on a piece of discarded glass. That took six stitches. A second time, I caught my arm open on some barbed wire fence, that took four…. Ouch!” I yelped. Whatever liquid was in that vile stung like a bitch.

“And..?” Fili asked.

“…and the last time was when I was doing a training exercise in the army. My sparring partner got a little overzealous and caught me across the forehead with her pugil stick. Normally, the damn things are supposed to be padded, but unfortunately the cloth had worn away and I took the edge of a very sharp object to the forehead. That took nine stitches. I still have a scar from that one,”

“Whats a pew-gul stick?” Fili asked.

“Its… A staff that’s about four feet long with padding at either end and a grip in the middle. We used it to do…. Fucking rat bastard!” I stopped there as the needle pierced my skin for the first time. Kili and Fili bit back grins at my curse and I flipped them off. The motion turned out to be useless, though, since apparently that was one insult that did not bridge the culture gap.

“What did you use them for?” Kili asked curiously, his eyes still lit up with the effort to not laugh at my outburst. I glared at him.

“Beating the shit out of each other and obnoxious dwarves who can’t not laugh at someone elses pain!” I closed my eyes and grit my teeth.

“What other kind of training did you do?”

“Running. Ruck marches. That’s where we basically loaded up a whole ton gear and walked and jogged long distances. We had target practice. Exercise. We did drills and formations…. Ah bitch faced twat waffle!”

By now, my cursing had been heard by most of the company and I found that suddenly, I had quite the audience.

“You were in an army, lass?” Balin asked.

“Ahhhh yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Was in for four, almost five years.”

“Where you ever in any battles?” Ori asked softly. I looked in his direction.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “I was deployed to ‘enemy territory’ twice. Once for 12 months, the second for 14 months.”

There was a pause as Oin tugged another stitch through. He had hit the dead center of the gash now, where it was swollen and bruised the most. Apparently, the thread got stuck because he gave it a particularly hard tug.

“Mother fucking douche canoe…!” I yelled. I let out a sharp breath and tried to even my breathing. At home at least when I had gotten stitches, the shit had been numbed first. The dwarves looked at me, shocked for a moment and I realized what I had just said. Given the culture, ‘mother fucker’ may have been a bit crass, even for them.

“….What is a ‘dou-sh canoe’” Ori asked innocently. My eyes popped open and I almost choked on laughter.

“Oh my god, of all the things I said, THAT’S what you picked up on?” I fought the urge to smack my forehead.

“Alright, lads, stop makin’ in her laugh. It will make my stitches crooked and it will scar more.” Oin scolded, looking up sternly.

“Wouldn’t be the first scar I’ve gotten, and it probably wont be the last,” I said, wincing again.

“What kind of scars does a lass like you have?” Nori asked.

“Mostly from stupid little accident like this - ouch! - because I was a clumsy as hell as a kid. But I have a few battle wounds, so to speak.” The dwarves waited expectantly.

“Well, as I was telling these guys, I took a staff to the forehead here,” I said, turning my head slightly and using my free arm to push back my hair. I still had a four inch long scar there under my hairline. “I have one on my forearm from the barbed wire incident… -Ouch! Dammit, dwarf, are you almost done?”

Oin gave a dry chuckle.

“One last one, lassie.” I let out a huff and watched with morbid fascination as the needle pierced my skin for the last time. He tied it off into a neat stitch, wiped away the blood, and began to wrap my arm up..

“You can add another eight stitches to your record,” He said as he wiped off his hand.

“Thank you, Master Oin,” I said with sincerity. He offered up a brief smile.

“You are welcome.” He said simply. I shrugged my other sleeve off. Now that I was near the fire, it was rather warm. I turned my arm a little and pointed out the thin white scar from the barbed wire.

“The only other scar I really have is here,” I said, touched the hollow under my collar bone on the right side. I tugged the collar of my shirt down just enough for them to see the small almost start shaped scar.

‘Whats that from, then?” Dori asked.

“I was shot,” I answered simply. I didn’t really want to get into the specifics of fire arms. It would be too difficult to try to explain the sort of wars we waged at home, and with what weapons. “There was thirty of us .My team and I were in a quiet market place when our enemy sprung out of nowhere. It was supposed to be a routine march. Nothing serious. We were in what was supposed to be a safety zone, for fucks sake,” I paused and felt myself growing a little distant as I remembered. “One of my team-mates was killed before we really knew what happened. We all ducked down into the nearby buildings for cover, civilians screaming and running. It was chaotic. See, where we were… Our enemies were dressed just as civilians. As normal, every day people. It wasn’t until you saw a weapon in their hand that you knew who to shoot.

“We were pinned down for a few minutes before we really realized where we were being shot upon from. By then, we had lost two of our members and another three were on the ground bleeding. We took down eight, ten, then fifteen of them, but they kept coming. At one point, one of them rushed forward and was about to shoot my battle while her attention was turned on another, and I stood up and shot him. For my efforts, I was shot back. I was caught here,” I said softly, touching the scar, “But luckily it came right out of the back,” I leaned forward and showed the slightly larger scar on the other side of my shoulder.

“My battle, Sergeant 1st Class Alicia Andrews, dragged me back behind a low wall. She propped me up enough that I could still shoot…

“It felt like hours, but really it had only been about twenty, maybe twenty five minutes. In the end, thirty-nine of our enemy lay dead and another four would not live to see the next day. Three more were taken prisoner and who knows how many ran. Our team lost four good soldiers that day. Two more were sent home, one of them will never walk again. Eight more of us were injured. Andrews received a medal for saving my ass. She gave it to me, said I deserved it for saving her ass first. I tried to give it back but” I gave a dry laugh and felt a tear trickle down my face and I didn’t bother to wipe it away, “that shit always managed to hide it back in my stuff, somewhere.”

I looked up and was surprised to find the eyes of thirteen dwarves and one hobbit on me. Most of the older dwarves had far away looks in their eyes as if they too were remembering battles of the past. The friends left behind. The loved ones lost. The dead they had buried.

Chapter Text

Oin insisted that I take a break from training over the next few days, at the very least, to allow my wound to start to heal. He didn’t want me to pop out the stitches and to be honest, I was inclined to agree. It hurt bad enough the first time around. I really did not want to sit through that again. He had told me how lucky I was that the shale stone had not cut any deeper; it was mostly a flesh wound. I had tried hard not to laugh when he said that and I managed, but only barely. It reminded me of Monty Python, particularly with his accent.

I had to admit, I needed the break. My body was so exhausted, my muscles so worn down, that I felt like I could hardly move. I helped where I could, mostly gathering fire wood- could I ever escape that task? - and helping gather food wherever we could find it. When Kili brought back small game, I skinned it and prepped it for the evening meal and then sat back to watch Bombur cook. At the end of each meal, I would help clean out the bowls and then tended the horses and ponies.

After sharing my story with the company, I felt like I had carved out a delicate and precarious place among them, despite the obvious warnings from Thorin about not letting me get too close. I was included once again in conversation and stories. I shared a few more of my own tales from deployment, though mostly light-hearted stories of the trouble we had gotten ourselves into and the pranks we had pulled. Kili in particular had delighted in these tales and I could tell by the mischievous look in his eyes that we could probably expect him to pull some pranks of his own.

Gandalf had returned to us the day after my injury and shook his head at me as if to say, I leave and this is what happens? When he peered closer at me, though, he had frowned and I wonder what it was that he saw.

The third day of my break from training, it rained for a good portion of the morning. We sought shelter a little earlier that day so we could find some proper dry shelter. We climbed up to some higher ground and, after tying the ponies off on a long line, we set about making camp on a large flat outcrop that looked down on the valley below. I settled myself against a rock and chewed on the end of a long green piece of grass, trying to ignore the fact that I had not been able to brush my teeth in more than three weeks. Sure, I had cleaned them the best I could and rinsed my mouth out with water, but it was a poor substitute for an actual brush and paste.

Leaning back, I crossed my ankles and set about cleaning and sharpening my k-bar with the whet stone that Balin had loaned me. Him and a few others spent a good chunk of time before dinner examining it with fascination. It was a ‘crude tool’, apparently, but ‘it would do in a pinch.’ I chuckled to myself and wondered what the manufactures at home would thing about their knife being called crude.

Everyone had fallen into their own conversation, and I enjoyed listening to the quiet murmur of voices and the occasional outburst of song.

Something had been nagging at me since dinner and it was not until a few hours after dusk that I figured out what that something was.

Screams and snarls echoed up from the valley below and I sat up, my heart in my throat. This was something I remembered. My eyes flicked to Bilbo, who had jerked his head up.

“What was that?” He asked in a breathy voice.

“Orcs,” Answered Kili.

“Throat-cutters. There‘ll be dozens of them out there,” Fili chimed in. “The lowlands are crawlin’ with them.”

“They strike in the wee small hours of the morn’, when everyone’s asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams. Just lots’ of blood.” Continued Kili.

Bilbo paled and looked off in the direction of the noises. I watched Thorin stand and glare at his nephews, his eyes blazing with anger, and yet not without sadness. The scene un folded much as it had in the movies. Balin’s staunch support of his king had touched me then, but it was nothing to what I felt as Balin’s eyes had grown distant and misty as he relayed the tale of Azanulbizar, of the death of the king Thror and the lose of so many lives.

The anger I held within me for Thorin evaporated when he turned around to face us. My heart ached at the pain in his eyes and I realized that some of my anger at him was misplaced. He may have been arrogant and pig headed and kind of an asshole, but this dwarf… He had sacrificed everything for his people. He had faced down a great enemy and had watched his people fall by the thousands. He had lost his father and his grandfather. He had lost his ancestral home. And then, begging and scrapping, he and the others had lowered themselves to do the bidding of the common rabble to scrape by a living. A king of beggars.

It was easy in that moment to understand the distrust he had in me.

“He slunk back into the hole from whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago,” Thorin finished, answering Bilbo. I bit my lip for a moment before standing slowly. I followed Thorin as he stalked off to the bed roll he laid some distance away from the company.

“…did you see his body?” I asked softly. Thorin snapped his head around to look at me.

“What?” His voice was pitched low and dangerous.

“A…Azog. Did you see his dead body? My commander always told us to assume that an enemy was alive unless we could prove, without a doubt, that they were dead.”

Thorin turned to face me and, for the first time, I feared the dwarf. His body held a fine tremor of rage and he took three quick steps to close the distance between us.

“He is dead,” Thorin snapped, “And you had best keep your mouth shut about things you know nothing about, woman.”

“Im just saying… don’t discount….” The words died in my mouth. Thorin’s eyes were so dark they were nearly black. His fists were held at his side, his fingers curled so tight that even in the dim fire light, I could see how white his knuckles were. I was almost afraid in that moment that he would strike me.

“I said to keep your mouth SHUT!” He snarled then. My heart was in my throat and I dropped my gaze and lowered my head. Thorin breathed deeply a few times, trying to collect himself. After a few minutes, his body sagged some and I risked a glance. He was still staring at me, but he had calmed.

“I’m sorry Tho… Master Oakenshield. Its none of my business.”

“Go to bed,” His voice was cold, his words almost a challenge, as though he was waiting for me to argue. I looked him in the eye one last time before I turned and walked back to my spot. I lay down and turned my back away from the others, knowing my face was tinged red, partially from embracement at being scolded, partially at the sheer adrenaline that had rushed my body at the threat of Thorins’ posture.

I really should have kept my mouth shut.

I lay awake for awhile before I felt a presence near me. I turned and sat up to see Gandalf approaching. I tugged my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, cold despite the balmy temperature. He sat upon a large rock and puffed on his pipe.

“You fear that Azog still lives?” Gandalf asked. I wondered for a moment why he was asking that when he knew damn well I knew the events of the quest. Then I realized he probably did not want to risk the dwarves over hearing.

“Don’t you?” I asked, remember the long gaze he had settled Thorin with in the movie after his parting line. Gandalf puffed on his pipe quietly.

“Yes. The thought has preyed on my mind. While Thorin did indeed deal him a mortal wound, I fear that such evil is not so easily destroyed.”

We fell silent and, without meaning too, I felt my eyes search out Thorin’s form. He sat off by himself as usual, looking out at the wilds before us.

“You are thinner, my dear.” Gandalf said. “You need to take better care.”

“I’m…”

“Fine? I am no fool, Talya Conner. You are pale, your skin ashen, and your cheeks hollow. You have been pushing yourself too hard.”

“What choice do I have, Gandalf? If I show any weakness, then whatever little nook I have carved for myself here will crumble. If I am to serve my purpose here, then I have to just suck it up and deal.”

Gandalf said nothing to this, obviously agitated by my answer. He puffed on his pipe a little longer before standing and walking away, uttering a soft good night as he drifted off.

It poured the next day, the raining coming down in great splashes. We rode along slowly, picking our way through the mud and muck. The dwarves’ gear and my own seemed to hold up much better under the weather than poor Bilbos. I had reached into my bag at one point and had pulled out my poncho. I handed it off to him with mild amusement. With his curly dark locks splattered to his forehead, he looked even younger than he actually was. After a confused look at me, I showed him how to put it on.

“This is amazing!” He said as he watched the rain pool and trail off the cloth without soaking in. Most of the dwarves seemed to marvel over the bit of fabric, and I laughed dryly. I tried to picture what their reactions would be if I had been able to show them some of my other gear, like my lighter or my rifle, then sobered and decided I did not really like the thought of firearms in middle earth. They could reek enough havoc all one their own.

“Here, Mr Gandalf, can’t you do something about this deluge?” Dori complained

“It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you had best find yourself another wizard.” Gandalf answered sourly.

“Are there any?” Bilbo asked curiously.

“What?”

“Other wizards.”

“There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Sarumon the White” I shuddered at that, but kept quiet. “There are two blue wizards, though, you know, I have quite forgotten their names.”

“And the fifrth?”

“Well, that would be Radagast the brown.”

“Is he a great wizard…. Or is he more like you?” Bilbo asked. Gandalf turned to fix Bilbo with an almost insulted look.

“I think he is a very great wizard, in his own way….”

The rain kept up all night and tapered off, thankfully, just before dawn. Thorin decided that we would set up camp early that night to allow for our things to dry and to hunt for fresh meat once more. It was shortly after mid-day when we neared the remains of an old farm house. My throat tightened and I shot a look at Gandalf.

Thorin dismounted, and the others began to follow suit.

“We’ll camp here for the night. Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them.” Thorin called as he entered the ruins. Gandalf followed behind and I did not need to draw near to hear what was being said. Heated words were exchanged and Gandalf turned and began to storm off.

“Everything alright? Gandalf, where are you going?” Bilbo asked, concerned. I turned Grey-mane to face Gandalf, indecision etched on my face.

“To seek the company of the only one around here who has any sense!” Gandalf answered, angrily.

“And who is that?”

“Myself, Mr. Baggins! I‘ve had enough of dwarves for one day.”

“Come on, Bombur. We’re hungry.” Thorin called, having watched Gandalf’s retreat with narrowed eyes. I looked after Gandalf and almost went with him when Thorin’s voice stopped me.

“Miss Conner,” He said sharply. I faced him.

“Do you not have a camp to help make?” I frowned as he turned to speak with Dwalin, dismissing me entirely. I hesitated again and dismounted. If Gandalf had wanted me with him, he would have said so.

My nerves were shot that night as I waited in anticipation for what was to come. I thought several times about voicing my concerns, but knew they would fall on deaf ears.

Dwalin had, at one point, set some small traps around a few trails while the rest of us made camp and laid out our things to dry. He came back shortly before dinner with a few rabbits and, as usual, I helped skin and dress them. He watched silently as Bombur cooked, his job done, and ate a few bloody fistfuls of what I assumed to be the livers and other edible organs. I pulled a face.

“That is so unsanitary. Hes going to end up with parasites,” I muttered. Bilbo looked up at me from his place on the ground, about to take a bite of a stale roll.

“Parasites?”

“Yeah… All manner of gross things. Fleas and ticks could be considered parasites, and I know we are all familiar with those. But eating raw meat… We’ll there are these things called tapeworms and roundworms. If the meat you eat is infested with them, then you could ingest eggs and they will hatch inside of your intestines and other organs. They cause a whole host of problems. Weight loss. Stomach problems, stuff like that. Its not pleasant.”

Bilbo made a face and it almost looked like he was going to put his food down. His hobbit nature got the better of him, though, and soon he was back to munching on his roll.

Bilbo seemed to pick up on my tense mood, or perhaps he could feel something was off, too. But the longer that Gandalf was gone, the more he began to fret. Dinner was just about done when he began to pace some.

“He’s been gone a long time,” He said after he passed Bofur for what had to have been the sixth time.

“Who?” Bofur asked finally.

“Gandalf.”

“‘He’s a wizard. He does as he chooses. Here. Do us a favor; take these to the lads.” Bofur handed off two bowls of steaming hot soup to Bilbo who promptly sloshed some on his hand. I watched him, only listening vaguely as Bofur scolded Bombur for trying to sneak more stew.

The panic I had felt all day began to reach a fever pitch. I knew any moment, Bilbo would be set off towards the trolls’ camp and be taken captive. I refused dinner, and hovered over the others as they ate, quickly taking and cleaning their bowls as soon as the were finished. It earned me quite a few odd looks, particularly from Thorin.

“What haste as been set upon you?” He asked as he thrust his now empty bowl into my hands. I debated a moment.

“I have a bad feeling. Something is going to happen.” I answered. He leaned back some and regarded me with cool eyes.

“And I suppose you have some wisdom that we do not? You think we battle hardened warriors would not be able to sense if danger was near…?” Thorin asked condescendingly.

“I didn’t say it was wisdom. I said I had a bad feeling. I think we should be prepared for anything.”

We heard crashing in the distance and Thorin jerked his head up, then glanced at me. Everyone grew tense as Kili and Fili burst through the brush.

“Trolls! They have captured Bilbo and taken the ponies!” Fili said breathlessly. Thorin quickly looked at me in confusion, but the moment lasted only seconds.

“Quickly, now!” Thorin yelled, standing in a fluid movement. I dropped his bowl and reached to grab my knife.

“No. You stay here,” Thorin snapped as the others grabbed their weapons from the ground. “Bilbo is enough of a burden without having to watch your back as well,”

I was a soldier at heart and knew an order when I heard one. I grit my teeth as he brushed past me. He and the others picked up a quick pace and disappeared beneath the trees.

I swore, loudly. It didn’t matter that I knew they’d be alright. It was still difficult to stand there when people I had come to care about - Bilbo, Fili, Kili, Ori, Balin… would be put in harms way.

I set about breaking camp as quickly as I could, haphazardly packing bags, not really caring what went where. As time drew by, I grew more nervous, something eating away at me. Finally, I said screw it.

I called Grey-mane to me and, after tossing a few bags up onto the saddle, mounted on his back.

“We need to find Gandalf and Dreysill,” I said as I settled myself in my seat. We took off in the direction that Gandalf had went, and I preyed to myself that he had not gone far.

We searched until near midnight when we found him sitting on a large stone, Dreysill grazing nearby He looked up in shock as Grey-mane and I came to a quick stop before him.

“Gandalf… Trolls!” I said, my breath short. He wasted no time in jumping on Dreysills back. We turned and began to ride in earnest. Dawn was rapidly approaching and I wondered to myself what would have happened had I not gone to look for Gandalf.

Gandalf left me with the horses and the remaining ponies as he made his way towards the troll camp. I waited with baited breath as the sun began to rise in the sky. A sudden voice carried on the wind, followed by the wails of what I assumed were the trolls turning to stone. I let out a breath that I did not realize I had been holding and, checking that the remaining lines the ponies were tied off on were secure, remounted Grey-mane and took off towards the company.

I reached them just as the last of them were being freed from their sacks. I let out a long breath in relief and dismounted. I smiled as Bilbo made his way to me and gave me a hug of relief. The gesture was oddly touching and I patted his back before pulling away from the embrace.

“Where did you go?” I heard Thorin ask Gandalf as he replaced the things the trolls had stripped from him.

“To look ahead.” Gandalf replied.

“What brought you back.”

Gandalf gave a small smile and gestured to me. Thorin turned to look at me, confusion and something else lurking in his eyes.

“Looking behind.”

Chapter Text

With Thorin and Gandalf leading the way, we went off in search of the trolls’ cave. Bilbo and I walked side by side quietly, reeling with the events of the evening before. I was still confused as to why Gandalf had barely made it to the trolls on time, and why it took me finding him for it to happen. I tried to think of the implications, but after a night of no sleep, it was making my head hurt.

“You gave me the idea, you know,” Bilbo said suddenly, looking at me with a small smile.

“Huh?” I asked, frowning slightly. I had just thought about the trolls and how hideous they had really been up close. Not to mention the smell. Even being in their presence made me feel the need to bathe.

“The worms. I remembered what you said about Dwalin eating the raw meat, and so I though to myself, if they are really that terrible… Then maybe it would make the trolls hesitate.”

I fought the urge to frown harder, once again the implication that *I* had been a part of a plot in the story making my head hurt worse. I forced a smile.

“It was quick thinking, Master Burglar,” I said, not being able to help teasing him, just a little.

“That it was, lad.” Balin said from just behind us. “An’ don’t think we aren’t grateful.”

“And what about Talya? She brought Gandalf back to us.” Bilbo said.

“We are grateful to you, too, lassie.” Balin said, smiling kindly at me. I nodded and mimed a small bow towards him.

“I couldn’t let you guys get eaten. Poor trolls probably never had anything so terrible,” I said with a straight face.

“Bah!” Nori snorted and made a rude gesture. I returned in and we both grinned. ‘

“You surprised Thorin, you know,” Bilbo said softly after a moment.

“Not as much as you did. It may take him awhile to realize it, but if it hadn’t been for you stalling, Gandalf would never have made it back in time.”

Bilbo looked ahead thoughtfully. There was some commotion, and we stopped.

“We found the cave,” Dori said from the front of the group. We neared the cave and nearly everyone started retching.

“Oh, whats that stench?!” Nori asked as he neared the mouth of the cave.

“It’s a troll hoard. Be careful what you touch.”

One by one, we picked our way into the cave. I gagged and tugged my under shirt to cover my nose. It may have reeked of sweat and dirt, but it was preferable to the stench of the trolls cavern.

Torches were lit and passed around. Our eyes went wide at the sight before us. There was gold and gems, swords and daggers. Bones of animal and man alike. Rot and decay permeated the air.

“Seems such a shame just to leave it lyin’ around. Anyone could take it.” I glanced in the direction of Bifur and Gloin as they packed as much treasure they could into a box and began to bury it. I rolled my eyes and began to cautiously pick through the cave.

I gingerly picked up some gold coins and tucked them into my boot. I still had the small pouch of coins in my bag from Gandalf and his bet on Bilbo, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take more in the off chance I could purchase supplies somewhere. As I searched, my eyes lit on a small skeleton. Being this far out, I doubted it was a hobbit and I felt an uncomfortable knot in my chest when I realized it was probably a child.

“Tayla?” Kilis voice was suddenly behind me and I tore my eyes away from the body of the child. I met his eyes and he smiled and held out a bow to me. I took it and turned it over in my hands.

It was dusty and covered in webs, but I could tell it was solidly made. The string was a bit frayed, but I knew that could be repaired easily. It wasn’t as large as Kili’s bow, and I hoped this would mean I would be able to draw it back a bit better.

“And a quiver for the lady,” Fili said as he stepped up to his brother. He gave an embellished flourish as he held out a simple quiver that held a few dozen grey-fletched arrows. The strap on the quiver was broken, and a few of the arrows would need new fletching, but otherwise they were in good shape. I smiled.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely.

“You are welcome, Talya.” Fili said.

“We found a few swords, too, but nothing with a blade that would hold up to your hacking.” Kili said with a straight face. Fili’s lips twitched and I glared at the two.

“Why did you have to ruin a nice gesture with a smart ass comment like that?” I asked, swatting Kili, the closer of the two. They just laughed and turned back to searching through the horde.

I picked my way outside and set about cleaning the webs and debris from the bow and arrows. They were rather plain looking and I doubt they had a nifty story behind them like Orcrist or Glamdring. It didn’t matter to me though. I finally had a weapon of my own, other then my knife.

I drew the bow back a few times and was pleased to find that, while my stitches pulled something fierce, I was able to draw the string back completely with a lot less difficulty than I had with Kili’s bow. No doubt that mine would not do the same damage at the same distance as his, but that was fine. I doubt I would ever be able to match Kili’s deadly accuracy.

The afternoon passed slowly and knowing that we would soon be running again, I suggested to Bilbo and a few others that we take our rest where we could. I lay my head down after eating a little jerky and drinking some water. I dozed for awhile under the mid-days sun.

I was rudely awoken some time later by Thorin’s deep voice.

“Something’s’ coming!” I jerked awake and quickly climbed to my feet. I slung my bow over my shoulder and held the quiver close.

“Radagast,” I said softly. Gandalf spared me a brief look and nodded nearly imperceptibly. He remained alert, but I noticed that some of the tension had leaked out of his shoulders. At least Gandalf took my word.

“Theives! Fire! Murder!” The voice yelled. A large sled drawn by a dozen or more rabbits flew into our midst and stopped suddenly. My eyes widened at the sight before me. Oh, boy, did the movies get this part wrong. The rabbits were the size of Labrador retrievers. Their sleek fur was mottled browns, their ears tucked down their backs. Once they relaxed some, first one ear, and then the other raised. The sled had a sleek design, obviously meant for speed, and it reminded me less of a sleigh then of the sleds mushers used in the north.

Radagast was wild, his beard and hair matted and unkempt. He had earthy brown eyes that held a feral look. But he did not seem like the crazy wizard that had been portrayed in the movies, nor did he have a myriad of bird shit on his face. He moved very fluidly, the very plants and earth before him seeming to move to accommodate him. Instead of a solid brown, his robes were earthy tones of rich soils and the dappled greens of a moss coated ground.

“Radagast! Radagast the brown! Ah, what in the name of the Valar are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong.”

Thorin and company seemed at a complete lost as they regarded the strange wizard before them. I watched Gandalf and Radagast walk a short way away before talking in hushed tones. The dwarves began to drift back towards their belongings, most of them casting wary glances in the direction of the wizards now and then. I stayed where I was for a moment longer, watching the large rabbits move and turn in their traces.

Something occurred to me then. If this quest was following the movie plot then….

“Shit!” I cursed loudly. I headed towards where we had left the horses and ponies to find that they had all, including Grey-mane, bolted. “Shit!”

“What is it, Talya…?” Ori asked as he came running in behind me. I gestured around to the missing animals and his face paled. I grabbed his sleeve and tugged back towards the others.

“Who did you tell?” Gandalf’s voice demanded.

“Noone, I swear! What in Durin’s name is going on?!” Thorin demanded.

“You are being hunted.” Gandalf answered shortly. Thorin looked around for a moment before his eyes fell on me. His eyes lit up with anger.

“You!” His voice was a hiss as he advanced towards me. The amount of hatred he held in his voice stunned me and for a moment all I could do was stare, dumbfounded. Gandalf blocked Thorin’s way with his staff and for a moment, Thorin turned the full weight of his stare on Gandalf.

“Enough! Talya is NOT your enemy!”

“We have to get out of here!” Dwalin shouted, trying to get Thorin’s attention.

“We can’t. We have no mounts; they bolted.”

“I’ll draw them off,” Radagast said, turning to mount his sled.

“These are Gundabad Wargs. They will outrun you!” Gandalf said, turning his attention back to the other wizard.

“These are Rhosgobel Rabbits. I’d like to see them try.” And with that, Radagast mounted his sled. With a loud command in words I did not understand, the rabbits took off, kicking up leaves and brush as they flew by us.

“We must make haste!” Gandalf said, taking off in a different direction. Thorin turned his icy eyes accusingly on me for a moment.

“Lets go!” He called, waving his arm briskly in the direction Gandalf had went. I tightened my grip on my quiver and readjust my bow before taking off with the rest of the company.

We neared the edge of the woods and waited a moment as Radagast’s sled flew past, the orcs and their warg mounts not far behind.

“Come on!” Gandalf yelled in a hushed whisper. We began to move hurriedly across the rocky ground, trying our best to stay low and not draw attention to ourselves.

"Stay together!” Gandalf called out again as Bilbo began to lag behind.

“Move!” Thorn shouted mutedly.

We slowed just enough for Bilbo to catch back up before we were off again. We were about to round a huge jutting rock when I jerked forward and grabbed Thorin’s sleeve. His head snapped in my direction as he was tugged to a startling halt, not having expected the sudden force I was exerting on him.

“Wait, just wait…” I said, nearly out of breath. He narrowed his eyes and looked forward as though he was about to ignore me when he saw the orcs begin to draw near. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Ori, who had yet to stop.

“Ori, no! Come back!” He pulled the younger dwarf back to the rocks and we watched as the pack passed us by. Thorin glanced back, his eyes lingering on me for a moment.

“Come on! Quick!” Gandalf yelled, leading us out from behind the rock, a determined expression on his face.

“Where are you leading us?” Thorin demanded. Gandalf ignored the question and led us to another outcropping of large rocks. We paused a moment before we heard the snuffling and snarling of a warg above us. Thorin looked to Kili and made a short, swift motion. Kili nodded in understanding, then stepped out quickly, his bow drawn. He let an arrow fly and the warg and his rider tumbled down amongst us. The dwarves quickly dispatched it, but not before the beasts made a deafening racket.

“Run!” The words left my mouth before I meant to speak them, but I heard no complaints.

“Move!” Gandalf yelled. Everyone began to once more run, though it was obvious our stamina was beginning to fade.

“This way! Quickly!” Gandalf called as he doubled back shortly to lead us through a large and bare clearing. We stopped short. Wargs and orcs surrounded us on two sides, with more coming.

Now that they were closer, I could make out the details of the foul creatures. The wargs looked more like emaciated hyenas, their bones showing through their mangy hides, their teeth and jagged. Copious amounts of thick, viscous drool dropped from between their fangs while huge slitted eyes roamed over us. Their growls were low and I could feel the reverberating tones in my chest.

The orcs riders were a sickly yellow with pale eyes. Their mouths were black and pulled back into hideous grins, their jagged and stained teeth gnashing. Foul words tripped off their tongue in a gutteral language so harsh in almost hurt, taunting us.

“There’s more coming!” Kili yelled, pointing to the left of us with his bow.

“Kili! Shoot them!” Thorin called back. I watched Kili draw back arrow after arrow, bringing down wargs at impossible distances.

“We’re surrounded!” Fili yelled. What I assumed was a dwarvish curse left his mouth.

“Where is Gandalf?” Kili asked over his shoulder as he shot down yet another beast.

“He has abandoned us!” Dwalin yelled. I looked over my shoulder in a panic to find that he had indeed gone. I couldn’t remember for the life of me which direction he was supposed to take. My lungs were burning, my shoulders heaving as I tried desperately to catch my breathe. I could feel the cold bite of fear begin to take hold as the wargs drew closer.

“Hold your ground!” Thorin called, bracing himself as he wielded his axe before him.

“This way, you fools!” Gandalf called out. Our heads turned in his direction and we found the wizard standing between a grouping of rocks. Thorin turned towards him and stopped just at the entrance

“Come on, move! Quickly, all of you! Go, go go!” Thorin shouted. The company turned to run, save for Kili, who was still shooting at the orcs, and myself who watched hesitantly. A warg began to creep closer to the right side of Kili, his rider wielding a wicked cross bow. My heart dropped and I was reminded of my time deployed what seemed like so long ago.

“Kili! Look out!” I yelled. Over the snarling of the wargs and the shouts of their masters, he couldn’t hear me. Thorin did, however. His head jerked in the direction of his nephew. He took a few faltering steps towards the danger, but realized he was too far away.

Hoping against hope, I pulled my bow from my back, knocked an arrow, and prayed. The arrow flew swiftly and pierced the wargs throat. It jerked up, throwing its rider just as he was about to shoot. The arrow flew harmlessly over Kili’s head while the orc landed under its mount with a sickening crunch.

Thorin whirled around to look in the direction the arrow had come from and his eyes met mine. He glanced back at Kili.

“Kili, Run! Lets go, Talya.” Thorin ordered. It would be the first time he ever said my name.

I hesitated as I watched Kili fire one more arrow before turning around and running our way. Once he was level with me, I matched his pace and the two of us jumped gracelessly over the rocks and down the steep slope. Thorin followed us moments later and we all landed at the bottom, crashing into Bombur, Bifur, Nori, and Oin as we landed. The cavern was dimly lit and it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the sudden dark.

Above us, a horn sounded, low and long. We all turned to look up at the light that streamed down the hole we had jumped in.

The Elves of Rivendell, I thought to myself.

I jumped, startled when an orc came flying over the edge. It slid bonelessly down, its putrid corpse landing in front of Thorin. I watched from my spot on the ground as he jerked the arrow out of its chest and sneered, throwing the arrow down as though he had been burned.

“Elves,” That one word was so full of hatred it made my blood run cold.

“I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or no?” Dwalin yelled, peering down the long dark hallway he had found at the opposite end of the cave. He had been one of the first to regain his footing.

“Follow it, of course!” Bofur yelled, as if there were any doubt in the matter.

“I think that would be wise.” Gandalf said, more to himself then anything else.

The rest of the company began to pick themselves up and dust themselves off. They began to pick their way towards the path and, one by one, they disappeared. Figuring I should catch up, I attempted to push off with my left arm and hissed as a sharp pain traveled up my arm and it gave under my weight. The adrenaline had mostly left my system now that we were in the relative safety of the caverns. I realized belatedly that I must have torn through my stitches.

A pair of boots appeared on the ground before me and then, a large hand was held out in front of me. I gazed at the rings on the fingers and trailed my eyes up to meet the gaze of Thorin Oakenshield. I hesitantly reached out and grasped his forearm with my right hand. With more grace then I thought possible, he pulled me to my feet.

“You saved my nephew,” He said, appraising me. “For that, I will forever be grateful.”

An unexpected lump formed in my throat as our eyes met and he looked at me, truly looked at me. And, for the first time, there was a measure of respect reflected in their depths.

Chapter Text

Thorin and I walked side by side through the passage until finally we met up with the others. We rounded a bend and my breath caught in my throat.

The valley stretched out before us as far as the eye could see. A vast sea of greens met my eyes for everywhere I looked, there were growing things of unbelievable hues, flowers blooming in every color imaginable. Flawless silver buildings rose from the ground, their forms reflecting the rays of the sun brightly. The detail, even from this distance, was astounding, for each structure contained amazingly intricate designs and patterns carved with obvious care. Mist rose from the nearby river, adding an ethereal cloak to the valley below.

“The valley of Imladris. In the common tongue, it is known by another name.” Gandalf’s voice was soft, as though he did not want to disturb the beauty below with harsh tones.

“Rivendell,” Bilbo and I spoke the words at the same time and we looked at each other, unshed tears in our eyes reflecting back the unbelievable beauty of the elvenhome.

“Here lies the Last Homely House east of the sea.”

“This was your plan all along,” Thorin said, his voice again pitched low and dangerous. He had stepped forward to look out over the ledge we stood on, but now he turned to face Gandalf. “To seek refuge with our enemy?”

“You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will you will find in this valley is that which you bring yourself.” Gandalf answered, turning to face the angry dwarf with narrowed eyes.

“You think the elves will give our quest their blessing?” He spat out the last word. “They will try to stop us.”

“Of course they will. But we have questions that need answering. If we are to be successful, then this will need to be handled respectfully, and with no small degree of charm. Which is why you, Master Dwarf, will leave the talking to me.”

Gandalf turned as he said this and began down and long and winding path. Bilbo and I looked everywhere in awe. Every once and awhile, we would tear our gaze away from our surroundings to glance at each other in disbelief. Fili and Kili, too, seemed curious, but they hid it a hell of a lot better. I felt like I should be picking my jaw up off of the floor.

We came to an oblong flat ledge at the bottom of a set of stairs that led into the heart of Rivendell. Tall and elegant forms strolled along the paths nearby, their movements so gracefully flawless in an almost feline way. I glanced at Thorin, whos mouth was drawn into a thin line. His attention was turned to the top of the stares, where an elf had begun to approach. As I took in his immaculate form, I began to felt more and more insignificant. Long brown hair flowed down his shoulders and back in waves of silken perfection. His skin was flawless and seemed to permeate a soft glow of an almost imperceptible light.

I studied his face as he stopped before us. His face was ageless. If he had been human, I would have guessed he would be no older than 25. His eyes, however, were another story. They were shockingly bright and clear, the irises a smoky grey color that held a depth I could not begin to imagine.

He was tall. Ridiculously tall, at least six foot, probably more.

“Mithrandir.” He spoke, offering a short and graceful bow to the wizard. His voice was soft and lilting, very much like the music I had always heard it described as.

“Ah, Lindir,” Gandalf returned the bow and where I had always thought he was graceful and gentlemanly, even his movements looked crude.

I could not tear my eyes away from the creature before us, my ears straining to listen to the words that Gandalf and he spoke.

“Lastannem I athrannedh I Bruinen.”

“I must speak with Lord Elrond.”

“My lord Elrond is not here,”

“Not here… Where is he?” Gandalf asked, his tone suddenly worried. Lindir flicked his eyes behind us and made a gesture.

Suddenly, the horns we had heard earlier where back in full force. The sound of hooves thundered towards us and we turned to face the rapidly approaching elven warriors on their mounts. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a familiar green canvas bag and then, a familiar horse among them. I smiled when I realized it was Grey-mane

Thorin barked out a few harsh and guttural words and suddenly, my arm was grabbed and I was pushed, along with Bilbo, into the center of the rallying dwarves. They pressed in close, their weapons drawn. The elves slowed as they neared, riding in a tight circle around us. They, too, had their weapons at the ready, answering the unspoken threat the dwarves were offering up.

They stopped finally, their mounts snorting and pawing at the ground. One elf pulled away from the rest and dismounted his silver-white horse. His hair was so dark it was nearly black and it reached well down passed the middle of his back. Carefully plaited braids came down from his temples and were swept back and secured under the rest. Deep blue eyes roamed over our group and I felt his eyes on me for a moment before Fili tugged me behind him and out of the elf’s line of sight.

“Gandalf,” His voice was much deeper than Lindir’s had been. I leaned ever so slightly so that I could peer around Fili’s head. The two embraced briefly, a look of genuine affection passing between the two friends.

“Lord Elrond, mellon nin. Mo evinedh?”

“Farannem lamhoth I udul o charad. Dagannem rim na lant Vedui.” Elrond paused. “Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders. Something…or someone,” he cast an appraising look on us. “…has drawn them near.”

“Ah, that may have been us.” Gandalf answered. There was a little bit of shuffling and I watched Thorin stride forward to face Elrond.

“Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain.” The elf-lord said, inclining his head towards the dwarf. Even though Thorin was tall for a dwarf- standing just a little taller then me, Elrond still towered over him.

“I do not believe we have met,”

“You have your grandfathers’ bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled as King under the Mountain.”

“Indeed. He made no mention of you.”

The anger was back in his voice and I frowned. Lord Elrond acted like he did not hear the implied insult and instead, looked out over our little rag-tag gang.

“Nartho I noer, toltho I viruvor. Boe I annam vann a nethail vin.”

Gloin snarled to my left and I bit back the urge to roll my eyes.

“What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?”

“No, Master Gloin. He is offering you food.” Gandalf answered, exasperated..

Gloin ‘humped’ at that, and my companions all turned to each other.

“Food? Well, it would be nice to eat something other than stew,” Bofur said “No offense meant, Bombur.”

Bombur snorted.

“I could go for a few rashers of bacon, myself.” Gloin said, his voice reluctant.

“I’d just be happy with a bath,” I muttered to no one in particular. Gloin turned back to face Lord Elrond.

“Ah. Well. In that case, lead on.”

The elven warriors began to dismount, and as soon as the dwarves had began to spread out, I slipped past and headed towards Grey-mane. I ducked out of the way of a tall blonde elf and came to stand before my horse.

“Grey-mane, you fuzzy bastard!” I said with affection. I reached forward as he stretched his head out to me and I smoothed my hand over his nose. I moved closer to him and threw my arms around his neck. “I am glad you are alright,”

“He seemed most anxious to return with us,” I heard a lilting voice behind me. I turned and looked up (and up) at the blonde elf I had dodged. For a moment I couldn’t speak. Me, speechless. Who would have thought.

“Now I believe I have found the reason why.” The elf smiled then and offered a deep bow. “Welcome to Rivendell, horse-friend.”

My voice stuck in my throat, and I had to clear it a few times.

“You have my thanks, Master Elf, for the return of my dear friend.” That was diplomatic, right?

“Oh, ho! And here we find a jewel among dwarves!” He said with a laugh, looking up at his fellow warriors.

“You speak much sweeter then your dwarves companions,” He said, chuckling merrily. “Perhaps you will act as a stream to their stone, polishing away their rough edges so they too may speak with such grace.”

I almost thought there was a hidden innuendo there, but I brushed that thought aside before I could blush. His words were teasing, but I knew he didn’t mean anything by it, so I smiled despite myself.

“That well may be, but a few well places stones can still block even the mightiest of streams. I fear my efforts would be wasted.”

He smiled warmly and laughed, then uttered something in elvish I didn’t quite catch before turning and leading his horse away.

“Christ, that was painful,” I muttered into Grey-manes neck.

“Talya…?” Bilbo called. “Are you coming? The elves have offered us a place to bathe before dinner.”

I looked over to him to find that he was standing with two other elves, waiting on us. I took Grey-manes reins loosely in hand and caught up with the three.

“I can take him to the stables, my lady, and there he will receive good care,” One of the two elves said, holding out his hand. I hesitated a moment, hating to have to leave him already. I had grown very attached to him in our travels. I finally nodded and un- clasped my ruck sack from his back before handing off his reins to the elf.

“Go on, Grey-mane. You deserve a rest after all we’ve been through. I will visit as soon as I can,” I patted his neck and he leaned in to me a moment. The elf bowed his head and headed off, Grey-mane following close behind. I rearranged my bow and quiver before picking up my ruck sack and followed Bilbo and the second elf.

“Lord Elrond has requested that I show you to the bath houses,” The remaining elf said, extending a hand out to me. I wasn’t sure what to do, and it must have been obvious, because the elf chuckled and, with a smile, reached for my hand and tucked it in his arm. Bilbo bit back a laugh at my very obvious discomfort and I had to really fight back the urge to flip him off.

The elf lead us deeper into Rivendell, pointing out different sights, such as the library, the armory, and the stables.

We stopped before a large, relatively enclosed building that had to have been four or five stories high. Two female elves began to approach, smiling in welcome.

“And here I leave you, my lady, in the very capable hands of the elleths.” I narrowed my eyes a little and was almost positive he put a suggestive hint to the word ‘capable’ and I wondered if the elves were really as innocent as everyone claimed them to be. One of the females chuckled softly and I was almost sure he had been flirting. He let my hand go with a bow of his head and left with Bilbo. I turned to face the two waiting elleths.

One stood just a littler taller than the other, but both had the same rich brown hair and green-blue eyes. After a moment, I realized they were probably related.

“Come, my lady. No doubt that you have had little chance to relax on your travels. The baths are warm and there is still quite some time ‘ere the dinner bell rings.” The shorter of the two said, stepping aside to wave me towards the doors. Feeling very self-conscious, I followed behind the taller one as she headed inside.

We passed through an intricately carved set doors and, once again, I found myself struck nearly dumb by the intricate patterns and the delicate craftsmanship of even the tile beneath our feet. We climbed a set of stairs and I was led through another set of doors into a very spacious room. There were walls around three sides, the far side being completely open with an amazing view of the waterfall in the distance. A tree stood just outside, its low hanging branches acting like curtains, dipping down to touch the balcony that arched out gracefully from the room. Soft green curtains fluttered in the light breeze.

There were panels off to the side of the room with many hooks, each carved in the likeness of swans and other water-fowl. Where it should have looked silly, it looked right at home here among the elves.

In the center of the room was a large marble bath. Apparently, elves had the luxury of some sort of indoor plumbing because it was filled with steaming hot water. I sighed longingly and my two guides smiled at each other. The taller one led me to the panels.

“Undress when you are ready, my lady. If you leave your things on the hooks, we will see to it that they are cleaned and mended, and returned upon the ‘morrow. There will be a clean towel just inside”

“Uh… Thank you,” I stepped behind the curtain, leaned my bow and quiver against the wall and dropped my ruck sack. I pulled my knife out of its place in my pants pocket, making sure the sheath was tightly in place, and tucked it into my bag. Then, I began to peel my jacket off and winced when the fabric stuck to the blood that had dried around my pulled stitches.

I let my jacket drop, then leaned down to tug off my filthy boots, followed by my very holey and stained socks. My undershirt followed, then my bra, pants, and finally underwear. Now that I looked at the pristine white of the floor, I realized just how filthy my clothes were. Everything was stained with mud, dried blood, and grass. A solid line of dirt and grime was edged around my wrists, my ankles, and I’m sure, my neck. I had a wicked farmers tan going on and I was also *way* hairier then I usually let myself get, and I was sure I must look part-dwarf.

I looked at the bright white towel that was hung on a nearby hook and made a face. I really did not want to wrap that around my disgustingly dirty body, but I supposed I didn’t have much of a choice. I grabbed it off the hook and shook it out. The material was similar to terry cloth back home, but so much softer. It was huge. Once I wrapped it up under my armpits, the bottom of the towel dragged the ground and I could easily wrapped it around myself twice.

I stepped out from behind the panels and stood there awkwardly. My eyes caught sight of mirrors that were hung on the opposite wall and I winced. I had thought I looked bad at the Prancing Pony. My hair was greasy as hell, slicked back against my skull in a thick clump. I had a metric crap-ton of scratches and bruises, ranging from purple to yellow. My face was streaked with dirt and I looked so much thinner than I had before. My cheek bones stuck out more than I remembered, and even my nose seemed thinner. I risked peeking down at myself while the elves busied themselves around the room. I could easily see my ribs and the padding that used to sit around my waist had disappeared. I had to admit, though, the last few weeks in the wild had done wonders to tone my muscles. I saw a six-pack starting, something I hadn’t seen on myself in years.

“You are injured,” I jumped, not realizing that one of the females had come so close to me. I wrapped the towel back around myself sheepishly.

“Yeah… Oin… One of the dwarves, stitched it up a few days ago, but I tore it open again when we were escaping the orcs,” I answered. I looked back at my arm and made another face. It was crusted with blood and gaped in a few spots were the stitches had ripped. The area around it was a mottled purplish- black color, the outside a sickly green.

“Well, come into the baths. Take your time to clean up and relax. My sister, Sithiel, has taken your things to be washed, and will return with clothing to wear while you stay here. I will return shortly to tend your wound and, if you would like, to fix your hair.” She smiled warmly at me and, again, I had a feeling that she, like the male elf before, was teasing me. It seemed to be a common trait.

“Alright… What is your name, if I may ask?” I felt like I had been rude up until this point, having not even asked their names.

“Maerwen, my lady.” “May-are-when?” I knew it didn’t sound quite right, but she nodded and gave me a bright smile. “ I am Talya.”

“Well met, lady Talya.” She gave me a small bow and I returned it awkwardly. She gave me one last smile, then turned and left out the doors. I took a glance behind the panel where I had left my ruck sack and was relieved to find that it was still there. I really didn’t want them to find my ammo and accidentally set it off or something.

I climbed the short steps into the bath and stepped in.

I let out an embarrassingly loud groan as the warm water enveloped me. I was *really* glad the elves had left before that particular moment.

Maerwen or her sister, I wasn’t sure which, had left a tray on a small table next to the tub. On it were various glass vials of what I assumed were soaps, shampoos, and lotions, as well as a scrub brush and a few wash cloths. There was also an ornate silver comb and what looked like a pair of nail clippers, complete with a small pick.

I sniffed the various scents, and settling on a mild blossom-scented one, I poured a liberal amount on a cloth and set about scrubbing myself.

It didn’t take long for the water to turn to a dingy grey. Just as I was debating climbing out, the door opened and Maerwen slipped in.

“Oh, and what do we have here? Has an elleth been born from the road-wearied traveller I had set my eyes upon before?” She laughed joyfully and joined me, coming to stand next to the tub.

I smiled good naturedly at her light mocking. I had always thought I was pretty in a girl next door sort of way, certainly nothing exotic. But next to the elves, even the elven males, I felt positively drab.

She had me climb out of the tub and, while the water drained, she cleaned up my arm. She put some sort of cream on it that numbed it, thank god, re-stitched it, then wrapped a linen cloth around it. She re-drew the bath and I settled back into soak my weary body.

We settled into a comfortable silence and she began to help me wash my hair and take out the snarls. She rubbed some sort of oil into it and brushed it until it lay smooth and shiny on my shoulders. I grinned to myself as I thought about the hair products of home, and how the elves would make a killing in the hair care market. Once I imagined Elrond in a Loreal commercial, I had to draw the line before I started crying from laughing so hard. Maerwen laughed along with me, though I am sure she thought I was absolutely insane.

I asked her for something to shave with and, though she glanced at me oddly, she found a straight razor after searching for awhile. She left it on the side of the tub and, explaining she had to be on her way and that she would see me later, left.

I took my time in the bath, carefully cleaning under my finger nails and toe nails. Just before getting out, I shaved my armpits and legs, then used a lotion Maerwen had pointed out on them. I marveled at the softness. After weeks of traveling with the boys, I was loving the simple pleasures of bathing and having smooth legs.

Once out of the tub, I clipped my nails and then set about cleaning up. I felt guilty for leaving muddy prints and dirty towels all over, so I did my best to wipe up the mess I had made and then threw everything in a pile.

It wasn’t long after that Sithiel returned with a few bundles of clothes in hand. She had brought a dress to my dismay, but explained that she had also brought several pairs of pants and tunics, unsure if I would feel comfortable amongst my companions in a dress. Relieved that she thought about such a thing, we set about finding me clothes. I settled on dark brown leggings with a leather belt and a midnight blue long-sleeved tunic. Thank god elves seemed to have also come up with the concept of a built-in bra because I really did not want to be flashing anyone.

I pulled on the only clean pair of underwear remaining from my ruck sack and tugged the leggings in place. They were a close fit, my butt having toned up some with all the running and riding I had been doing, but they were comfortable and easy to move in. I tied the belt off into place and tugged the tunic over my head. It was form fitting without being obscene, thankfully. The material was similar to suede, but so much softer. I tied the neck line, which stopped just above my breast, closed, then straightened it out. The bottom of the tunic was a little long, stopping just a little past my butt.

Sithiel offered to braid my hair in the elvish style, but I declined politely. I really didn’t know how the dwarves would react to my current look, let alone if I decided to adopt an elvish ‘do. Instead, I let it hang free for a change, parting it down the center and pulling it so that it lay down my right shoulder. Finally, Sithiel handed me a pair of black boots. They had been her own at one point, but once she had stopped traveling as much, she found little use for them.

I pulled them on and laced them up. They were supple and comfortable, just like the rest of the outfit. The boots came up to just under my knees and I laughed dryly. On an elf, they were probably only supposed to be calf-high.

The final touch came in the form of a light cloak, the same midnight blue as the tunic.

I stepped back and admired myself in the mirror. Despite the fact that my arm was wrapped and I had little scratches and bruises here and there, I thought I looked pretty damn good. Well. Until Sithiel stood next to me.

“I doubt your companions will recognize you, my lady,” She said.

“Indeed,” I said softly. With my hair down and with clothing that fit my body much more closely then my uniform, I definitely looked like a *girl* and I wasn’t necessarily sure that was a good thing. I had worked really hard to get them to try to think of me as one of the guys, so to speak.

Once I gathered my ruck sack, bow, and quiver, I followed behind Sithiel as she showed me to the guest rooms. The dwarves had ‘politely’ declined, she said, citing that they would rather stay in a group outside. Lord Elrond had insisted, though, that I at least be given a room for privacy if I decided I wanted it. I appreciated the thought and made a note to thank him.

The room was small and simple, with a bed, a small dresser, a table with a basin on it, and another table with chairs. There was also a panel , much like the one in the bath rooms, to change behind. I dropped off my things and followed behind Sithiel once more as she led me towards the common rooms where the dwarves were waiting for food.

As we neared, I could here the loud and rough voices of the dwarves and I smiled. It faltered, however, when I caught sight of my reflection again. It made me nervous, this sudden show of feminism, and I once again hoped that it would not make them think differently of me.

Chapter Text

Sithiel left me standing at the top of a few steps. I took a deep breath and started on down. One by one, the voices of the dwarves before me died down. I glanced up to find every last one of them staring at me. Bilbo, Kili, Fili, Ori, Nori, Bifur, and Bofur had looks of astonishment on their faces. Some of the others, Gloin, Oin, and Balin in particular, looked amused by the reaction of the younger dwarves. Dwalin and Dori looked on with their usual stoic faces where I was involved. Bombur had glanced at me, waved a forkful of whatever he was eating at me, and had returned his attention to the food.

Thorin was the last that I noticed to be watching. His look was appraising and I suddenly wished I could disappear into a hole. I could comfortably belch and cuss in front of them, and joke around with them about their masculinity just fine. Put me in some girly clothes and I wanted to die of embarrassment.

Bifur broke the silence first, growling out something in broken dwarvish that suddenly broke the tension. Everyone laughed, except for Bilbo and I, who looked at each other in confusion.

“Do I even want to know what he said?” I asked wryly, coming to stand at the bottom of the steps.

“He wanted to know if you got to see any of those female elves naked and if you did, would you please describe it?” Nori grinned and I shot Bifur a mocking glare. He waggled his bushy eyebrows at me and I couldn’t help but join in the laughter. Kili and Fili stood and while Fili rearranged the chairs a bit, Kili pulled up a new chair between the two of them. Bofur walked over to me and dropped a low exaggerated bow.

“May I escort m’lady to her seat?” He held up a hand, smirking. I smacked him in the back of the head.

“Knock that shit off, and get me something to drink.”

“Of course, m’lady.” He ducked before I could swat him again and moved to the table that held a large barrel. He grabbed a goblet and filled it to the top with a deep red liquid that I was pretty sure was wine.

Kili and Fili motioned for me to sit between them and I obliged. My glass of wine was passed down the table, sloshing as it went. A large splash landed in Gloin’s lap and he elbowed Bifur, who had been the one to pass it to him. Nori took a large sip of it, to which I yelled at him indignantly. Finally it made its way to me.

“Elvish wine is strong stuff. Are you sure you can handle it?” Bofur asked from across the table with a grin. As an answer, I took a large swallow and, when I found how smooth it was, downed it in one go. Evidently, I had not learned my lesson with Sgt Piers.

Fili clapped me on my back as I wiped my face with the back of my hand. I tossed the goblet back at Nori.

“Since you stole a sip, you can get me a more,” I said as he caught it.

“Oh, no, Talya. That was merely a tax,” He shook his head and tossed it to Ori, who happened to be the closest to the barrel. With a shy smile at me, he refilled the glass and brought it to me so that Nori couldn’t drink more of it.

“Thank you, Master Ori. Finally a dwarf who knows how to treat a lady.”

“Hey now, us dwarves are the epitome of gentlemen when it comes to women-folk. You just have to find us a lady, first.” Bofur cracked. I toasted him and downed my glass again.

“Touché,”

Knowing I would be in some serious shit if I continued to drink that way, particularly on an empty stomach, I began to pull food onto my plate. There was a plethora of leafy greens, fruits, and veggies and a very large platter of fish. I helped myself to a large portion of fish and a spoonful of a gravy-and-mushroom concoction.

I felt like I was starving after living off of such meager rations the past few weeks. I ate two huge helpings of fish, three scoops of the mushrooms, a salad with fresh tomatoes, and a few sweet pastries that had a sweet berry filling.

“Are you sure you are not a hobbit, Talya?” Bilbo asked cheekily, his face rosie from wine.

“I am sure, Bilbo. I think I would have noticed if that particular bit of my anatomy was fuzzy.” I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. Kili snorted into his goblet, sloshing wine down the front of himself. Nori and Bofur roared with laughter and even Dwalin managed a snort.

“Oh god, that came out wrong,” I said. “I meant my feet, you dirty minded bastards.”

Bifur barked something out again and looked at me with wide, innocent eyes.

“Oi, he said ’of course you meant your feet. What other body part could you have possibly meant?”

I flipped him off.

“You know, you keep doing that,” Fili said next to me. “What does it mean?”

I winced again and sipped my wine. I was on my third glass now and I could feel the warmth in the pit of my stomach.

“It just means ’fuck you’, or ’fuck off.” I answered, shrugging.

“And you just say it by doing this?” Kili raised his middle finger to me innocently.

“Yes, you ass,” I said slapping his hand away. He snickered.

I sat back and adjusted my belt. I had eaten entirely too much. I looked around at the table and studied my companions. They all cleaned up rather well, particularly Fili and Kili. For the first time, I thought about how handsome they really were, then kicked the thought right back out of my wine-addled head.

They had all bathed and changed into fresh clothes and I chuckled to myself, wondering if anyone had to bribe Bombur to bathe, or if they simply dragged him, kicking and screaming, into the bath houses. The dwarf loved his food and his rest. Even when we had the opportunity to wash, it took Dwalin to finally complain of his stench for him to actually clean himself. After a moment, I frowned, realizing that Thorin was not there and had left without eating. It had been a rough day and he should have been there, too, relaxing along with the rest of us.

“Come on, lassie. Sing for us!” Gloin called out suddenly. My eyes widened and I looked in his direction.

“Oh, no no no, Master Dwarf. Talya Conner does not sing. Cats in heat make a better racket.” I wasn’t lying. I had been kicked out of a karaoke bar once for my terrible drunken rendition of ’Girls just wanna have fun.’

“Surely you must jest. All pretty ladies sing well!” Nori said with a wink.

“Well, then Nori, you should be able to serenade us much better than I.”

He drunkenly paused, for the dwarf had to have drank half a barrel to himself, and then said an indignant ‘hey!’. I just shook my head and excused myself to find a restroom.

One of the elves who had been helping bring food and wine to and from the dining area showed me where to relieve myself. I answered the call of nature, washed my hands, and, after having a hell of a time pulling my leggings up, adjusted my belt and tugged my tunic back in place.

As I walked back, I noticed Throin standing off in the distance as he so often did. I hesitated for a moment, then let out a long sigh, hoping I wasn’t about to regret bugging him. I made my way back to the dining room and piled a bit of everything on a plate. I poured wine into a goblet and carried that and the plate to where Thorin stood, looking out over the now dark valley.

“Master Oakenshield?” I said softly. I felt uncomfortable around him usually, but without my gear and weapons, and after his sincere thanks for the life of his nephew, I felt naked.

He turned slowly to look at me and, just like his nephews, I realized he cleaned up nice. For once, he did not look angry or annoyed. He just looked tired.

“I noticed you didn’t eat, and well, I figured I’d save you some.” I held out the plate and the goblet. He raised an eyebrow at me, and for a moment I thought he would refuse and tell me to leave.

“Thank you,” He said softly, and I was stunned. He took the plate with one hand and the goblet in another. I stood awkwardly as I watched him lean against the fence of the balcony. He placed his goblet down and popped a bite of fish in his mouth. He chewed a moment, then picked up a roll and tossed it to me. I caught it and looked at him questioningly.

“You are thinner then you were,” It was a statement.

“Now, Master Oakenshield, did you not realize it was rude to comment on a lady’s weight?”

He chewed thoughtfully a moment, and then said something that shocked me.

“I will remember that the next time I come across one.” A ghost of a smile passed his lips and I realized he must have heard the banter from before. I let myself smile a little.

“Will you come back to the company?” I asked.

“Not tonight,” He answered after taking a long sip of wine. He looked back out over the valley.

“Good night, Talya Conner.”

“Good night, Master Oakenshield.”

I turned and walked slowly back to the group, contemplating the journey so far. I wondered how long we would stay in Rivendell and hoped that it would be longer than the day or two depicted in the movies. Not that I would admit it to any of the dwarves, but I was beyond exhausted. I had not pushed myself this hard, even during basic training. I needed the time to recuperate and gain back some weight. I hoped, too, that I would have time to work on my shooting, particularly with what I knew was ahead. Maybe I could even borrow a sword from the armory that could ‘hold up to my hacking’, as Kili had said.

As I reached the group, I had to laugh and shake my head. Nori was standing on top of the table, belting some dwarvish tune out at the top of his lungs with Bofur, Dori, and a very red-faced Gloin singing back up.

“Oi, there ya are lassie. We thought you might have drowned in those fancy elven toilets.” Dori called out, hushing the others as he did so. Obviously, he became much friendlier when he was drunk.

“Come on, Talya. There is still plenty of wine to be had.” Bofur shouted, refilling an empty goblet. I let out a long breath and walked back to my newly filled glass.

“Down the ‘atch!” Nori yelled, holding his goblet up. I picked up mine and we clicked glasses. He threw back the wine and gulped it down greedily. I made a face, then thought, the hell with it. I down the wine and let out a loud belch

“Was that a challenge?” Gloin asked, hiccupping. He made a face, then let out a ridiculously long and low burp. I swear to god, the table shook. Oin, who was sitting next to him, waved his hand in front of his face.

“Gloin, that was in my face!” He complained. Gloin looked at him with one eye shut. He screwed up his face once more and let out another belch, inches away from Oin’s face. Oin sighed disgustedly, then belched right back.

Everyone watched the brothers fight with amusement. I rolled my eyes.

“Is the lady offended?” Fili asked cheekily. I shoved him gently.

“I don’t know, are you?” Fili pushed me back with a laugh. I glared at him and he held up his hands in mock surrender. I kicked him in the shin and he yelped. Kili grabbed me from behind and held me lightly.

“I will avenge you, Brother!” His fingers were posed at my sides.

“Don’t you dare,” I snapped. He grinned and wagged his brows mischievously.

“Are you…. Ticklish?” His fingers dove into my sides and I shrieked. It was NOT a pretty sound. Oin winced and pulled his horn away from his ear, and some of the others, despite the fact that they were laughing, put their hands over their ears.

“By Durins beard, is that what your singing is like?” Fili asked, tilting his seat back as he watched Kili tickle the hell out of me. I was gasping for breath, laughing so hard I had tears running down my cheeks. My foot shot out and hit his chair and he lurched backwards. He hit the ground with a thud and was on his feet quicker than I had thought possible for a dwarf.

“I must regain my honor. Have at you, foe!” Kili held my arms gently while Fili pounced, his fingers digging into my sides.

“Stop, no, stop it dammit… I’m warning you…” The brothers ignored my desperate pleas. I was thrashing wildly now, and I flung a fist out. It hit Kili square in the face and he fell back, shocked. Fili stopped what he was doing to stare at his brother, who was now flat on his ass, holding his nose. It was bleeding.

“Kili, are you okay?” I gasped, feeling really guilty that I actually hurt him.

“Mahals’ balls, Talya, you have a hell of an arm,” Kili said, laughing. He peered at me, still clutching his nose. “All we have to do is get an orc to tickle you, and you’d kick his arse one handed.”

I stood up and held out my hand to him. He grasped my forearm with his left hand, his right still holding his nose, and I pulled him to his feet. Fili was still sitting back on his heels, but he quickly fell over when Kili dropped his hands. Suddenly there was a howl of laughter from the dwarves. Kili’s nose was bloody and he was supporting a now rapidly bruising eye. I bit back a laugh.

“Kili, really, are you alright?” He mock glared at me.

“Your concern would be much more convincing if you would stop laughing between words.”

“Wait… till… Uncle hears… that a woman… gave you a black eye!” Fili said, clutching his sides laughing. Kili winked at me, then flipped his brother off. The peals of laughter were renewed. And I touched Kilis arm in concern, wincing as I took a closer look at his face.

“I am fine, Talya. My pride is a bit damaged, but this is not the first black eye that I have received. It will not be the first and it will not be the last.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you have a really hard head.” I said. My knuckles were starting to ache where they had connected with what I assumed to be his cheek bone.

After that, the party died down. Gloin, Ori, who apparently held his booze about as well as I did, and Bombur passed out at the tables, leaving the elves to try to clean up around them. Everyone else began heading to a large space in a court yard under a tree to lay their heads. I left, too, after a loud round of goodnights from the drunken dwarves.

Once I reached my room, I stripped my cloak off and boots and crawled into bed. The pillows were feather soft, the sheets and blankets warm and inviting. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the waterfall that the soft breeze carried in. Elf-song came and went and for hours, I lay awake. It felt so odd being there in the room by myself. I had come to miss the sounds of the dwarves snoring, punctuated every now and again with the harsh and rasping dwarvish tongue as they muttered in their sleep.

Midnight had come and gone, and I still couldn’t sleep. I sighed heavily and threw back the blankets. I pulled my boots back on and threw my cloak over my shoulders, not bothering to fasten it. I closed my door softly behind me and made my way outside towards the large tree.

“You are still awake?” Thorins voice came from my left and I looked to find his silhouetted form leaning against a pillar. I pulled my cloak tighter around me and shuffled slightly. His head was turned towards me.

“Yeah. I guess I just got used to sleeping near you all. Its too quiet up there,” I nodded my head back towards the guest quarters.

“I heard you gave Kili a black eye.” I flinched.

“Uh yeah… about that…” I stammered

“He deserved it, no doubt,” Thorin said dryly. I stared.

“….Kind of. Fili and him wouldn’t stop tickling me.” My voice sounded childish. He tilted his head back slightly.

“He says you hit hard,” Thorin paused. “Even for a girl.”

We stood regarding each other for a moment, silent. After a moment, Thorin stood up and dusted himself off.

“I will find my rest, I think. There is space near my nephews and our burglar, if you decide you wish to sleep amongst us.”

He inclined his head in a goodnight, and I returned the gesture. I watched him walk a little further off before laying down on his sleeping roll.

I picked my way through the sleeping dwarves, noting that, thankfully, Fili, Kili, and Bilbo had settled well on the other side of Bombur. Bilbo was curled up in a ball, his cloak tucked around him. Fili was sprawled on his back, one arm thrown over his chest the other tucked under his shirt. Kili was on his stomach, snoring softly into the crook of his arm. Even in this light, I could see the purple of his bruised eye. I shook my head.

I threw my cloak on the ground in the small triangle-shaped space between the boys and lay down, using my arms as a pillow. With the familiar sound of the companies’ night time movements and noises as my lullaby, I closed my eyes and finally drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

I woke up to something tickling me nose and I opened my mouth to blow a puff of air out, but only succeeding in inhaling a few strands of what I figured to be hair. Slowly I opened my eyes and found myself curled on my side. Someone’s foot, I assumed Kili’s, was wedged into my spine and Fili’s back was to me, his blonde mane in my face. I spit his hair out of my mouth and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

Fili snorted suddenly and rolled, his face inches away from mine. I pulled a face at his breath and made a noise of disgust. It must have startled Fili because his eyes opened suddenly and his eyes met mine. He let out a very unmanly yelp and jumped back.

“Oi, shut up over there,” Someone muttered grumpily. The voice was so muffled I couldn’t place who it belonged to.

“Where the blazes did you come from?” Fili asked, his hand on his chest. “I thought you were in your room!”

“I was,” I shrugged as I sat up. Kili grunted and stretched, his foot now digging into my thigh. I gave it a shove and he grumbled.

“S’time to get up?” He asked, yawning.

“If you are going to get up, then go so the rest of us can get more shut eye!” Dwalin snapped from his mat. He had rolled onto his back and threw an arm over his face.

“Whats that matter, Dwalin? Are you feeling a bit hung over this morning?” Bofur asked, sitting up. Dwalin chucked something at his head and Bofur ducked. “I suppose that’s a yes,”

I stood up and stretched, looking down to find Bilbo still curled under his cloak, hardly looking to have moved at all during the night. I shook my head.

“I’m going to head on over to the stables. Grey-mane found his way here, and I want to go check him over.” I said, stepping gingerly around Fili and Bilbo. “I’ll meet up with you guys later.”

Fili flung an arm in the air in what I guessed was supposed to be a wave and flopped back over. Kili had already fallen back asleep.

I only got a little lost looking for the stables. Okay, so a lot lost. I ended up having to ask an elf for help, and I was laughed at. A little grumpy after not nearly enough sleep and with a headache to boot, I did not appreciate the elves’ humor at that moment.

Grey-mane had greeted me with a snort and a nicker once he saw me. I spent an hour or more with him, brushing him out and talking to him about nothing in particular. Slowly, Elves began to gather and I said my good byes to the horse with one last pat. I promised to smuggle him a treat later.

We spent most of the next two days relaxing and tending to our gear. Kili showed me how to re-string a bow, and Balin showed me the proper way to sharpen a sword. I sat with Oin and we talked about healing. I had taken a basic combat medic course while in the army and knew the basics. We discussed different techniques of fixing various ailments. The old dwarf surprised me a few times with what he knew.

I spent time with Nori who showed me how to pickpocket. I watched with delight as Bifur made amazing toys and crafts with hardly any effort. Bombur talked of different spices and seasonings. I even sat down with Dori, Gloin, and Dwalin while they discussed different battle techniques. Ori showed me some of his amazingly detailed sketches, and Fili talked about the merits of wielding two weapons versus one. I hardly saw Thorin except for at meal times.

One the third day, Maerwen told me I could use my arm without fear of hurting myself further as long as I didn’t push it. Thanks to the amazing healing abilities of the elves, the gash on the back of my arm was healing nicely and, while it was still bruised and tender, it was no longer swollen and the skin had already begun to knit itself almost completely back together.

“Here,” Fili said. He tossed a sword in its sheath at me and made to grab at it. I failed miserably and it clattered to the ground. I grumbled as I bent over to pick it up. I studied it a moment. The pommel was a simply oval shaped piece of metal that was worn and polished with use. The hilt was wrapped tightly with leather in a criss-crossed pattern for grip. I wrapped my hand around it and tugged the sword from its sheath.

The metal glistened in the sunlight and, while I did not know much about blades, it looked beautifully made for all its simplicity.

“Its’ a bastard sword, so its not quite as long. It is meant for close quarters fighting. Not too heavy, but, if wielded properly, can still take off a limb or a head if need be.” Fili explained as I looked it over.

“And where did you get it from?” I asked, raising an eye brow in his direction. He managed to look a little sheepish. I slipped the sword back into its sheath.

“I may have nicked it from the armory.”

“May have. Mhm.” He smirked and jerked his head for me to follow him. We walked a short while before we came across what I guessed were the training fields. There were not many elves around, but it seemed like after a few days of idleness, most of the dwarves had begun to feel restless. Dwalin and Bifur were sword fighting. Kili was shooting his bow at targets in the distance. Gloin was hacking at a target with his axe. Others were sharpening their blades, or cleaning them.

“You remember your stances, right?” Fili asked, standing opposite of me. He tugged one of his blades free and swung it a few times. I nodded and tugged my own blade back out and tossed the sheath off to the side. I stretched my shoulders a little, then stood with my knees bent. Fili worked me through some basic thrusts and parries for awhile before giving me a wicked grin. Without warning, he slashed his sword at me and I managed to block it, barely. I took a few steps back and glared at him. He advanced and circled me a moment, then came at me again. I pulled my blade up and met his again. He would thrust his sword at me, and I would attempt to block it the best I could. Fili’s whirled behind me and I twisted out of the way, bringing up my blade as I did so. Fili had to jerk himself back to avoid being hit. He nodded his head to me.

“Good, good. You are faster then I expected,” His breath was only coming a little fast, whereas my chest was heaving with the effort to suck in air. “Your blows lack force, so your speed will be your strength.”

He came at me again, faster this time, and it took everything I had to move myself out of the way or to match his strikes. A particularly hard strike caused me to stumble and I fell back on to my ass. I scrambled backwards as Fili advanced and I had to roll to avoid him. I jumped to my feet and whirled around to block his blade and felt myself get pushed backwards despite the fact that I was now using all the force I could muster with two hands to hold him back. I could feel sweat trickling into my eyes and felt my arms begin to waiver.

“Alright, enough,” Fili said, easing up.

He dropped his blade and stepped back. I stumbled now that there was no pressure against my sword and fell on my ass again

“You lasted longer then I though you would, that’s for sure.” He said, slipping his blade back into its place. He reached out a hand to help me up. He pulled me to my feet and I brushed my ass off before glancing up.

I realized then that most of the dwarves had stopped what they were doing to watch us and I groaned to myself. Fili glanced over to Balin and sighed before reaching into his pocket and tossing a small purse at him. Balin caught it and winked at me.

“You bet against me?” I asked, mock insulted. Fili grinned and shrugged. I glared at him and went to pick up the sheath from where I had tossed it. Dwalin offered me a small nod as he walked past me, brandishing his own weapon. I sat down next to Balin and watched as Fili faced off against him. Within seconds, it became painfully obvious to just how easy he had been going on me. My eyes could barely follow the flash of the swords and the whirling forms of the two dwarves.

“Remember, lassie. They have had years to learn this. You have had a few short weeks. You are doing a lot better than most expected,” Balin said kindly from beside me. “And Fili spoke true. You are small of frame and that makes you quite quick. In time, you will gain strength, too. But do not expect it to come all at once.”

“Thank you, Balin. I know it takes time, really. But its just frustrating…,” I motioned towards Dwalin and Fili who had now forgone swords and were grappling. Dwalin had Fili in a head lock and appeared to be giving Fili a noogie. I let out a dry laugh and shook my head.

“What is frustrating…?” Balin prompted.

“I am a female. No matter how hard I try, I will never be as strong as a men, and certainly not as strong as a dwarf. In a fair fight between an orc and I…. I would lose in a heartbeat.”

Balin looked at me seriously for a moment, then his expression softened a little.

“Then the key is to fight dirty.” I smiled a little at that. “Besides, lass. You are becoming quite the archer. With practice, no doubt you will be to fight from afar should we need you to. Should the battle come to you… Well, have no doubt that each of us would protect you the best we could.”

“That’s just it, Balin. I don’t want to have to be protected. I want to be able to take care of myself. I don’t want to be useless.” My voice broke slightly and I clenched my teeth, dropping my head. Balin touched the back of my hand and I looked up at him.

“Have you forgotten that you saved the life of Kili? I doubt that he, his brother, or indeed, Thorin find you useless.” I narrowed my eyes and wondered how he knew. Everyone except for Thoin, Kili, and myself had already been down into the cavern when I had taken my shot.

“Did you think Kili did not tell us?” Balin asked. “He practically bragged and claimed it was his teaching that allowed you to make the shot.”

I laughed despite the fact that I could feel tears threatening.

“Then I guess I shouldn’t tell him I was aiming for the orc.” Balin laughed merrily at that and patted my back. He stood up and, offering a small bow, headed off to rescue poor Fili.

Bilbo appeared next to me and handed me a flask. I gratefully accepted it and took a long swig of water. It had begun to get warm and I could still feel the sweat dripping down my face, back, and other more unsavory places.

“You are a lot braver than I,” he said after accepting back the flask. “Going against those thick headed brutes.”

I laughed and put an arm around his shoulder.

“Bravery has nothing to do with it, dear hobbit. It is one hundred percent pure stubbornness.”

We shared a laugh and for awhile we sat in silence as the dwarves took turns knocking each other silly. At midday we stopped for lunch and once we had eaten our fill, the elves offered to show us to the pools. A few of the dwarves glanced at each other and grinned. It seemed as though there was a unanimous decision to spend the afternoon there and I rolled my eyes at the child like excitement that some of the dwarves, particularly the younger bunch, had. I told them I would meet up with them and went to my room to change.

Over the past few days I had accumulated a few sets of clothes. Another set of leggings, a shorter pair of pants that reminded me of capris, two more tunics, much more practical and less feminine then the one I had worn before, a long flowing night gown that I refused to wear, and the dress that Sithiel had brought me that first day. I also had been given clean underwear, socks, and very simplified bras, one of which reminded me of a sports bra at home, except thicker. Thank god, too. If it got too cold, I might poke an eye out.

I had asked Maerwen what was acceptable to wear to the pools and she had laughed mischievously. She implied that, normally, very little was worn to such a place, but if that was not to my comfort level, then anything would do. I thanked her, suddenly fumbling at the thought of being naked in front of the group. Kili, Fili, Nori and Bofur would no doubt flirt endlessly and crack dirty jokes while the others probably wouldn’t be able to look me in the eye. I felt an uncomfortable jolt when I thought of Thorin.

I decided on the sports bra and the short pants. It covered up enough for modesties’ sake but had little enough fabric that it wouldn’t weight me down in the water. After grabbing a fluffy towel from my nightstand, I made my way outside, using the loud yells, laughs, and curses from the dwarves as my guide.

My throat went dry when I reached the pools. It was basically just a huge stream dug out with smaller pools built off to the sides. It was a beautiful area, but that was not why my mouth had gone dry and why I had suddenly ceased being able to think coherently.

Elven men in various stages of dress, or, rather, undress, were laughing merrily as they swam in the stream. Their golden bodies slipped through the water easily like otters as their hair fanned out around them, or stuck wetly to well toned bodies.

“You are just about as bad as Gloin!” Dori called out from the pools that him and the rest of the company occupied. I turned away from the elves, embarrassed that I had been caught so blatantly checking them out. Most of the dwarves were down to loose shirts and trousers. A few went shirtless, like Dwalin, who was snoozing in the shade and Ori and Nori, who were riding on the shoulders of Fili and Kili. Bifur was off to the side, cheering them on as the wrestled. The sight didn’t bother me, though. We had all, at one point or another, seen each other in our underclothes. It was impossible not to when we had traveled together so long.

After thinking over Dori’s comment, I looked over for Gloin, who was sitting in the shallows, re-braiding his hair. I caught him occasionally glancing off into the distance where a bunch of elleths were laughing and swimming. I shook my head and thought of how, much later, his son Gimli would feel the same way about elven women and I grinned.

Some of the others were doing laps. Even Thorin was there, though he was still dressed and had just a bare foot in the stream, watching the antics of his nephews with a smile on his face, puffing on a pipe every once and awhile. I peered over the waters edge, surprised, for some reason, with the perfection of the bank. It looked like one of those man-made ‘natural’ pools from home. I gingerly stuck a toe in the water and, once I realized that I was not nearly as cold as I was expecting, tossed my towel to the ground and hopped in.

I was adjusting to the water slowly when a wave of water crashed hit my back. I squealed loudly, not expecting the cool water and whipped around. Nori had fallen off of Fili’s back and came to the surface, sputtering. Ori cheered and jumped off of Kili’s back into the water. I grinned and leaned back against the ledge.

Kili and Fili tugged off their shirts and traded places with Nori and Ori. I tried to keep in mind that they were friends, then said fuck it and admired their toned bodies. Where the elves were willowy and slim with perfect skin and only the hint of muscles, the dwarves were well muscled and sculpted. Each one had scars of varying sizes and shapes that marred their skin I had been surprised to find that the dwarves were not nearly as hairy as I had expected. Some of the older dwarves were fairly well coated with a thick coat, and don’t get me started on Nori, whos passion for oddly groomed hair extended past his shoulders, but some of the others were no hairier than some of the men I had seen. Dwalin, I had been surprised to find, was damn near hairless on his chest and back.

The afternoon passed pleasantly under the sun. Even after this mornings rigorous sword fight with Fili, I was feeling fairly well refreshed. Dori and Bifur and even Balin joined Kili, Fili, Bofur, and Ori in their wrestling match, and the rest of us watched on, laughing at their antics. Even Thorin managed a hearty laugh when Bofur flipped off of Bifurs back, his pants catching on the portion of axe still stuck in Bifur’s head. The trousers came clean off and fell over Bifurs eyes and Bofur had fallen quite naked into the water. I shut my eyes tightly and turned away while the others teased him and Dori complained of his bleeding eyes.

We were called to dinner and I choose that night to sit next to Ori, who had promised to show me a sketch he had done of Rivendell. I complimented him on his skills and he had blushed brightly. He had asked me about my hobbies, and that turned into a question-and answer session where we all seemed to talk an awful lot about nothing.

Once dinner was over, I helped carry Bilbo, who had, it seems, spent most of his day at the library, to the sleeping area. Balin and I left him on top of his sleeping mat, snoring away happily and we met back up with the rest of the dwarves who now sat in front of a large bonfire. I listened as stories were told and songs were sung. As the night passed, everyone began to slip away to bed until only Balin, Thorin, and I remained. Yawning sleepily, I bid them good night, and left them softly discussing something in rapid dwarvish.

I made my way back to the tree and was about to settle down when I realized that someone had brought down an extra sleeping roll and cloak down in my now customary spot near Fili, Kili, and Bilbo.

Chapter Text

The next two weeks passed quickly I had resumed a similar training schedule as when we had been traveling. First thing in the morning, Fili, along with Balin, instructed me on sword fighting. After lunch Kili and I would have target practice. Most afternoons we spent at the pools, and most evenings were spent by a large bonfire. Day by day, I could feel myself get stronger and, when I looked in the mirror, I could see a subtle strength growing where there had not been before.

I knew that our time in Rivendell was drawing to a close when, one night while I was walking to my room, I overheard Gandalf and Thorin arguing about Thorins’ map. Gandalf had not been around for most of our visit here to Rivendell, and I wondered if Thorins’ temper was not to blame for the wizards absence. I kept my distance as Gandalf, Lord Elrond, Balin, and Thorin swept past, heading towards Lord Elronds’ study. I was almost to my room when I Maerwen approached me.

“My lady Talya, your presence is requested.” She urged me forward and I frowned. She was unusually frazzled.

She led me to a part of Rivendell I had never been in before. It was a small garden tucked back out of the way of the main paths. Large trees with low, sweeping branches lined the grassy area, the way only lit by the moon and stars above. I cursed as I stumbled over tree root that Maerwen had so gracefully avoided. She reached out and steadied me, before bringing me towards the center of the grove. There, a glowing figure stood.

It took my eyes a minute to adjust and when they did, I felt my heart drop and tears gathered in my eyes. The woman was beyond stunning. Her skin was white marble and flawless., her hair a pale gold of spun silk. Eyes of the palest blue peered at me from under impossibly long lashes. Her face was heart shaped, her lips lush, her nose an elegant slope. Her figure, like most elves, was willowy and slim. She wore a long flowing dress of fresh snow that continued on past her in a delicate train. A silvery crown sat atop her head, an intricate necklace adorned her throat, a simple ring on her long and graceful fingers. Her feet were bare, and as she stepped towards me, she seemed to float.

Maerwen bowed her head low and backed away, leaving me alone with this angelic creature.

I sunk to my knees in the grass as she neared and I was sure I had died.

“Talya Conner,” Her voice was smooth and pure, flawless. She smiled at me delicately and I bowed my head low.

“Lady Galadriel,” my words were the barest of whispers. Tears slid down my face and she knelt elegantly before me to tuck her hand under my chin. She tilted my head up and I looked searchingly into her eyes.

“I have much desired to speak with you since first I laid eyes upon you in my mirror,” She said softly, wiping away a tear in a very motherly and tender fashion.

“So strange that the Valar have brought you here, to change the fates of your companions.”

I struggled to find my voice.

“So you… know that the line of Durin falls?” I asked, my voice a whisper.

“ It is but one of the paths I have Seen,” She answered, tilting her head to look at me. She reached down and took my now calloused hands in her unspoiled and smooth ones. She slowly pulled me to stand before her and she blinked slowly as she appraised me.

“It is not often that the Valar choose one of the race of man to accomplish such a task. You are quite special,”

I swallowed and shook my head.

“Why did they? Choose me, I mean,” I asked softly, voicing aloud a question I had been wondering since I first accepted that this was real.

“Of that, I can not tell you. Even I can not answer for the reasoning of the Valar,” She smiled softly at me. “But from what Gandalf has told me, and from what I have glimpsed, I can begin to see why. You have strength, and courage. Your stubbornness matches that of a dwarf. Your compassion, an elf. Your resilience, a hobbit. And not least of all, it is because there is something within you that can save Thorin Oakenshield and his kin from their fate.,”

“What?” I asked, breathless.

“That, Talya Conner, you will have to find out for yourself.” She turned from me and began to walk. I fell into step next to her and for awhile, we walked in silence. I was stunned. I could never have imagined myself in the presence of such a being and my heart ached.

We stopped before a small table and Galadriel reached into a small satchel that lay there. She pulled something out and held it in her hand a moment before turning to me.

“I fear that you will face many trials on your road ahead. Sacrifices will be made before the end, but you have a strength in you, sweet child. Never forget that when the path grows dim.”

Galadriel took my hand in hers and pressed something into it. I looked down, frowning, and opened my hand.

Suddenly, I felt as though I had been dipped in ice. In my hands were my dog tags that I had thought I had lost.

“How…?” I asked softly. I could not tear my eyes away from the metal in my hands.

“I watched your struggle in the flood, watched as Gandalf worked so diligently in his magics to bring you forth. When your body and soul was firmly ensnared within this plane, I turned to walk from my mirror when something caught my eye. Upon reaching in, I found these. I knew then I must journey forth to Imladris and speak with Gandalf the Grey, and the head of his order, Sarumon the white.”

I clutched at my tags and looked up at her suddenly at the mention of Sarumon. I wished so suddenly to be able to tell her everything that was to come. It was some what of a burden, knowing that I could so easily save or destroy this world depending on my actions and words. I felt tears well in my eyes again.

“Hush now, Talya. You can not concern yourself with the fates of all those in Middle Earth. Time and life goes on as it will and such events that are reflected within your eyes will come to pass. The pain you wish to spare others is noble, but even I know that certain fates will be met, whether you will them or no.” Her voice was sad and in it reflected the pain she felt at the many lives that had come and gone in her time here in Middle Earth.

We walked silently back towards the path and she stopped just shy of the path. I turned to look at her again, and for a moment panicked at the thought of never seeing her again.

“The time you thought of earlier is near. Two nights hence, Thorin Oakenshield will leave from a South-western path into the wilds beyond the Misty Mountains.” She smiled at me again and touched my face softly. “Our paths may yet cross again.”

She bowed her head ever so slightly, “Alàmenë.”

I bowed my head deeply in return and turned to face the direction I came. When I looked back, Galadriel was gone.

I walked slowly, still clutching my tags in my hands. My mind was replaying my time with the Lady Galadriel over and over again, and my heart ached. As reassuring as her words were that I was indeed meant to be there and that she believed the Valar had chosen correctly, the enormity of my task ahead weighed heavily on me.

I spent the next few hours wandering through Rivendell, my thoughts too hectic and jumbled for me to be able to rest. When I finally became too tired to continue, I sat down on a stone bench and stared once more at my tags. I thumbed my fingers over their inscription and I thought of Alicia and the others for the first time in days. I felt my throat constrict at the thought of never seeing them again. I pulled the tags over my head and settled them in the familiar spot between my breasts, the chain a reassuring weight around my neck. I put my head in my hands and sat for awhile like that.

“What are you doing out here?” I jerked my head up at the harsh tone and my eyes landed on Thorin. Judging by the foul mood he was in, I assumed that he had just gotten back from his meeting with Elrond and Gandalf.

“I needed time to think,” I answered. I didn’t bring up my visit with Galadriel, knowing he would bristle at the mention of elves.

“And what, might I ask, would you need to time to think about? Home? The elves that you so lustily stared upon earlier?” He snapped. “If you find them so appealing then by all means, stay here. The company will be departing soon and since you no longer are in need of Gandalf to guide you through the wild, you will have no business accompanying us.”

My jaw dropped at his words and I bristled.

“I would have thought by now that you would realize I am not so easy to get rid of.” I snapped back, so very angry suddenly. I ignored his comment about the elves.

“And I would have thought by now that you would realize when you were not wanted!” His voice was loud now, his voice a snarl. “You are nothing but a joke to my nephews. A childhood playmate they will soon outgrow and leave behind. Balin indulges you the way he would a dwarfling, toddling about with your toy sword. You are a passing amusement to the rest, no more. When we leave you behind, and make no doubt, Lady Conner, we will leave you behind, not a single one of us will glance back at you and wonder how you fare! So go now, and do as a woman should and find yourself whatever manner of a husband that will have you. Go home and bother us no more!”

His shoulders were heaving and I sat stunned. His words tore through me and left me breathless. After all that I had been through in the past few weeks, after all that had been said and done, after everything Galadriel had told me…. It was entirely too much. I stood up and swallowed back the sobs I knew were coming.

“Good night, Master Oakenshield,” I said as evenly as possible. I turned around, doing an almost complete about face, and walked away, leaving Thorin standing alone.

I broke out into a jog and soon, a full on run. By the time I reached my room and shut the door behind me, great wracking sobs tore through my throat. Damn him for saying such things to me. Damn him for making me doubt myself, and the affection that the others showed me.

I cried into my pillow for a long time. I cried for the friends I had lost. I cried for the life I had had. I cried for the enormity of the task that was set upon me I sobbed and sobbed until at last, no more tears came.

Chapter Text

I shamefully avoided the company the next day. I felt an empty bitterness within that should have scared me and it made me even angrier that Thorin’s cutting words had hurt me so badly.

So, instead of going about the routine I had built over the last couple of weeks, I began to make preparations. The anger I felt towards Thorin burned in my gut and it was almost enough to say ‘forget this’ and leave them to their fates. But I had grown close to Kili and Fili, to kindly Balin, and sweet Ori. Traveling with them, fighting with them, and laughing with them every day for the past almost two months had forged a bond between myself and them, despite what Thorin would have me believe, and I could not let them continue on alone. The near death of Kili had unsettled me further, and I remembered the fact that Gandalf would not have made it back in time to save them from the Trolls, and that I had given Bilbo the idea to stall. I felt an uncomfortable tightness in my chest whenever I thought about it, and knew in my heart that when the company set out from Rivendell the next night, I would be with them.

The first thing I did was to go through my ruck sack. I was still wearing borrowed clothing, so my two sets of ACU’s were clean and neatly folded next to it, along with both pairs of boots. I knew the elves had attempted to mend the set I had been wearing when I went through the flood and arrived here, but there was only so much they could do with a material they were unfamiliar with. I sighed and left them to the side, keeping the set that were basically untouched in the keep pile. Sithiel had generously replaced my socks and underwear that had been falling apart, so I had six sets of one, and three pairs of the other. My bra had been shot, too, and since I had been given that comfortable sports-bra type thing, I decided to toss those, too. My cover I tossed into the garbage pile. The cloak Becka had given me was packed, the cloak I had borrowed from Gandalf stayed out.

I still had two pairs of boots, and agonized over packing both. The boots I wore would hold up well under traveling and there really shouldn’t need to take both with me. After debating for awhile, I tossed my lighter weight boots in the keep pile and tossed the winter boots off to the side. The tent cover I decided to keep, since it was small enough to really not be of notice, the same with my poncho. The two canteens were not debatable. I made a mental note to wash them out and fill them before tomorrow night. My 550 cord I kept, as well as my swiss army knife. My ammo I set off to the side, deciding I would worry about it later.

The toilet paper I had had was long gone and I mentally lamented leaving Rivendell and having to start wiping with grass and leaves. The baby wipes were too few to bother packing. As much as I would have loved to keep the deodorant and toothpaste, I knew we would be set up against the wargs again and did not want the foreign sent to allow them to track us that much better.

I picked up the last thing to be packed and paused over it. It was my little baggie of photos and letters. I had taken them out now and again just to remind myself of home and I felt a wave of longing enter me. I opened the bag and spent a little time thumbing through the photos and pausing to read a few of the personal letters I had kept.

In the end, I placed everything back tenderly into its bag and packed that too in my ruck sack, not being able to part with it.

I pulled my cloak over my shoulders and grabbed the little purse of gold that Gandalf had given to me, the purse fuller now that I had added coin to it from the Trolls‘ horde. I looked down the ammo and, coming to a decision, I sought out Gandalf. I found him with Lord Elrond on a balcony and I debated interrupting them. In the end, I didn’t have to.

“We were just speaking of you,” Gandalf said, turning to face me. Lord Elrond smiled mildly at me and they waved me in.

“I apologize if I have interrupted, my lord,” I bowed my head to Lord Elrond and he shook his head.

“No, not at all. We were merely discussing your presence within the company. It is I who feel as though I should offer an expression of regret. Rarely is it that we receive such guests here in Imladris, and it feel as though my hospitality has been remiss. I have yet to speak with you and welcome you here in my home and talk with you of yours, and how your relatives fare, and other such niceties that friendly strangers often find themselves discussing.”

“You have been quite gracious, Lord Elrond, in your welcome already. Where I am from, there are few who would so openly welcome strangers into their midst, and yet you have done so freely, expecting nothing in return.”

“Well said,” Gandalf nodded his head to me. “Will you sit with us?”

“Actually, I am in middle of running some errands. I find that I have precious little in the way of supplies and I would like to be ready in advance for when we set out. If I may ask a favor?”

“What would you as of us?” Lord Elrond asked, curious now.

“I have something from my home. Something that could be quite dangerous if used wrongly, or if it fell into the wrong hands. I am sure you would be able to dispose of it properly.”

I felt both of them eyeing me curiously, so I produced the two magazines full of ammo. I placed one on the table between Gandalf and Elrond and carefully slid a bullet out from its place.

“This is a bullet, and it is full of something called gun powder. If struck improperly or if heated up, it will explode.” I explained simply. I wasn’t sure how much they would really understand if I tried explaining the specifics, so I kept it simplified. Lord Elrond eyed it warily, then nodded.

“I will ensure that it is disposed of properly, and that no harm comes to those who handle it.”

“Thank you, my lord,” I bowed my head again. “I will take my leave now, if I may.”

Lord Elrond watched me curiously again before smiling.

“Perhaps we will talk again, Lady Talya. Know that you shall ever be welcome here.” I bowed low again and thank him. I bid them both a farewell, and headed down to where I knew there were a few merchants. I picked up a new string for my bow, a whet stone of my own, a small satchel of healing herbs, and a few linen bandages. Every time I tried to pay with coins, the elves would shake their heads and merrily insist that I take what they had to offer freely.

I stopped off for lunch and decided I would make the stable my next stop. Bringing a few sweet fruits with me, I went to visit Grey-mane.

The horse was happy to see me, and happier still that I had brought him treats. I smiled sadly at him as he munched happily and brushed my hands off when the last piece of fruit was gone. He head-butted me and I scratched his neck.

“Thank you, Grey-mane. You’ve been a good friend.” I said quietly. He blew air out softly and lipped at my arm. “Yeah, I’ll miss you too.”

I made my visit short, not sure if I could really stand a long goodbye, particularly since I wasn’t sure I’d ever see him again. Grey-mane had been my first real friend in Middle-earth and I would miss him.

It was later then I expected when I got back to my rooms. Sithiel was there with a bundle of clothes and another two parcels that I couldn’t identify.

“Good evening, Sithiel. How do you fare?” I had picked up the rhythm of their speech fairly well, if I said so myself.

“Well, Talya.” She answered with a small smile.

“What do you have here?” I asked, coming to sit next to her on the bed.

“Forgive me if we seem overly bold in this, but my sister and I have taken it upon ourselves to have clothing made for you. Things that will hold up well in your future travels.” I was touched at the gesture and watched wordlessly as she unfolded the clothes.

There were two pairs of leggings, one a charcoal grey, the other dark brown. Each one was simply made and tailored perfectly. Three shirts followed, one midnight blue one very similar to the one I had worn there the first night, a dark, forest green one that looked similar to what I had seen some of the males wearing around, but obviously cut for a females shape, and a dark brown one that was twin to the green. I touched them hesitantly and smiled.

“Thank you, Sithiel. That was very sweet and generous of you.” She smiled warmly, then hesitated a second before tugging at a second, bulkier bag. She reached inside and pulled out two black leather arm bracers. They looked familiar, but I knew that they were not elvish in design. She put them on briefly to show me how they fit, and I wordlessly took them, looking at her with confusion and she only smiled as she then reached into the bag and tugged out a brand new sheath for the sword I was using, which she passed to me.

“I was approached by a dark haired, young looking dwarf with braids, and an older dwarf with white hair. They insisted I give these to you.”

I felt my heart swell and I ran my fingers over the soft and supple leather. Both bracers and sheath were inlaid with dwarvish designs and the craftsmanship reminded me of Bifur’s steady hand.

“And lastly, this.” She picked up the last parcel and handed it to me. “Gandalf asked me to provide you with traveling provisions that would not quickly spoil. There is lembas, jerky, and some traveling cakes made of fruits and poured fat.”

I nodded slowly and sat awkwardly with Sithiel. I didn’t know how to thank her for her and her sisters kindness over the past few weeks and, now that I knew I was leaving soon, I was having a tough time coming up with words. She patted my arm.

“Come now, word of your departure has not yet been spoken of, and you may yet have a fortnight here in our elvenhome.” If only she knew.

“Thank you, Sithiel, again, for everything.” She smiled brightly and bid me a good evening.

That night I took a light supper brought to me by Maerwen. She had shyly asked me if I had received the clothes and I nodded, thanking her. While we sat and ate, we talked about the different her own brief travels. When she brought up Lothlorien, I smiled at the passion in which she discussed the Golden Wood. She told me, too, of an elf there that she had noticed, and how she planned to travel there in the autumn to visit him and his kin.

We bid each other goodnight when the moon rose in the sky, and I spent some time re-packing my bag. I was truly touched at the sisters’ gesture of friendship and knew I would miss their companionship. As much as I had come to enjoy the company of Bilbo and the dwarves… Thorin excluded… being able to talk to another female was nice.

After lovingly running my hands over the bracers and trying them on, I decided it would be best to make it an early night. I snuggled myself up under the blankets and hummed something softly as I drifted off to sleep. It wasn’t until I was nearly asleep that I realized it was the song of the Lonely Mountain.

I woke up surprisingly late the next day. It was already mid-morning when I rolled out of bed. Maerwen or Sithiel must have come and gone, because a small bowl of something that looked suspiciously like a fruit parfait sat on small table in the corner. I ate slowly, enjoying what I figured to be my last taste of a good meal before setting out to the bath houses. I was determined to set off on the quest clean, dammit.

I scrubbed myself raw, shaved, trimmed my nails short, and washed my hair until it squeaked clean. I let myself relax and soak for awhile, trying to relax the tension I felt as the departure of the company drew near.

Once I climbed out of the rapidly cooling tub, I pulled on a clean pair of underwear and the elven bra, then the charcoal colored leggings, the green tunic, and the second cloak, which was nearly the same shade of dark grey as the pants. My hair I twisted up into a towel, much to the endless amusement of many of the elves who saw me like that, and headed to my room. I opened my door and jumped in surprise when I saw Gandalf standing there.

“My apologizes for startling you, Talya,” He said turning to look at me. He stared a moment, and attempted to hid a smile once he took in my towel-wrapped hair.

“Does no one else dry their hair likes this?” I asked, exasperated. I pulled the towel from my hair and let it drop to the floor.

“Ah, -ahem-, not that I have seen,” He coughed back a chuckle and then regarded me quietly for a moment.

“Your presence has been missed, Talya. They know heated words were spoken between Thorin and yourself.”

“Heard that, did they?”

“Indeed. Our dear hobbit fears that you will abandon the quest in favor of staying here.”

“And of the rest? Do they even care?” I asked, wincing when the words came out harsher then I intended. Gandalf sighed softly.

“Do not let the words of a bitter and pained dwarf make you doubt yourself, or the loyalty of the dwarves with whom you have shared so much with, in so little time. Kili, Fili, Balin, Ori, and Bifur spent much time crafting those things,” He said, gesturing to the bracers and sheath that I had laid carefully out on the foot of my bed. He picked up the bracers and handed them to me. I caressed them softly before slipping them on over my forearms. Gandalf helped me tie them in place, then spoke with a smile. “They traded gladly with the elves for the materials, and they spent most of last night carefully working the leather.”

I closed my eyes and let out a long breath.

“Im sorry, Gandalf. I know that most of them think of me as a friend. I am just so very… angry at what Thorin said. I have worked so damn hard to fit in here,”

“And you have done remarkable.” He held out his hand to me, then pulled me over to the mirror. I hardly recognized myself. My hair was down around my face in wet locks. My skin was tanned from the weeks swimming and bathing in the pools. My shoulders were more broad, my legs and arms thicker. With the leggings, tunic, bracers and cloak, I looked liked I had stepped out of a story. Or, rather, into one. Even the thin chain of my dog tags did not look out of place.

“You are stronger then you were. More determined. There is a fire in your eyes that was not there when first we met.”

I merely swallowed and nodded mutely.

“You have made quite the impression on not only the dwarves and Bilbo, but on many of the elves here. I have heard some speak of your love for animals. How they have caught you speaking with Grey-mane and the other horses stabled with him. They have found you petting and sneaking food to many of the dogs, birds, and small animals that make Rivendell their home. Others spoke of how well you carried yourself, particularly for a mortal woman. Lets not forget the sisters Sithiel and Maerwen. They have come to enjoy your company, and I know they will be sad when you leave here.

“Finally, you made an impression on the Lady Galadriel, for never would she have gifted you with this if you had not.” With that, he reached into his robe and, with must have been magic, he pulled out a shining bow of golden wood. My heart stopped and I reached out reverently, hesitating to touch it. “It is of the Galadhrim. Never before has a mortal been give one. You could not ask for a better bow.”

Gandalf passed it of to me, and I picked it up, surprised at how light it was. I turned it over in my hands, afraid that I would break it.

“The Lady of Lorien, Lord Elrond, and myself…. We are the only three who know how you came to be here in Middle-earth, and know that you were taken from your old life and thrust into this one so very suddenly. Instead of passing into death and being allowed to take your rest in the halls of your forbearers, you were made to carve out a life for yourself here. You have surprised us all, my dear. Whatever may come, know that you have done well and that you have made me proud.”

I embraced him then, carefully holding the bow out to the side. I had so desperately needed to hear the words he spoke. He gently hugged me back, then dropped his arms as I stepped back. We stood there in silence for awhile as I looked over at my new bow in awe.

“When will the company depart?” Gandalf asked and I looked up at him startled. He gave me a knowing smile. I would have asked how he had figured it out, but I had a feeling I knew what his answer would be. He was a wizard, after all.

“Tonight, in the early hours.” I answered after a moment. He nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

“You have your things packed, then?” I nodded in answer.

“Gandalf… in the mountains outside of Rivendell….” I chewed on my lip a second. “We will run into the King of Goblin town. Two days, maybe three. If you don’t come…” I trailed off.

“Have no fear, Talya. I have no intention of abandoning this quest.” He touched my shoulder. “I will see you in a few days time. Rest while you can. I daresay you will need it.”

Chapter Text

The evening passed quickly. My heart was in my throat the entire time, hoping that I wouldn’t miss the companies’ departure. I re-packed my things about a dozen times before finally giving up. I drew back my new bow over and over, amazed at how easy it was to do so. I sat down and sharpened , then polished the sword Fili had stolen for me until the edge was razor sharp and I could easily cut through a piece of parchment. Once that was through, I made a neat pile of everything I was to leave behind on my freshly made bed. I tried to write a note to Sithiel and Maerwen to thank them and say goodbye, but nothing I wrote sounded right.

When it was near midnight, I saw a large moth flutter into my room and land very purposefully on my hand. It startled me and I tried to shake it off. It held on for dear life and, once it started squeaking angrily, I realized that maybe it was a sign of some sort.

Then I nearly smacked my head. Gandalf had always used moths to call the eagles in the movies. Apparently he used them as other means of communication, too.

I stopped shaking my hand and mumbled a sheepish apology to the poor moth, who fluttered angrily in my face before taking off out the window. I let out a long, nervous breath, and stood up from my bed.

I hauled my pack over my shoulders and settled it into place. My quiver followed, then my bow. I tightened my belt and tied the sheath of my sword to it, adjusting the sword so it was easily accessible. My k-bar I strapped to the outside of my thigh. I flexed my fingers and glanced at myself in the mirror before I quickly and quietly left my room.

I walked slowly but surely towards the south-western path that I had scouted out the day before. I kept my head down, trying not to draw attention to myself as I neared. Thankfully, there were few elves around.

I began to walk quickly now as I set foot on the small stone path that led out of Rivendell. I glanced behind me, wondering if they had set out yet and figured it didn’t much matter. I could either catch up with them, or I could wait just outside the path.

As I walked on, I began to hear the soft rustling of cloth and the whisper of voices.

“…Master Bilbo, I suggest you keep up.” Thorin’s deep voice was the first thing I could make out.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Talya?” Bilbos voice came anxiously. “Did anyone even tell her we were leaving?”

I crept closer and waited, watching Thorin hesitate. A very brief look of something flashed across his eyes before he let out a breath.

“Shes…” As soon as he started to speak, I stepped out of the shadows.

“…Right here.” I finished his sentence. Everyone turned to look at me and I knew they were stunned, not only with my presence, but everything, from the way I dressed to the weapons I carried.

After a few moments of an awkward silence, I smiled tightly.

“What, noone has any coin to claim?” I asked, jokingly. Balin’s face broke out into a wide smile, and I swore that I saw his eyes mist over.

“It seems, dear lass, that noone was foolish enough to bet against you.”

I smiled genuinely this time, and there was around of welcomes from the dwarves and Bilbo ventured so far as to hug me.

Thorin stood at the head of the group, a mild look of surprise now crossing his face as he regarding the scene carefully. I ignored him and settled myself between Kili and Fili as usual, and we began to walk.

We stayed quiet for awhile, not wanting to risk alerting the elves. My heart ached a little as Rivendell grew further and further away. It had come to feel like home in the past few weeks and I was going to miss it.

The light of dawn came and went. It was near mid-day when finally a spell seemed to break, and quiet chatter began amongst the dwarves.

“You had us worried, Talya. We thought for a moment you might not come.” Ori said softly from behind me. Thorin hesitated at the front of us and I frowned.

“I may not be an official member of this company,” I stated, trying to not snap at poor Ori, “But I feel I have a duty to carry out….. Besides, who would keep you guys out of trouble?”

Most of them chuckled dryly, and I looked down at my wrists before hesitantly speaking.

“By the way… I wanted to thank you guys. For the bracers and the sheath. They are… beautifully made.”

Fili, Kili, Balin, Bifur, and Ori smiled brightly.

“No thanks are necessary,” Balin said, waving a hand back at me. “I won’t have it said that we don’t properly out fit one of our own.”

He seemed to flash a look at Thorin, but Thorin ignored him.

“Exactly. Besides…” Kili started, then lowered his voice and continued on softly “I owe you my life.”

“And where would I be without my brother?” Fili clapped his brother on the back, probably quite a bit harder than necessary, smiling warmly at me. Bifur just smiled and reached over to awkwardly pat my arm. Ori just beamed.

“I see that you have acquired something more than a few bits of armor and leather, lassie.” Oin said from my left, his ear trumpet in hand. He looked at my bow and I coughed slightly, clearing my throat.

“Ah… yeah.. It was a gift. From Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien.” A hush went through the dwarves and I winced mentally.

“Well, then. If your bow is anything like Thorin and Gandalf’s swords, or my own, then I am sure it is finely made.” Bilbo said genially. Kili hesitated.

“Can I see it?” He asked after a moment. I bit back a smirk and tugged the bow gently from my back, passing it to him. He was silent as he looked it over, obviously trying to find some flaw in it, since it was made by elves, after all. He drew it back a few times, then looked over it again, trying so hard not to be impressed.

“Its alright, for an elven bow,” He said, a little too casually as he handed it back to me. He looked at me and frowned. “What?”

“You,” I said, grinning again. “ ‘Its alright, for an elven bow.’” I mocked teasingly.

“Hey! That was pretty good!” Fili said brightly. “For a second there, I thought she was really you!”

Kili and I looked at each other, then back to Fili.

“Hey now, my voice is not that high-pitched.” Kili complained.

“I am not sure what you were trying to imply, Master Fili. But I do not sound like a male.” I added.

“No, but you sure belch like one.” Gloin said from the back of the group. I rolled my eyes and for awhile, we teased each other. It felt good to be back with them, and I felt slightly ashamed of the fact that I hid from them for two days.

We made good distance from Rivendell that afternoon. We snacked as we hiked and the dwarves began to talk about the things they had seen in the elvenhome. I listened more than I talked, finding it interesting how their perception of the elves had changed, even if it was only slightly. I knew the animosity between the races was deep, but I also knew that they would need help from the elves in the end.

Kili and I broke off from the group at one point to find what game we could, leaving our gear with Fili and Ori. Dwalin and Gloin had complained loudly about the lack of good, red meat off the bone while with the elves and, while I had enjoyed the fare served quite a bit, I felt the same. I was craving a big, thick steak with sautéed mushrooms and onions. Or a slice of the prime rib my mom had always made a Christmas. Hell, at this point, I would have settled for a freakin Big Mac.

We stalked through the woods quietly. Kili managed to take a large rabbit as it burst from under the brush not far in. A little further out, we both crouched down as Kili pointed out a herd of small roe deer. He smirked slightly and jerked his head in the direction of the deer. I raised a brow, as if to ask if he was sure, and he nodded slowly. It was at least forty yards away, and I was going to argue, but his continued smirk stopped me. I lifted my bow and slowly, quietly knocked an arrow and took aim at a large doe near the end of the group. I took in a deep breath and let it out slow. Once I was ready, I let fly the arrow.

She never knew what hit her. The arrow struck her behind her shoulder blade and she fell nearly immediately. The rest of the herd panicked and took off. Kili whooped and slapped me on the shoulder.

“Nicely done!” He said, smiling like a proud parent I was grinned stupidly.

We walked off to the fallen doe and, once I had thanked her for her life as my grandfather had always done, Kili showed me how to take the arrow out neatly to save the point. We made quick work of field dressing her and, when Kili made to pick the deer up, I stopped him.

“Uh-uh. I killed her, I’ll carry her.” I said.

“Oh, no. Talya, come on. If you do that, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Nope,” I popped the ‘p’ when I said it. I shoved him good naturedly out of the way and he let me, shaking his head. I grabbed the doe by her back legs and began to drag her behind me. Kili let out an pained sigh.

We made our way back to the company and, just as Kili predicted, they proceeded to bust his balls. They even good naturedly teased me, calling me the might huntress, Kili my fearless squire. The last part had come from Fili, who Kili promptly punched. Fili winked at me before the two broke out into a scuffle.

Dwalin and Balin, who had been leading up until that point, sighed in exasperation and decided we might as well stop for the day.

Bombur set Dori and Oin to skinning and butchering the deer while Bilbo, Ori, and him gathered some edible mushrooms and other plants to go with dinner. It didn’t take long before there was a veritable buffet cooking. We all sat around the fire, joking and laughing, except for Thorin, who had not taken his eyes off of me.

Dwalin began to carve up the now cooked carcass and cut off a large, bloody piece of loin. He brought it over to me and handed it to me. The gesture took me by suprise, since I usually served myself once the choicest cuts were taken.

“Thank you, Master Dwalin.” I said sincerely. He mumbled your welcome awkwardly under his breath and stammered a little.

“Well…. We have to make sure nothing is wrong with it, after all.” He finished lamely.

Bombur brought me over a bowl of mushrooms, saying he remembered how much I enjoyed them in Rivendell. Leave it to Bombur to remember something about me that involved food. I thank him warmly.

As I took a bite of the meat, I let out an embarrassingly load groan of pleasure. I stopped mid-chew and they all watched me. I waited a beat for the teasing that I knew was coming.

“See? All a lass needs is a good hunk of dwarven meat!” Bifur cracked. I nearly choked on a mushroom and Fili pounded me on the back while he howled with laughter.

“Oh, no no,” I said after a moment. “Remember. Bombur may have cooked it, but I shot it. Therefore, you are all enjoying *my* meat.” I stopped then. “Wait.. .That sounded…”

But it was too late.

“Are you telling us you are not truly a woman?” Nori asked teasingly. “I am crushed!”

“Oh shut it,” I muttered darkly as I chucked a mushroom at his head. He ducked and stuck his tongue out. I rolled my eyes, and we all settled down to finish our meal.

Bilbo, Bifur, and Balin set about cleaning up and I leaned back on my arms, watching them. Movement caught my eyes and I looked up to find Thorin standing a few feet away. He motioned me towards him and I thought for a moment about refusing. I let out a small frustrated sigh, stood, and followed him. We walked for a few minutes, now well clear of the others. He paused and looked at me.

“I wished to speak with you,” I felt my blood begin to boil.

“Why? So you can tell me again how I don’t belong?” I snapped, venom practically dripping from my words.

“I suppose I deserved that.” He said softly, looking down for a moment.

“You are damn right you deserved that. You had NO right to speak to me like that. No right to fling harmful words at me just because you were having a shitty day. I have worked my ASS off to fit in with you all. I have bled for you, I have starved for you, and I would have given my LIFE to save your nephew, or anyone else. And what do you do? You through it back in my face. Tell me again about how grateful you are. Tell me about how treacherous the elves are. They offered me a place among them with no hesitation and welcomed me with open arms. I did not have to fight tooth and nail to prove myself to them, which is a hell of a lot more than I could say of you,” My shoulders heaved and he opened his mouth to speak.

“I am not finished! I am tired of you treating me like a second class citizen. I don’t care how poorly you’ve been treated or how bitter you are. You are supposed to be a king, and instead you act like a petulant child, all alone in the world. Like you are the only one without a home, or like you are the only one who has ever lost someone close to you. Look around, Thorin Oakenshield. Everyone has lost something.

“I have no home, for your information. No loved ones or friends. But have I complained once? No. I have sucked it up and soldiered on because I believed in you and I felt a duty to help where I could to restore your home in Erebor. I have given everything I have, and have asked for nothing, NOTHING, in return except for the same respect I have shown you.

“If you continue like this, acting like you are alone in the world and turning away everything and everyone, then you will, mark my words, end up just like your grandfather. Alone and trapped within the sickness of greed.”

Thorin had stood silent while I yelled. I was so angry I was shaking, and now that I had said my piece, I fell silent, waiting for him to lash back out at me.

“I am sorry,” His words were quite, hardly whispered. “You are correct. I had no right to speak to you thus. I took my gratitude to you for saving Kili and threw it back in your face. You have every right to be angry with me.”

I was shocked, and suddenly all the rage in me faded. It was hard to stay angry at someone who sounded so broken, so tired. So sad.

“My kin adore you. My nephews, in particular, seem to think of you as a sister they never had, and I am truly sorry I made you doubt the fondness they have for you. It is a great sign of affection among my people to give another something we have crafted, or something of our own.” He gestured towards the bracers I wore, then brought his eyes to meet mine. His eyes were soft and pleading.

“I will not ask for forgiveness, because I know I deserve it not.” He finished.

We stared at each other for a long time.

“You have every right to refuse, but may I ask something of you?” He asked, his voice still so very soft and sad.

“What?” I asked, my voice clipped.

“I ask that we start over.”

“A clean slate?” I asked, cocking my head to the side ever so slightly. “I dare not ask for such. Merely, that we begin anew, and try to build between us the trust that you and my kin have already established so strongly.”

I mulled this over for awhile. I was still angry, still hurt. But to have this proud and stubborn dwarf come to me and apologize so sincerely…. I realized how difficult this was for him. I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment, then offered a low bow.

“Talya Conner, at your service.”

“Thorin Oakenshield, at yours.” He returned the bow, making the gesture so much more graceful that I managed.

He slowly stood straight, a bit of parchment now in his hand, along with a quill. He handed it to me wordlessly. I unfolded it to find the very contract that Bilbo had signed all those weeks ago in Bag End. The notable difference was the part where it stated “one-fourteenth’ had been crossed out, and ‘one-fifteenth’ had been written in its place. In the column next to it were the initials of everyone in the company.

I felt a tingle up my spine and I looked at Thorin, wary.

“Don’t offer this to me if you are going to throw it back in my face the next time you are in a bad mood.”

“I give you my word.” He clutched his fist to his chest, as if in oath. “Read it over and, if the terms are acceptable to you, sign it at the bottom.”

Thorin bowed his head at me and started back to camp.

I stood there for a long time, looking down at the contract in my hands. I thought about our conversation over and over in my head and finally added my small signature to the bottom.

I slowly made my way back to the camp fire. By the awkward tension, I could tell that they had heard me yelling. It should have bothered me, but I felt too drained from my earlier anger to really care. Bilbo offered up a smile as I passed him, and I returned it.

Thorin sat on the ground, his legs out in front of him, his knees bent and his elbows resting on them. I stopped before him, and he raised his piercing blue eyes to meet my own. I held out the contract and he took it, glancing at my signature.

“Welcome, Talya Conner, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

Chapter Text

We all settled down to sleep early that night and I found myself thinking of the tentative peace that Thorin and I had forged. I still had my doubts that he was sincere and I still was angry at him for his words, but I also knew that, pain in the ass or not, when he gave me his word, he meant it.

We traveled for days with little commotion. We would wake early in the morning, eat a light meal of leftovers and start off again. Just before dusk, we would settle down and someone would go off hunting, whether it was Dwalin with his traps, Ori with his slingshot, Kili, or me. Now that I found my niche with my bow, I rather enjoyed hunting and the quiet it brought. I volunteered frequently and Kili accompanied me more often then not. Some nights we turned it into a friendly competition to see who could take down their prey first, or who could make the longest shot. While Kili usually won, I enjoyed the game as a way of building up my skill. I particularly enjoyed it when I managed to beat him, though that was rare.

Thorin had begun to join us more regularly in our dinner-time discussions and banter. While he did not comment often, he would sing along with the others, or tell his parts in whatever story they brought up. Every once and awhile he would offer me a nod if he caught me looking in his direction, and I wonder if my speech to him had sunk in and if he was really trying to stop being the bitter, brooding jack ass that he had been.

The country began to get rougher and I knew once we strayed into mountains that soon we would be in some deep shit. The battle with the stone-giants and the following capture by trolls weighed heavily on my mind. I dared not breath a word of warning or caution, however. I knew now that this quest was turning out a little differently then the movies. I had to be the one to bring Gandalf. I had been the one to give Bilbo the idea about the parasites. And infinitely more worrisome, I had saved Kili from that orc. It was bad enough that things had changed as it was. I would keep my mouth shut, thank you very much, and try not to fuck anything up.

On the sixth day of travel, it started to rain, and it did not stop. We could not even light a fire that night, so we all huddled up as close as we could under a sparse grouping of pines after a very bland meal. In the not too far distance, I could make out the very mountains that I had been dreading.

“Bombur, you great oaf, move your foot out of my spine!” Snapped Gloin.

“That’s not my foot!” Bombur snapped right back. Nori let out a snort of a laugh and made some reference to another ‘boney’ part of his anatomy.

“Oi, its not that either!” Bombur added. “Its my knee. And if you think it feels any better for me to have my knee shoved into your great stabbing spine, then you would be wrong. But someone has taken up any space I could possibly have to move!”

“Any space you have is still twice the space the rest of us have,” grumbled Dwalin. I rolled my eyes at their bickering and tugged my cloak closer to me. It was the one Becka had given me. The charcoal grey one I had given to Bilbo who was shaking so badly his teeth chattered almost comically in his head. He was in the center of the group, next to me. Fili and Kili were in their usual spots to my left and right, with Thorin near to them. He had been talking with them in hushed tones as the rest of us settled down into sleep.

“Why don’t all of you just shut your yaps,” I muttered finally, tired of their constant arguing. Everyone’s mood was foul with this retched rain. I thought for a moment, then sat up and rustled in my pack. I tugged out my tent cover and my 550 cord, stood up, and stepped around my companions. I began to tie the tarp off to the tree and glanced back.

“Oh, don’t all rush to help me.” I growled moodily. Dwalin was the first to stand and he grabbed the other side. We stretched it taut and angled it down so that water would drift off freely. Then we set about tying branches closer together and piling dead brush on top of that. Within a short time, we at least were somewhat out of the rain. Dwalin and I were soaked through, however, from being out in the down pour.

“Why didn’t you do that before?” Bofur asked grumpily. I flipped him off and scowled.

“Oi, Bofur. Don’t go pissing her off. She’s right scary when angry.” Fili called over, smirking at me. It was the first time anyone had alluded to having heard my little rant to Thorin. They all shared chuckle and it surprised me that Thorin himself was leading them in their laughter.

Noticing I was shivering just as hard as Bilbo had been, they gathered me to the center and shifted closer, sharing their body heat. I snuggled up, back to back with Bilbo, and, with the rain no longer falling on us, I finally fell asleep.

The next morning it was still raining as we ventured in to the mountain. The clouds were so dark overhead that you could scarcely tell that it was day. The mood was definitely somber and we all walked with our cloaks tucked tightly against our bodies and our hoods pulled up over our heads.

It wasn’t long before the path became so steep at times that we had to help each other up. At a particularly harsh climb, we helped each other up, one by one, and it reminded me of the ravine and my squad. I shuddered in the cold as Dwalin and Thorin, the two tallest in the company, hefted me up. Gloin and Oin grabbed my arms and hauled me up the ledge and easily to my feet. Dwalin was next and, like Alicia, Thorin, the leader of our group, was last.

The telltale rumble in the distance promised a thunder storm and I felt a sudden fear clutch my chest. Anxiety washed over me as we walked and I could practically hear the screams of Andrew, Brown, Downy, and Wallace as we ran for our lives in the hellish storm that would have killed me.

“Talya?” Balin asked, snapping me to my senses. His hand was on my arm, steadying me. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in my appearance. “Are you alright lass?”

“Yeah… Just uh… Bad memories.”

“Memories of what?” Bilbo asked quietly and quite miserably from behind me. I hesitated, and then remembered how often they had told stories of their own pained pasts.

“I was out in the woods with some… colleagues of mine. We got stuck in a vicious storm, a lot like this. We were caught in a ravine when it started to flood. We managed to get up the side in time, but my boot caught in a root and I fell. The split lip you saw me with when we first started traveling was from that.

“A flash flood came down the ravine, carrying trees, rocks, and god knows what else. As the water began to hit the ledge I was on, it ate away at the dirt under it. By the time I got my boot free, it was too late. The flood roared beneath me and something hit the ledge I was on. The next thing I knew, I was in the water.

“My gear…” I took a breath and this time it was Bilbo who steadied me. “My gear was wearing me down, and the water was so cold, coming off of mountain streams that had just begin to thaw. I could hardly breath. A large tree branch slammed into my chest and I managed, barely, to grab onto it. It helped me stay above water, but for long. I was carried down stream for I don’t know how long. Finally, in the flash of lightning, I caught sight of a tree tipped over the ravine. I grabbed for it and hung on, realizing too late that it was balanced precariously at the edge. I let go, but not before tipping it over. It crashed behind me and sent up a wall of water, thick with mud and debris.

“I smashed into the side of the ravine, my branch breaking into smaller pieces. I clutched on to it in desperation, but it didn’t matter. The last thing I remember was water filling my mouth and my head going under.”

Our walk slowed as everyone gathered near me to hear my story. It was the first truly personal thing I had described other then how I was shot. Everything else had been light hearted jokes and stories.

“Gandalf found me and, had he not intervened… I would have died. I owe him my life. So, when he asked me to accompany you guys on this quest, I took it as my honor-bound duty.”

There was a beat of silence.

“How did he know to ask you to come, if this was such a chance encounter?” Dwalin asked.

“I didn’t understand, myself, until a little later. See, when he found me, all I had was the uniform I had been wearing, my ruck sack I have here on my back now, and that branch. I, too was curious, so I asked him why me. He said to me ‘If I had any doubt about your meaning to be here, it was erased when I saw you clutching that branch.’”

“Why was that?” Bilbo urged when I asked. I looked at Bilbo.

“I said the same thing. Gandalf said simply ‘That my dear, is a branch of Oak.’”

There was dead silence from the others. Some stared at me incredulously. Some stared in awe. But it was Thorin who’s eyes held the most emotion. Complete shock and amazement were reflected there.

A particularly harsh roll of thunder boomed over head and I began to pick up the pace.

“We need to find shelter of some sort,” I called out. Everyone seemed to snap out of their trances and we pressed on. I was just behind Thorin now.

“Why did you not tell me?” Thorin asked, calling out to me.

“Would you have believed me then?” I questioned back. He frowned deeply, then shook his head.

“No,” Came his answer.

The path narrowed before us and where water had gathered, the stone was slick.

“Hold on!” Thorin called to the rest of us. There was a commotion behind us and I let out an involuntary gasp as Bilbo slipped. Dwalin’s hand shot out and he managed to snag the poor startled hobbit before he fell.

“Look for shelter!” Thorin called out again, glancing up at the sky. He frowned slightly, then his eyes widened.

“Watch OUT!” Dwalin yelled. I glanced up and my heart was in my throat. A huge boulder crashed above us and reigned rock down on us. We all ducked as we were pelted with the sharp stones. A small, golf ball sized chunk cracked my check and I yelped in pain. Immediately, blood began to trickle out of the cut and I cursed loudly.

“This is no ordinary thunder storm. It is a thunder battle!” called Balin. We all jerked as something impossibly huge loomed in the storm.

“Stone-giants” I gasped. It was something else watching the movies did not prepare you for. The sheer enormity was mind boggling and watching these giants of rock and stone move about, groaning and moaning in the storm, was, for the lack of a better word, scary as fuck. The entire mountain moved beneath us as the creatures lurched and let lose the min-van sized boulders at one another. The ledge we were on jolted and it occurred to me that we were indeed on one of the terrifying creatures.

“Take cover, you’ll fall!” Thorin called out as the path beneath us shook once more. A fine tremor shot under us and we all stumbled back as, once more, a huge rock crashed above us.

“Whats happening?” Kili called out. The mountain began to split beneath us and everyone looked on in confusion. A third giant joined the first two, his terrible groan reverberating in my chest. One of the first giants crushed a rock against its face, and it began to fall.

“There’s a fucking giant behind us!” I yelled. The stone began to shift and move around us, and I stayed behind with Thorin, Bilbo, and some of the others while Kili and his group lurched on ahead. The falling giant crashed into where the others had jumped through, and a pained gasp tore through Thorin’s lips.

“No. NO! Kili!” He called. We all jerked forward and I prayed that the had really survived. We rounded a small corner and Thorin sagged with relief in front of us. I glanced back at Bilbo and urged him closer to the wall as I went to help the others to their feet.

“We’re alright. We’re alive.” Balin said, reassuringly. Thorin went to his nephew and checked them over. It was a tender side of him that I had not seen.

“Wheres Bilbo?” Bofur asked suddenly. We all turned to find that he had, despite the fact that I had him move closer to the wall, slipped and was holding on to the edge by his fingertips.

“Shit!” I snapped, hoping that my change had not just doomed him to his death. I hastily moved closer to him and watched as Ori dove forward suddenly, letting out a loud ‘oof’ as he hit the ground. He grabbed at Bilbos’ hand, but Bilbo slipped further. I watched Thorin grab a hand hold and climb down to help up the hobbit. Thorin began to slip just as Bilbo was hauled to safety and both Dwalin and I dropped down to our stomachs and held out our hands. Thorin grabbed Dwalin’s arm and, after hesitating only briefly, grabbed mine as well. We hauled him to his feet.

“I thought we’d lost our burglar!” Dwalin said, brushing his hands off. Thorin turned to glare at poor Bilbo who, if possible, looked even more miserable.

“He’s been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us.” Thorin snapped and I glared daggers at him. I was hoping that my tirade had wizened him up some, but no such luck. I glared at him and thwacked him hard on the chest as I continued on. He looked at me questioningly but I ignored him.

Using the rock wall as a hand hold, I began to feel along the tiny path. In the darkness, I could hardly see two feet in front of my face. I stepped around a jutting rock and went to lean against the rock wall for balance….

And promptly fell on my face.

“Talya!” A few of the dwarves called after me in dismay, obviously having seen my not so graceful tumble into the cave.

“Are you alright?” Balin called.

“Fine. Fine!” I yelled. I stood up and picked gravel out of my palms. “Found a cave!”

I waved my hand out of mouth of the cave and looked around it, hoping like hell that we were in the right place, but dreading it all the same. Dwalin and Thorin followed first, then the rest of the company filled in.

“It looks safe enough,” Dwalin said as he searched through the many nooks and ledges.

“Search the to back,” Thorin called. “Mountain caves are seldom unoccupied.”

We all spread out in the cave and inspected it thoroughly, except poor Bilbo who huddled in the corner miserably. I gave a cursory glance around the cave, knowing we would find nothing, and settled next to him, sharing what warmth I could.

“Theres nothing here.” Dwalin finally said, after having walked around the small cave at least three times.

“Right, then. Lets get a fire going.” Gloin said, rubbing his hands together. Just like the rest of us, he was cold, soaked through, and grumpy.

“No. No fires in this place,” Thorin said quickly. “Get some sleep while you can. We leave at first light.”

“We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us!” Balin argued.

“Plans change. Bofur, take first watch.”

Everyone settled down into the cave, trying to find the most comfortable position they could. Once Bilbo had stopped shaking so badly, I stood up.

“Thank you, Talya,” He said softly. I smiled sadly at him, knowing exactly how he felt at that moment. I felt a familiar anger rise in my chest.

“You are welcome, Bilbo. Try to get some sleep, yeah?”

I turned and stalked off towards Thorin, who lay on his back with his arms under his head. As I approached, he turned to give me an appraising look.

“What is it, Talya?”

“You are seriously underestimating Bilbo,” I snapped. “I thought you had learned to give people a chance.”

“I did. You have proven yourself loyal, courageous, and an adept fighter. He has done nothing but complain every step of this trip. I do not want one of my people killed because of him.”

“You will regret saying such harsh things to him, just as you did me. You’ll see.” With those parting words I turned away from him and settled near the wall, hoping like hell that when the floor dropped from under us, I’d at least fall on top of everyone else. Selfish, yeah, but I weighed a hell of a lot less then everyone else, and I so did not want to get crushed by any of them, least of all Bombur.

I did not sleep. My nerves were shot and my heart was in my throat as I waited for the inevitable.

“The waiting is the hardest part,” I muttered to myself, sing-song style.

“Oi, did something just die?” Nori asked, who was lying quite near me.

“No, it was just Talya singing. Now shut up and go back to bed.” Bofur answered. I popped my head up and threw a pebble at him. It missed him by a mile and he waved his middle finger at me. I sighed, coming to rue the fact that I had taught them how to flip people off.

The storm waged on and slowly but surely, my companions dropped of to sleep. I closed my eyes and listened to the rain outside and tried to keep my breathing even.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I heard words being muttered softly. I cracked an eye open to see Bilbo standing at the entrance with Bofur. I strained to listen.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t’…”

“No. You’re right. We don’t belong anywhere.” Bofur sighed. “I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do.”

My heart sped up in anticipation as a faint blue glow began to emanate from the sword sheath at Bilbos side. Bofur narrowed his eyes as Bilbo pulled Sting from its sheath.

The floor began to rumble then and Thorin jumped to his feet.

“Wake up!” Thorin yelled. “WAKE UP!”

It was too late. I felt the floor give way and suddenly, we were all falling.

Chapter Text

We fell and I let out a girly scream. Had it been any other time, I am sure that I would have been teased endlessly.

We crashed into the walls as we all slid down in a hellish roller coaster ride of death. Everything whipped by so quickly that I began to feel nauseated. My body careened and crashed into rocks and dwarves alike and the ground below began to rapidly approach.

I fell with a thud on top of Dori and Nori. Bilbo then landed on top of me, and Bofur barely missed landing on both of us. I groaned in pain and struggled to stand. The noise of an endless rabble came closer to us and we all began to fumble, trying to regain our footing before the goblin horde attacked.

Thorin met my eyes briefly and before I could react, he struck out his hand and pulled my hood over my head. I didn’t even have a chance to wonder why when suddenly, the stunted and horribly malformed creatures were on us.

They hissed and snapped, growled and grumbled as they grabbed us and pushed us hastily to our feet. Our weapons were quickly pulled from us and soon we were being shoved along a narrow wooden bridge. I stumbled over a loose rock and I felt the sharp jab of an elbow catch me in the ribs. A goblin growled at me, and shoved me. I decked him and his head jerked back with the force of it, stunned and though he fell away, another immediately took into place.

Slowly, the cavernous tunnels came into view. Flickering fire light glowed around us as thousands of goblins hollered and roared. A deafening horn trumpeted and drums started, followed by what I guess passed for instruments here. It was a deafening racket as all the goblins began to screech and sing . We fought helplessly against our captors, but it didn’t matter. There was too many of them.

As we were jostled and shoved, poked and prodded, a deep and crackling voice spoke loudly

“I feel a song coming on…”

“Clap! Snap! The black crack
Grib, grab! Pinch, nab!
And down -down to Goblin town
You go, my lad!”

The voice was terribly out of tune and it echoed all around us. I cringed at the awful noise, between the Goblin king’s voice, the loud banging of drums, and the horrible snarling and snapping of his subjects around us. As we neared the throne, I caught sight of the enormous monstrosity that was the Goblin King. He was hugely fat with endless dirty rolls coming over his filthy and stained loin cloth. An enormous chin that dropped well down to his gut jiggled with the tune. His greasy and sparse hair stuck to his skill and his beady eyes regarded us with interest. Pus filled boils and goiters oozed everywhere I could see.

With much pushing and shoving I was maneuvered towards the middle of the group by Balin and Dwalin as we were stopped roughly before the Goblin King and I tried to hold back a retch as the smell of him assaulted my nose.

“Catchy isn’t it? Its one of my own compositions,” The king said proudly, coming to plop back down on his throne.

“That isn’t a song, its an abomination.” Balin snapped from in front of me. The goblins around us sneered and grumbled, brandishing their weapons at us.

“Abominations. Mutations. Deviations. That is all you are going to find down here.” He shifted in his seat and waved a meaty hand in our direction. Our weapons were dumped unceremoniously on the floor and I grimaced as my beautiful bow was tossed into the heap. The goblins squabbled over our belongings.

“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?” The king demanded, lurching to his feet and stepping menacingly close to us. Fili and Kili moved casually to stand in front of me, and I realized there were trying to hide my gender.

“Spies? Thieves!? ASSASINS?!” Spittle dripped from his chin.

“Dwarves, you malevolence,” A small bug-eyed goblin hobbled forward. “We found them on the front porch!”

Suddenly a goblin came up from behind me and shoved me roughly forward before any of my companions could react. I fell on all fours in front of the goblin king. He looked down and regarded me with interest.

“And look what we sniffed out! A woman!” The goblin who had shoved me forward ripped my hood away from my face, taking a handful of hair with it.

“Well. Don’t just stand there. Search the dwarves. And tie this pretty little thing up for me!” The king roared. The color drained from my face and I grit my teeth in determination. The bug eyed goblin from before grabbed at me and I punched him too. He rocked back, but grabbed my hands in his. Another goblin came up from behind me around the middle. I flailed and slammed my head back. I felt a satisfying crunch and thud as he fell down. Three more, then another four, goblins grabbed me and forced me to my knees. They quickly tied rope tightly around my wrists.

“What are you doing in these parts?” The king demanded, bending down to peer at me. I refused to meet his eyes, instead stared at the floor, terrified. “Come on now, pretty little bird. You can sing for me.”

He laughed crudely and reached down, his hand easily as big as my face, and grabbed my hair. He pulled it back painfully.

“Speak!” He snarled, spit landing in my face. I turned my head away from him and he threw his hand back and let go of my hair at the same time. The strength of his casual movement sent me rocking back and I crashed to the ground painfully. He turned and addressed the vulgar crowd.

“So be it! If we can not make them talk, we will make them squawk! Bring up the mangler! Bring up the bone-breaker!” He whirled and pointed directly at me.

“Start with her, first.” One of the goblins grabbed my arm, his long, boney fingers biting deeply. He yanked me roughly to my feet. When I tried to pull away, he backhanded me with such force that lights appeared in my eyes.

“WAIT!” Thorin called. I heard him step forward and I turned to look at him. He would not meet my eyes. The bastard holding on to me jerked me back around to face the king and I spat a mouthful of blood on him. The effort earned me another reeling back hand.

The goblin king turned to look at Thorin.

“Well, well WELL!” He took a step back and peered at Thorin with wide eyes. “Look who it is! Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror! King under the mountain.” He bowed mockingly, his voice scornful. He paused, then whipped his head up, his many rolls of fat bouncing with him.

“Oh! But I’m forgetting. You don’t have a mountain. And you’re not a king. Which makes you…. Nobody, really.”

Thorin did not speak. He merely glared up at the atrocity before him.

“I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head. Nothing attached. An old enemy of yours. Perhaps you know of whom I speak? An old enemy of yours.” The king fixed Thorin with an cruel smirk. “A pale orc, astride a white warg.”

Thorin jerked his head up fully and gazed at him with hatred and disbelief.

“Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle many years ago!” Throin snarled, taking a step forward angrily.

“So you think his defiling days are over, do you?” The king laughed cruel, then turned to look at me. “Perhaps I will gift her to Azog, and she can find out whether that is true or not.”

Some of the dwarves cried out in dismay at hearing his words. I refused to look back at them, afraid that I would break down if I did. It was taking all that I had to stand there and listen to him speak without giving into the growing fear in the pit of my stomach.

“Send word to the pale orc! Tell him I have found his prize!” The goblin king demanded suddenly, waving an enormous arm at a twisted and sad looking creature who scribbled furiously on what looked suspiciously like tanned hide.

Goblins began to crawl up a winding staircase, holding shackles and whips, what looked like bear traps, and all other manners of torture devices. I felt a shiver of fear go through me and one of the goblins grabbed a hold of my face by my chin and licked the length of my cheek.

“Mmm! Fear!” He snarled. I snapped my teeth and caught the fleshy part of his hand between thumb and index finger in my teeth and chomped down as hard as I could. Warm and foul blood squirted into my mouth and he squealed in pain, jerking away. Flesh came lose in my mouth and I fought against the gorge as it rose in my throat. I spat out a quarter sized hunk of bloody tissue and retched.

“Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung! You’ll be beaten and battered, from racks’ you’ll be hung! You will lie down here and never be found, down in the deep of goblin town!” The king cackled manically and danced around, the entire platform we were on shaking. There was much shuffling as the goblins carrying their devices reached us, and as those who had captured us riffled through our belongings. The goblins holding me jerked me to and fro in excitement as whips and other tools were passed around.

Suddenly, a loud and guttural snarl rose from the weapons pile. They had found Orcrist.

“I know that sword!” The king stopped dancing and shied away from the blade. “It is the Goblin-cleaver. The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!”

Whips began to fly as the goblins were worked up into a frenzy. I promised to myself that I would not scream when the first whip caught me on the back of my legs. The instant it dug into my flesh, I broke that promise. My legs buckled and I screamed in pain, tears instantly springing to my eyes. I jerked away as another goblin made to whip me, the long tongue cracking in the air as I raised my arm up to defend myself. I lashed out blindly, kicking, biting, and throwing my fists around. I fell down solidly and felt the air leave my lungs. Thorin was on the ground, a goblin poised to strike.

A wave of white light left me momentarily stunned before an explosion of power suddenly rocked the platform. Everyone who was standing was laid flat and I blinked slowly, a heavy buzzing in my ears. The cave, which had been dimly lit before, was thrown into darkness as most of the flames and torches had been blown out by the sudden gust.

“Gandalf!” I cried out as I struggled to stand for the umpteenth time.

“Take up arms! Fight! FIGHT!” He called out.

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, I watched as his tall form slowly came into focus. He was brandishing staff and sword. The dwarves began to scramble to their feet, grappling with the fallen goblins. Once I had regained my footing, I yanked a jagged looking blade from one of my goblin captors and quickly sliced through my ropes, managing to cut into the side of my hand as well. I hissed in pain and, angry, sliced at he goblin that I had taken the blade from as he tried to grab for me.

Working on pure adrenaline now, I slashed and hacked as I made my way to the pile of weapons. I fell to my knees and grabbed sword first. I quickly tied it to my belt, threw my bow and quiver over my shoulders, and began to follow after Gandalf and the dwarves, who were leaving a path of destruction in their wake.

I pulled my sword free and caught up with them as they slashed through another group of goblins. One made to grab for me and quickly I jerked out of the way, bringing my sword down. With a sickening crunch, his arm was severed. I ignored the gore that surrounded me and dove into the pack of dwarves.

“Quickly, now!” Gandalf called. We raced down the tunnels and pathways, dipping and dodging, hacking and slashing as we went. When we reached an open section, I cursed loudly at the large gaggle of the foul creatures in front of us, blocking our way. Dwalin yelled something I didn’t catch. He and a few others hastily grabbed at the posts in the ground and cut them free. Using them as battering rams, they charged forward, knocking the screaming creatures down to the depths below. We quickly scrambled through, pushing forward as fast as we were able.

Arrows began to rain down on us and I watched Kili deflect one arrow then another. Had it not been such a serious situation, I would have berated him for being such a show off. Instead, I shoved my sword back into its sheath and began to fire back. The goblin archers ducked under the sudden and unexpected fire and I took out three before they retreated back, my bow far outmatching their own in speed and accuracy.

“Jump!” I barely heard Thorin yell over the noise around us. I watched as the dwarves jumped to the path ahead, only for it to break lose and begin to swing. The rest of us scrambled to get to the path. I tucked my bow and quiver back where they belonged and jumped. I grabbed hold of a support beam, and for a second faltered. My hands were slick with blood, and I was having a hard time finding a hand hold. Dwalin reached out and grasped my arm, hauling me to my feet and steadying me.

We jumped to the path before us and continued on down the trail. Gandalf knocked down several large rocks with his staff and, like a video game, they rolled down and either crushed or shoved the Goblins coming our way. Out of breath, we reached a large bridge, but were suddenly stop. The Goblin King stood before us, slamming his large tipped staff on the floor. Goblins surrounded us.

“You thought you could escape me?!” The king threw back his head and laughed. “What are you going to do now, wizard?”

Gandalf hardly hesitated. He leapt forward and smashed the goblin king in the eye with his staff and, as he fell, twisted and slashed his sword through the creatures great belly.

Here was something that wasn’t in the movies.

Thick ropey intestines and other viscera poured out of the wound, an awful stench permeating the air as his bowels were perforated. The goblin king looked on in shock and Gandalf took that moment to slash his throat. Blood splattered everywhere as the blade bit in deep. The dwarf king let out a long, rattling breath, bubbles foaming from his mouth, before he crashed forward. We all had about two seconds to think ‘oh, shit’ before the bridge gave way, and suddenly we were all falling again.

I knocked hard against Balin, crashed against a wall, smacked my already injured hand against a protruding rock, and smashed into Bofur before we hit the ground, falling in boneless heaps, the wreckage falling around us. The wind was knocked out of me, but I still tried to scramble out of the pile. Gandalf followed suit.

“Well, that could have been worse,” Bofur said, sarcastically. I managed to pull myself free of the wood and crashed down, landing on the ground with a solid thud. Just as I did so, the dead king fell and landed with a loud thunk on the very top of the pile. The dwarves groaned.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Dwalin muttered. Gandalf and I set about helping our companions out from under the rubble. As the last of us came free, the noise from above began to grow.

“Gandalf!” Kili yelled, looking up. Our eyes followed to the sight of hundreds upon hundreds of goblins swarming down towards us.

“There’s too many. We cannot fight!” Dwalin yelled, frustrated.

“Only one thing will save us; daylight! Come!” He waved his staff and took off. We followed behind, though I began to lag terrible. I was winded.

We broke though the mountain, the last light of day blinding me. I stumbled as we ran down the slope and fell to my knees, hard. A strong hand grabbed my upper arm and hauled me to my feet. Thorin tugged me along with him as we ran.

Finally, as the slope tapered off, the company began to slow. I came to a stop shortly after passing Gandalf, bending over to relieve the burning pain in my side. My breaths came in great gasping pants and I felt like my legs were going to collapse beneath me.

Gandalf watched as we all slowed, counting each of us as we passed. .

“Fili… Kili.. That makes eleven. Thorin, Talya, that’s thirteen… Bombur, fourteen.” Gandalf narrowed his eyes. “Wheres Bilbo?”

“Curse the Halfling! Now hes lost?!” Dwalin snapped.

“I thought… he was with… Dori.” Gloin panted heavily.

“Don’t blame me!” Dori snapped.

“Well, where did you last see him?!” Gandalf asked, exasperated.

“I think I saw him slip away, back when they first collared us.” Nori said slowly.

“I’ll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance and took it!” Thorin snapped, looking at each of us in turn. “Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! Hes’ thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out his door. We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone.”

When Thorin looked at me, I shook my head sadly and turned away.

“No, He isn’t.” came Bilbo’s voice softly from behind a tree. He stepped into view and everyone stared at him in shock. Gandalf gave a relieved laughed.

“Bilbo Baggins. I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life!”

Bilbo walked slowly towards us, patting Balin affection ally on the shoulder as the old dwarf greeted him warmly.

“Bilbo! We’d give up on you!” Kili said, his voice filled with wonder.

“How on earth did you get past the Goblins?!” Fili asked, incredulous.

Dwalin muttered to himself, and then there was silence. We all regarded Bilbo and he shifted nervously. He gave a small anxious laugh, and slipped his hand down from his hip into his pocket and I felt a shiver of dread. The One Ring.

“Well, what does it matter? He’s back!” Gandalf cleared his throat as he spoke.

“It matters! I want to know. Why did you come back?” Thorin asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Look,” Bilbo said softly. He came to stand in the middle of the group and my heart went out to him. He looked at Thorin “I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you’re right.”

Bilbo shrugged and gave a sad smile. “I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See. That’s where belong. That’s home. And that is why I came back, because you don’t have one. A home. It was taken from you.”

Bilbo’s voice broke a little. “But I will help you take it back, if I can.”

Gandalf gives a small laugh and I realized he had tears in his eyes. He wasn’t the only one. Thorin could only stare on in wonder and I once again shook my head at him.

Suddenly, there was a loud, long howl. Thorin jerked his head up and we all followed his gaze. Rider-less wargs were running full tilt at us, snarling and snapping their jaws.

“Out of the frying pan…” Thorin started

“… and into the fire. Run!” Gandalf finished. A second wave of adrenaline, or maybe it was the third? Hit me and soon I was running along side my companions. The rapidly fading sun disappeared behind the mountains and suddenly, we were plunged once more into darkness.

Slavering jaws snapped at us as the lead wargs caught up. I had to jerk hurriedly to the side as a one snapped at me. It over corrected itself and went down, hard. I ran passed, dodging its flailing paws.

“Up into the trees! All of you. Come on, climb! Bilbo, climb!” Gandalf called. He hastily made his way up one of the pine trees and the dwarves followed after, helping each other as they went. I leapt up and grabbed a hold of a branch and pulled myself up the farthest tree, despite my protesting muscles. I hauled myself just out of reach as another warg snapped at my ankles.

“They’re coming!” Thorin yelled as more wargs approached, bearing orcs on their backs. A massive albino warg stepped up and those surrounding him parted. A ferociously tall and imposing orc sat upon its back, scars criss crossing his face. He sneered and growled out something in a harsh language I could not begin to understand.

I looked between the orc and Thorin, the pain and grief written there on his face heartbreaking.

Azog snarled something, and suddenly the wargs leapt forward, growling menacingly as they came at us. Teeth and fangs snapped from below as the wargs tried so hard to get at us. I watched helplessly as first one tree, then another toppled. I reached out and grabbed Bilbo as he fell forward. Around me, my companions settled themselves into the tree, not being able to tear their eyes away from the pale orc and his mount.

“Fili! Talya!” I glanced up at Gandalf when I heard my name. He dropped burning pine cones down at us, as we were directly below him, and began to throw them desperately. The others joined in, and soon flames rose in the dry brush around us. One of my pine cones struck a warg on the top of his head and rolled down his back, lighting the thick fur as it went. It howled pitifully and ran, a cheer going up amongst ourselves. A lone warg, enraged by the fire, leapt one last time at the tree we were in, and I felt it start to sway.

“SHIT!” I clung around my branch and held my eyes shut as tightly as I could. My stomach dropped as the tree swayed and fell, coming to rest precariously at the edge of the cliff. We all were yelling and struggling to keep our grip. Behind me, Ori fell and Dori fell, with Gandalf barely able to save them.

On the ledge before us, Azog snarled loudly, his warg echoing him. I closed my eyes for a second, knowing what was coming. Tears welled as I watched Thorin stand. He glared at Azog with anger for a moment, before lifting up his sword and, brandishing his Oaken shield, charging the pale orc. We all watched on helplessly as Thorin fell, caught in the face with the warg’s paws. He scrambled to his feet and brought up his sword once more, only to be struck down again by Azog’s huge mace. The huge warg gripped him in its teeth and shook him. Thorin’s pained cries tore at me and I watched as he was tossed like a rag doll and landed in a heap.

“THORIN!” I couldn’t help it. I screamed. Dwalin echoed his name, and Balin cried out a heart wrenching “No!”

We watched in terror as Azog once more muttered in his dark language to one of his remaining riders. He looked on at Thorin with disgust

I looked at Bilbo, who had begun to struggle on his branch.

Bilbo pulled himself to his feet, then yanked his sword from its sheath and took off. He tackled the orc just as it was about to stab a rapidly fading Thorin.

Suddenly heartened by Bilbos’ act of bravery, Fili, Kili, and Dwalin managed to get their footing. They pulled themselves up and ran to help.

Around us, great shapes began to emerge in the darkness. The Eagles were here.

The Eagles joined the fray, grabbing orcs and wargs easily in their talons and tossing them easily over the side of the mountain, or crushing them with their powerful talons. One by one, the company was plucked up or caught by the great birds. Gandalf urged me to let go of my branch and, feeling sick and hoping like hell that I would be caught, I let go and began to plummet.

I did not fall for long when I landed on the back of an enormous bird. Each wing was easily the length of a school bus, each feather longer than my arm. Its great head swiveled this way and that, its golden eyes taking in everything around us. The pupils grew and shrank, its third lens blinking away now and again.

I looked behind me and watched as Thorin was gingerly picked up in the talons of one of the powerful raptors, his body limp.

We flew all night, the great Eagles soaring effortlessly above the mountain tops. I sat on the back of my rescuer and looked at each of my companions. It really was amazing that we had made it out alive at all. Each one of them was injured and beyond tired, but they were all alive.

I was exhausted. My cheek hurt. My left hand was crusted with blood and I could hardly move it. The whip marks on the back of my thighs and around my arm burned relentlessly. My muscles protested every movement that I made. All I wanted to do was sleep, but I knew that I would be unable to do so.

As dawn broke, we approached the large jutting platform called Carrock. The eagles soared near and, without landing, dropped each one of us off delicately. Once Thorin was released, I ran to him, having slipped down the back of the raptor I road.

“Thorin!” I knelt at his side, taking his hand in mine. His injuries were so much worse then they were in the movies. A bloody gash was up the side of his jaw and had nearly torn his ear off. His brow was split, his nose bloodied. Bruises had formed up and down his arms and blood lay thick and matted in his hair. Gandalf followed behind me and stopped. He slowly lowered himself to Thorins side and placed a hand on his face. He spoke soft words, reverently, and we waited with bated breath.

After a moment, Thorin’s eyes began to flutter open. He strained a moment to focus his eyes as he gazed up at Gandalf and I, and the others who had gathered around us. His eyes lingered for a moment on me before he lifted his head up.

“The Halfling?” His words were weak and he winced as he tried to sit up. I dropped my hand from his and I lent him my shoulder. Without hesitation, he reached out to grasp it. Gandalf and I steadied him as I slowly stood, trying not to wince when he dug his fingers in as he stumbled.

“Its all right. Bilbo is here. He’s quite safe.” Gandalf answered. Thorin paused and wavered in place and the rest of the company surrounded him. He pushed past them and approached Bilbo.

“You! What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild and that you had no place amongst us?” Thorin asked, advancing on Bilbo. Bilbo looked on, uncertain. Balin made to take a step forward, but I put my hand out. He looked at me questioningly and I smiled very slightly and nodded my head. Confused, he looked back to Thorin.

Thorin stood face to face with Bilbo now, and the hobbit shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

“I’ve never been so wrong in all my life!” Thorin wrapped Bilbo into a tight hug and I fought the urge to say “I told you so.”

“I am sorry I doubted you,” Thorin stepped back from the hobbit, smiling warmly at him.

“No. I would have doubted me too. I’m not a hero or a warrior. Not even a burglar.”

Everyone chuckled at his comment. Bilbo looked at each of the us in turn, stunned at the admiration he found there. I felt eyes on me, and glanced at Thorin to find him watching me. I inclined my head towards him, and he followed suit.

After a moment, Bilbo looked off into the distance, something there catching his eye. In the far off horizon, a single peak rose into the sky. He glanced at Gandalf.

“Is that what I think it is?”

‘Erebor. The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle-Earth.” Gandalf answered. Without realizing I was doing it, I slowly walked closer to stand near Bilbo, Gandalf, and Thorin for a better look.

“Our home,” Thorin’s voice was so quiet that I hardly heard him. He was looking off into the distance with wonder and longing.

Chapter Text

Our climb down Carrock was slow going. We were all exhausted beyond belief, most of us having only a few hours of sleep at best in the last three days. Add to that the fact that we all were injured, some, such as Thorin, much worse than others. I had not thought I fared too badly until Oin ‘tsked’ over me.

Once we reached the bottom and were finally on a level surface, Thorin called us to a halt.

“Gandalf has assured me we are a few days time ahead of Orcs,” His jaw worked, and I knew he was still reeling from coming face to face with an enemy he thought had died so long ago. “We can not continue on in the state that we are in. We will rest, at least, for this day and night.”

Gloin, Bombur, and Balin plopped down where they stood. Kili and Dwalin, who both seemed to have suffered a little less abuse then the rest of us, offered to go hunt for a meal. Gandalf and Thorin wandered off into the distance, striking up a conversation.

Oin enlisted me as his aid, and slowly the two of us made our rounds within the company to ease what hurts we were able. Though we had lost much of our supplies in the goblin caves, thankfully Oin still had his ’first aid kit’ on him, so we had herbs, bandages, and sutures a plenty.

Gloin was the only one who need stitches, as it turns out. He had a huge slice in his calf and he cursed loudly as Oin sutured it shut. It was mildly satisfying to know that he was complaining more then I had when Oin had taken care of my arm. The rest were covered with bruises and shallow cuts and scrapes, most of which would simply have to heal with time.

By mid-morning, we had looked over everyone, except for Thorin and Gandalf, who were still talking in soft tones, Oin made me sit in front of him.

“Alright, lassie. Take off your cloak and lets have a look at you,” I grimaced and pulled the cloak off of my shoulders.

“You’re a right mess,” He said softly, looking from the cut on my cheek bone, to the large swelling bruise on my jaw line, down to the raw burns on my wrists. “But nothing looks too serious. Anything else?”

I hesitated, frowned, and then let out a long pained sigh.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “The whip…”

Oin looked at me with a soft expression and he told me to turn around. I hesitantly did as he asked and leaned forward a little. Dear god, this was embarrassing. My ass was practically in his face. But he didn’t seem to notice. He gasped loudly when he caught sight of the whip marks.

I turned to glance back the best I could at the wounds. On the back of each of my thighs, starting from the just above the back of my knee on the left, to just under my ass check on the right, was a ragged welt of broken skin. It was not terribly deep, but it was raw. The dark crusted blood and deep bruising contrasted with the paleness of my upper legs that did not often see the light of day.

“That’s not so bad,” I said, trying to play it off. Once again I was finding that when you finally acknowledge a wound, it suddenly hurt that much worse.

Oin rolled his eyes and shook his head at me.

“It’ll heal, lass. But it will, more like than not, leave a scar.”

I nodded my head, having figured as much.

Kili and Dwalin returned from their hunt with a few squirrels and a large turkey- looking bird. I was about to offer to help start processing them when I noticed Thorin and Gandalf walk back into our midst. I eyed Thorin and watched him carefully, noticing how tenderly he was stepping with his right leg, though he tried not to show it. I stopped mid-stride and turned myself to intercept Thorin.

He stopped when I came to stand in front of him, and he frowned deeply as he took in the bruise on my face. I reached out and took his arm firmly in my own. Thorin glanced at my hand and raised an eye brow before I began to tug him. He followed reluctantly as I lead him to a large rock on the ground.

“Sit,” I pointed. “Oin and I haven’t had a chance to look over your injuries.”

“I am fine, Talya.” He argued.

“Bullshit,”

“Talya…” He opened his mouth, about to argue again.

“Sit your ass down!” I pointed down at the rock again.

He complied, a small wry smile playing on his lips. I sat down in front of him and, using one of the last bits of clean linen that Oin had in his pack dampened with what was apparently whiskey from a small flask. I set about cleaning the large gash on his jaw first. The second the alcohol touched his face, he cursed loudly.

“Cry-baby,” I said, softly. He glared at me and I continued to clean his jaw. It could have used a few stitches, but I would leave that to Oin since I had never done them before. For awhile, we sat in silence as I cataloged his injuries. His right knee was badly bruised and swollen, and I understood now why was favoring that leg.

The entire time, he had not taken his eyes off of me. I began to sweat under his scrutiny, and I cleared my throat. I went to stand, but this time, it was him who reached out. He softly brushed the bruise on my jaw with his fingers, a bare ghost of a touch and I froze.

“I find that I must apologize to you once again.” He said, dropping his hand and looking down for a moment.

“For what?”

“For again doubting you,” He answered. When I looked at him questioningly, he explained.

“Your bravery in the caves was admirable. Many would have crumbled when first the whip rent their flesh. More when the great oaf threatened to give them up as a prize to the Defiler. Lesser men, and aye, lesser dwarves have fallen in such circumstances. If I had any doubts left of you, they were erased in those caves when you faced the goblin horde as fiercely as any other in this company.”

He fell quiet and I did not know how to answer. Thankfully, Bombur saved me from having to when he called us to our mid-day meal. Thorin turned to head towards camp.

“Hey… Thorin?” I said hesitantly, wondering if he would object to me addressing him so simply. He paused, but did not comment as he looked back at me.

“Yes, Talya?” He asked softly.

“I told you so.” He frowned for a moment, then slowly a grin broke out on his face. It was infectious, and I felt a smirk of my own form. He shook his head, laughed out right, and walked back to me. He clapped a hand gently on my back and we walked together, the spark of a tentative friendship between us forming.

The moral of the company was greatly improved since our escape, but we were still subdued. It was too easy to imagine what would have happened if Gandalf had not shown. The fact that most of our supplies were now lost was worrying. As night fell, the tension crept back into the company. Noone wanted to admit it, but, despite Gandalf’s assurances that we were well away, we were still waiting with baited breath for the sound of wargs and the hell they would reign down on us.

The fire crackled, the smoke rising into the clear night. The moon was full above, casting a comforting light on us. We were uncharacteristically quiet, all of us deep in thought. I hated that I had lost my last few remnants from my home and it hurt to realize that, after only three months here, I had begun to forget the faces of my friends at home. But, as I looked over the dwarves, the wizard, and the hobbit, I realized that, though I had been close with Andrews and a few others, this little rag-tag group had come to quickly become just as important to me.

We went to bed early that night, taking turns to watch out into the darkness. I had sat awake with Gandalf for the first shift, letting the others rest while my mind was still very much active. We spoke little, Gandalf and I. He had puffed slowly on his pipe most of the night, both of us looking out in the direction of Erebor. Though we could not see it through the trees, we knew it was there, and I felt a quiet longing fill me. I had, so many times, wanted to return to my world so badly. The longer I stayed here and the more firmly I became lodged in this reality, the more it occurred to me that, once this quest was over, if I survived, I had no where to go. The thought was unsettling.

We had woken Bifur and Bofur next, and I laid my head down on the cool ground near the fire. The soft crackling of the wood lulled me to sleep at long last.

The bustling of dwarves woke me and I groaned, sore as all hell. Everything hurt and that wasn’t even an exaggeration. I groaned loudly and rolled over onto my stomach, hiding my face beneath the hood of my cloak.

“Why the fuck are you all being so noisy?” I complained loudly. I lifted a head and looked, bleary eyed, up at the sky. Dawn had risen a long while ago, and I was surprised that I had slept so long.

“Why the fuck did no one wake me up?” I asked, looking around as I sat up. I was the last one to rise, it seemed, as everyone else had set already eaten and cleaned up.

“You are in a right foul mood,” Bofur commented, walking past.

“You were too cute to wake up.” Nori answered.

“That, and you growled as fiercely as a sleeping bear when ever one of us tried to wake you.” Fili added cheerfully. He passed a water skin to me and I drank greedily, my mouth dry.

“Here,” Kili said, coming up to me next with a food piled on a large piece of bark. “Eat up. Thorin wants us to head out before mid-day.”

I ate, starving. Last nights dinner had done little to sate the hunger I had from our meager meals the past few days. Once I finished, I went and took care of my business, and came back to the group just as everyone was gathering.

There was a marked difference within the company that day. A tangible air of excitement now that their lost home was in sight, even though a great distance and many obstacles still remained. Even Thorin’s mood was greatly improved. He smiled and laughed more then he had nearly the entire trip combined and seeing him so light hearted was refreshing.

We traveled the next four days slowly, the injuries of Thorin and myself in particular slowing us down. Each night, Oin soaked my whip-wounds with a linen bandage and a paste made of some god awful smelling plant. While it stunk like hell, the relief it brought was unbelievable. Each night, too, before we went to sleep, Oin and I would gang up on Thorin and make him prop his leg up with a wrap around his knee. Oin used a concoction of sweet smelling herbs to help fight the swelling there, and I had commented, loudly, how unfair it was that Thorin got to smell like flowers. Fili and Kili in particular found the comment hysterical and teased their uncle endlessly. He took it with much more grace than I thought possible.

The fourth night, I had drawn the short straw with Thorin for the midnight watch. I remembered, fondly, of how often we had argued over the late night shift amongst our platoon and laughed to myself when I realized that, even in Middle-Earth, everyone fought tooth and nail against the graveyard shift.

Thorin sat with his back against a tree, his leg stretched out in front with the wrap still in place. I sunk down next to him, wincing when the movement pulled at my now thoroughly bruised thighs.

“How do your injuries fair?” He asked, turning to look at me.

“I’ll have to admit, I’ve been better.” I answered. “You?”

“I will live,” He replied, using a line I had spoken several times in the past few days whenever someone has asked me how I was doing.

We looked out into the wild and I shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot.

“Gandalf told me,” Thorin said after awhile. I looked at him in askance.

“Told you what?”

“About how you came to be here. That you are not truly from this world.”

That was not what I expected, and I swallowed hard.

“Is it true? Did the Gods bring you here to help us on this quest?”

I chewed my lip and wondered just how to answer him.

“Yeah, I guess. I didn’t lie when I told you all before about how I would have died if Gandalf had not intervened. I don’t know what the Valar saw in me, or why they brought me here,” The last part was a lie, and I felt guilty. “But here I am all the same.”

“Can you ever go back from whence you came?” He asked after a pause.

“No.” Came my simple answer.

“Did you leave behind kin?”

“Friends, yes. Kin, no. My father was never really in the picture and I had no siblings. My grandparents helped my mother raise me on their farm. They died when I was thirteen or so and my mom passed when I was nineteen. I joined the army then, just to fill in the void left in my life.”

“You had no husband, no children?”

He sounded surprised and I laughed dryly.

“No, no. Don’t get me wrong. I have had boyfriends and I’ve always wanted kids. But I never really found anyone that I wanted to spend my life with. What about you?”

“Much the same. You were not wrong in your assessment of me when you called me bitter. I have spent many long years thinking angrily of all that was taken from my people and I and the help that we were denied.” He laughed sourly. “I did not spend much time dwelling on my loneliness or the eventual heirs my people would expect of me.”

Thorin fell silent then, once he realized what he just admitted. As if to fill the silence, he took out the pipe that Gandalf had loaned him the day before and began to pack down a few pinches of dried leaves from a small pouch. He struck a match and, once his pipe was lit, put it out and began to puff. Knowing that this is about when he usually pulled away and became withdrawn, I leaned over and tugged the pipe out of his hand. I looked it over and then took a long drag off of it. I had tried cigarettes in the past, but had never found them to my liking. This was no difference.

I gagged and coughed harshly. Thorin watched, then shook his head and, with a small smile, leaned over and patted me on the back.

“Oh, god, that’s awful.” I coughed out.

“It is an acquired taste,” He admitted.

“Obviously. That tastes like shit.” I spit off into the opposite direction of Thorin and he regarded me with an amused expression.

“You have tried shit?” He asked. I realized that this was perhaps not an expression that translated across our cultures, and was about to explain when I caught the look on his face.

“Asshole.” I shot back.

Then he did something I never expected.

With a teasing smile on his face, he leaned forward slightly and flipped me off.

Chapter Text

If my time in Rivendall had taught me anything, it was that the dwarves hated being bored. And, dear god, the agonizingly slow pace that we traveled in, and the same routine day in and day out had made us all bored. Between that and the rising heat, we were all antsy and grumpy. With our hurts slowly mending the dwarves began to fidget. By far, the worst two were Fili and Kili.

They had taken to sucker-punching each other whenever one wasn’t looking. After Kili landed a solid blow to Fili, who promptly fell into Dwalin, Thorin had growled at them to knock it off, and had them separate. Fili he kept at his side, and Kili traveled towards the back. All was quite until a dirt clod soared over our heads and cracked Fili right between the shoulder blades. He ‘tripped’, picked up his own hunk of dirt, and lobbed it back over to Kili. For the next hour, the two threw things at each other at random intervals.

After getting nailed in the back of the head for a second time by a solid chunk of earth, Thorin threw up his hands in defeat.

“Make camp,” He let out a long, pained sigh. We all looked at him suspiciously. It was barely past noon. “If you two continue on like this, I may throttle you both, and your mother would never forgive me.”

We found a small tributary to make camp next to and, as a change of pace, Bifur and Balin set about carving spears to fish with. They had spotted some large sport fish and decided that they wanted something different for dinner, much to our delight. Bombur in particular was excited for something different to cook, and he busily set about gathering herbs with an energy that the rotund dwarf did not usually have.

I sat back and watched as the company all endeavored to find something to do. Dwalin and Dori had shed their cloaks and were sparring, their weapons clashing together solidly. Kili and Oin had paired up to trade fists. Thorin and Gandalf had set back with their pipes and smoked as they watched. Bilbo had shyly joined them, and I smiled to myself as I watched Thorin and Gandalf made an effort to include him. Ori was drawing in his sketch book. Nori, Gloin, and Bofur were playing a betting game of some sort that seemed to involve a lot of cursing and good-natured insults.

“Come on, then.” Fili said, walking over to me. “We haven’t sparred in ages. Get your sword out and we’ll have a go.”

He sounded like such an excited child that I couldn’t help but smile. I held out a hand to him and he swiftly yanked me to my feet. I pulled my sword from my sheath and, before he could react, I spun around and slashed at him. He barely managed to bring his sword up to block. His eyes widened in surprise for a seconds before he was slashing at me with his own sword.

Now that I had been in a real fight and had fought against creatures that were actually trying to kill me, I felt different. My strokes weren’t as clumsy and I was definitely stronger then I had been. What’s more, I had sparred with Fili so often that I had figured out a few of his tells by the way he stepped, or a glance in a certain direction. Once he realized that I had figured out a few of his moves, he changed his stance and it didn’t take me long to miscalculate. I over reached and stumbled. In an easy swoop, he knocked my sword from my hand and held the sword tip to my throat.

“You’ve gotten better,” He said proudly. “But then again, you’ve had a great teacher. You‘ll still have to do a hell of a lot better if you ever want to beat me, though.”

I dropped my head in exaggerated defeat, and he helped me stand. I collected my sword and slid it back into its sheath. I wouldn’t admit it, but I was already regretting the fight. The backs of my thighs burned and I was sure some that tomorrow, Id be even more sore.

Bilbo waved me over and I joined the three of them, plopping ungracefully to the ground. Thorin held out his pipe to me and I scowled at him. He quirked a small smile and leaned back again. Gandalf looked between the two of us, but decided not to ask.

“You have improved greatly, Talya.” He said, smiling warmly at me.

“Thanks. Fili is right though. Balin was a hell of a teacher.” I replied, making sure to raise my voice enough that Fili, who had been walking towards, could hear.

“Hey now!” He called back. “Keep up talk like that, and I shall remember not to take it easy on you next time.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He still had his sword in his hand and I realized that the bastard wasn’t tired in the slightest. He was practically bouncing on his feet.

Thorin put out his pipe and stood.

“I still owe you and that infernal brother of yours.” He tugged Orcrist out of its sheath and nodded towards the clearing that we had all taken turns fighting in. Fili’s face broke out in the biggest grin I had ever seen and he eagerly jogged over to fetch Kili.

Thorin reached the center of the clearing and tugged off his cloak and his shirt, tossing it easily to the side. Fili and Kili quickly joined them, both of them brandishing swords of their own. There was no warning. One moment, they were looking between each other, the next they were swinging their weapons with such brutal force that it left me breathless. I worried for a moment that they would hurt each other, but as they fell comfortably into a pace, I realized that Fili and Kili must have sparred with their uncle for as long as they had been able to hold weapons.

I realized that I would never in a million years come close to the skill that they had. Even Kili, who was definitely more of a archer held his own.

I had never really had the chance to watch Thorin fight like this before. It was not too often that he joined in our antics and at best, I had seen him cross his axe with Dwalin a few times. Watching him up against his nephews was a sight to behold.

As I watched his muscles bunch and move with ease, I felt my mouth go slightly dry. I had admired Fili and Kili shitless before, but they had nothing on Thorin’s impossibly broad and muscled shoulders and chest. It didn’t help that I had never seen him without his shirt before. I felt down right mesmerized as I sat watching the sweat drip down his face and chest, his hair beginning to stick.

Next to me, Gandalf cleared his throat loudly and I blushed scarlet. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and he chuckled in amusement.

“You seem to be enjoying the entertainment.” He said teasingly, looking up at me through his bushy eye brows. I sputtered.

“Oh, come now, Gandalf. Leave her alone.” Bilbo said, smiling at me.

“Thank you, Bilbo.”

“She can’t help if she finds us short folk attractive.” He finished, a teasing smirk on his lips. Gandalf laughed out right.

“…Thanks, Bilbo,” I muttered, blushing harder.

“Quite alright,” He said with a cheeky nod to me. I shook my head at him, and we all watched as Thorin and his nephews discarded they weapons and dissolved into a very much one sided grappling match in which Fili and Kili had ganged up on him. They were all laughing and the adoration they held for their uncle was clear. The look of affection Thorin had on his face for his nephews pulled at my heart strings.

Bilbo gave a slight chuckle, and we all turned back to face each other. I was determined not to be caught starring again. Bilbo glanced slyly at me. “Now that I think of it,” He said in conspiratorial whisper. “He could hardly take his eyes off of Master Fili and you when the two of you fought, and I don’t think he was watching Fili.”

We laughed and told stories late into the night. Drinking songs were sung (or not, in my case) and jokes were cracked. Bilbo had surprised us all when he told his own dirty joke, and none laughed harder than Gandalf, who had seemed completely and utterly stunned. It was most definitely a nice change of pace and I felt almost like we had back in Rivendell. An easy camaraderie had formed between all of us now that Bilbo and I were truly accepted as part of the company.

The Thorin I had come to know now was different then the completely stoic dwarf portrayed in the movies. Granted, he was stubborn and he was still an asshat sometimes. Okay, most of the time. But now that we were all closer and he was more comfortable in the presence of Bilbo and myself, I found that he laughed easier. He smiled more. Whatever his nephews threw at him, he threw back. While he was still serious much of the time, and the anger and bitterness within him was always there, just under the surface, he had changed. No longer was he the vagrant king, scrapping out a living doing whatever work he could find. This quest had given him a purpose again. He was doing it for his people. For his kin. For his nephews.

We all dropped off into sleep slowly once guard shifts had been assigned. Since I had pulled a late shift the night before, I was allowed to skip that nights watch. I was thankful, too, because Fili’s ass kicking earlier had worn me out. I knew I would have to start working with Balin, Kili, and him again soon so that my strength didn’t fade.

It was late, so very late that it could have quite possibly been considered early, when we heard noises in the distance. One by one, we all snapped awake. We strained our ears, dead silent. Then we heard it again. A distant howl of a warg.

“On your feet!” Gandalf hissed. We didn’t need to be told twice.

We all scrambled to our feet, our weapons in our hands. With a few muttered words from Gandalf, the fire went out with barely even a wisp of smoke.

“Bilbo,” He called out, waiving the hobbit over. “Up there,”

He pointed to a jutting ledge and Bilbo nodded, his eyes wide. We waited with bated breath as he climbed to the top and popped his head out just beyond the rocks. After a moment, he scrambled down.

“How close is the pack?” Thorin asked.

“Too close,” Bilbo said as he picked his way back down to us. “A couple of leagues, no more. But that’s not the worst of it,”

“Have they picked up our scent?” Dwalin interrupted.

“Not yet but they will. But we have another problem…”

“Did they see you? They saw you?!” Gandalf asked then.

“No, that’s not it!”

“What have I told you? Quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material.” Gandalf smiled slightly at his comment. The dwarves began to murmur amongst themselves and Bilbos’ words were falling on deaf ears.

“Shut it and let Bilbo speak!” I snapped, losing my patience. Bilbo nodded his head to me.

“I’m trying to tell you. There is something else out there!” He finally spit out. Gandalf looked at him quickly, concerned suddenly.

“What form did it take?” He asked suddenly. “Like a bear?”

“Yea…” Bilbo looked confused. “Yes. But bigger. Much bigger.”

“You know of this beast?!” Bofur’s voice held a bite of irritation to it, which was surprising to hear coming from the usual smart-ass of the group. “I say we double back!”

“And be run down by orcs?” Thorin asked, his eyes narrowed. Gandalf stayed silent and I looked at him. Our eyes met and I nodded slowly.

“There is a house,” He said softly, “Where we may take refuge. It is not far from here.”

“Whos house? Are they friend or foe?” Thorin demanded.

“Neither. He will help us, or, he will kill us.” Gandalf answered truthfully. Thorin let out a breath.

“What choice do we have?” Thorin asked bitterly, still glaring angrily at the wizard.

“None.”

Gandalf turned and began to hastily walk into the night and we all fell in line. We all moved as quickly and quietly as we were able, adrenaline adding speed to our movements. Our eyes scanned the woods around us, and it seemed like every shape that loomed out of the shadows was our enemy. Dawn came and went and our pace did not slow.

“Come on!” Gandalf called out. He had stopped before a stream and waved us all past and only followed once everyone was safe on the other side. From behind us, we could hear the echo of the orcs closing in.

Suddenly, and much closer, we heard an earth shattering roar.

“This way, quickly!” Gandalf turned sharply and we followed. We broke through trees, gasping and panting. Beorns house was there, just ahead.

“To the house, hurry now!”

Spurred on by both the rapidly closing in warg riders and the huge shape that crashed in the woods around us, we pressed forward. I was stumbling over my feet as we ran, what little I had left in the way of strength and stamina having already ran out. I tripped over nothing and went sprawling down, taking the hobbit with me.

“Fuck!” I yelled and hoped to hell that my slip up had not just killed Bilbo and I.

Behind us, a shaggy bear burst through the trees and brush. It was easily the size of a van and the speed at which it was traveling was terrifying. I scrambled to my feet as Gandalf hauled Bilbo to his, and we took off again. The ground between the bear and us rapidly shrunk as we passed through a gate. Ahead of us, the dwarves slammed into the door, in a frenzy to get it open.

“Open the door!” Gandalf’s voice was sharp.

“Quickly!” Thorin called out as he pushed his way to the front.

I made the mistake of looking behind us. The bear was so close now that I could see his fierce brown eyes narrowed in rage and the fangs glistened with saliva.

“For fucks sake, Open the god damned door!” I yelled, only slightly panicked.

Thorin finally lifted the bolt on the outside of the door and threw it open. We ran inside and I stopped by Gandalf, who looked vaguely amused.

“You… are an ass…” I sputtered, out of breath. “Its not… funny.”

Behind me, the bear’s huge head pressed through a gap in the door, and the dwarves worked hard to close it. Bilbo had his sword out, pointing it at the bear hesitantly.

“Come on lads!” Dwalin yelled. They finally managed to get the door shut and the latch in place

“What is that?!” Ori asked, horrified.

“That… is our host.” Gandalf answered with a small shrug. The dwarves just stared.

“His name is Beorn, and he is a skin-changer. Sometimes he is a great beat of a bear. Sometimes hes a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However… He is not over-fond of dwarves.”

Thorin glared angrily at Gandalf as the others looked at each other, bewildered. Ori opened the door and peered out a small crack.

“He’s leaving!”

“Come away from there! Its not natural, none of it. Its’ obvious; hes under some dark spell!” Dori exclaimed, tugging Ori away from the door. I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“Don’t be a fool. He us under no enchantment save his own.” The dwarves began to spread out, curious now that we were all out of immediate danger. “Alright, now get some rest, all of you. You shall be safe here tonight.”

Gandalf glanced back at the door, and softly I heard him mutter “I hope.”

I glared up at him. “I heard that.”

While the others settled down on the floor, I looked around in awe. The house was huge, each support post as big around as I was. Everything had been carved with such care that I spent time just admiring everything from the carved chairs to the delicate chess set with small bears as its pieces. Animals of all sizes and shapes wandered through the house, regarding us curiously. Great brown oxen, a spotted pony. Dogs. Sheep. Even small field mice scurried to and fro, unconcerned by the commotion going on above them.

Growing up I had lived across the street from a huge dairy farm. I could remember each spring going to visit the newly born calves long before I found out their fates. Once I realized that most went to be slaughtered, I couldn’t visit them anymore and look into their sweet faces.

I paused in front of the huge oxen, their curved horns and angled faces so much different then thespotted dairy hefers of home. But the sweet smell of hay and the musty smell of animal was familiar to me, and vaguely comforting. I reached out hesitantly and stroke the nose of one of the large bovines before me.

“And can you guarantee our safety?” I heard Thorin snap quietly. I turned to watch him standing with his arms crossed angrily in front of his chest.

“As I said, Master Oakenshield,” Gandalf voice was clipped. “The man can be reasoned with. Give him no reason to cause you harm, and we will, for now, we safe here.”

“You trust this great beast? This… abomination?”

“Beorn is not without honor, and I suggest you not let him hear you call him such.”

“We should have turned and faced the orcs!” Thorin growled, turning from Gandalf.

“And that would have worked out so much better?” I asked, my own arms crossed. I didn’t like hearing him talk to Gandalf that way. After all, Gandalf had yet to steer us wrong. Kind of.

“You have something to say?” Thorin looked up at me, his jaw flexing.

“Only that Gandalf has saved our asses more than once. If he says we can trust Beorn, then we can trust him.”

“The all knowing Talya has spoken,” Thorin’s voice was snide.

“Stop acting like a brat!” I snapped. “What else would you have us do? Do you honestly think any of us are in the shape to fight? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you are favoring your knee again, Oakenshield. We barely escaped with our lives last time. I, personally, would much prefer being eaten by a damn bear then tortured to death by Azog and his horde. I’m pretty sure the others feel the same way.”

“Perhaps you think so highly of being a bears’ lunch, and becoming no more than a pile of shite on the floor, but I would rather die with a sword in my hand.”

“You, of all people, should know that Azog would all too gladly torture you and the rest of us, should he take us alive, and maybe that’s okay with you. Maybe it will make you feel more noble if you suffer in silence as he breaks your body. But personally? I don’t find the idea of being raped and tortured all that fucking appealing. So Go. By all means, die because you are too god damn stubborn to see when a tactical retreat is in order. But leave the rest of us out of it.”

Thorin glared at me and, without a word, he brushed passed me and joined the others across the house.

“You, I think, are the only one who has ever dared speak to him thus,” Gandalf said quietly. I had almost forgotten he was there.

“Yeah, well, he fucking deserves it.”

“No doubt. But he is a dwarf, and that means he is stubborn. His people are over-proud and slow to ask for help. Which is part why the anger of the elves’ betrayal rankles him so. Staying here is too much like cowardice for his taste, and it is a bitter pill to swallow to realize that he can, at the moment, do nothing.”

I didn’t answer and instead went back to my previous spot amongst the animals. At least they didn’t talk back.

Chapter Text

Long after my companions slept, I stayed awake. As tired as I was, I just couldn’t settle down. The argument Thorin and I had had was fresh in my mind and I couldn’t get over my irritation for him just then. He was behaving like a stubborn little boy who couldn’t get his way, and it made me angry.

I took to nibbling on a bit of left-over dried jerky that Bombur had prepared from the scraps of a small buck Kili had taken down a few days prior. It was tough and tasteless, but I found myself to be fairly hungry after our run that morning.

It wasn’t long after I had settled myself in a little nook off to the side that all manner of animals came to sniff me out. It had not taken long for it to become very obvious of their distaste towards the dwarves, particularly after a large black dog hefted a leg and pissed on Dwalin’s boot. Me, they seemed endlessly curious about and, when I didn’t shoo them away, I found myself surrounded by sheep, goats, a small fox, four dogs, and even a spotted tom-cat who eyed me warily from his perch on a chair.

It was strange. Their eyes were so intelligent and self-aware that it was unnerving. I felt like I was being silently judged, and I wasn’t sure what the out come would be.

The small fox was the first to creep close. He eyed me suspiciously, sniffing with his nose outstretched. I couldn’t help but laugh when he jumped three feet into the air just because I shifted my foot. He looked at me reproachfully, and I tossed it a piece of jerky.

And so I found out that, much like men, the way to an animals heart is its stomach. Before long, I had given out the last few pieces of jerky to the dogs, foxes, and even the aloof cat. Even the few mice who approached me were given small crumbs.

It took forever to finally lay down and find a comfortable spot because, once the animals realized I had no more food, they began to settle around me. The large dog who had pissed on Dwalin served as my pillow while the rest huddled around, on or against me. Even the little fox snuggled up under my arm once I curled on my side. Finally warm and content, I fell asleep.

I woke up very suddenly and wasn’t sure at first what it was that had jerked me from my sleep. My heart was in my throat as I looked around, a very much unwanted wave of fear coursing through me. I noticed that the animals around me where all awake but, though alert, calm, and that did a lot in easing my nerves. When I realized that most of them were looking up near the dining area, my eyes followed.

Gandalf stood, speaking in low tones with an incredibly tall creature that I assumed to be Beorn. He towered over the wizard and would have even looked down upon the tallest elves. Much like the dwarves, he was thick set with large muscles. I strained my eyes to see in the dim light, curiosity now overriding the fear I had felt before.

I wasn’t sure if he felt my eyes on him, or if the shifting of the animals had given me away, but suddenly the great hulking man turned and face me. Gandalf’s eyes found my own and he smiled encouragingly and waved me over.

I hesitated for a minute, before slowly unwinding myself from my bed companions. I picked my way carefully over to Beorn and Gandalf.

I have been short and relatively slim all my life. I was used to being small. But standing next to Beorn made me feel positively tiny. The skin-changer was easily eight foot tall and so terribly imposing. His posture was easy and light, but it was like looking at a wild animal. There was a ferocity and a sense of unpredictability within him.

We studied each other for a moment. I shivered when the golden-brown eyes of his bear form looked me over. His face was handsome in a rugged sort of way, his jaw line sharp and angled. His hair wasn’t the mottled brown and grey as it had been in the movies, but much more the black that Tolkien had described in the books. It was long and shaggy, spilling long past his shoulders. He had surprisingly little hair on his face, only days old stubble coating his cheeks and around his mouth. Hair coated his arms and bare chest, the trail of thick curling locks spilling into the loose draw-string pants he wore. His feet were bare and though tough looking, surprisingly delicate.

He leaned down towards me slowly, as though not to spook me, and reached out a hand that could have easily encircled my wrist twice. I stopped breathing for a moment as he touched my shoulder and I winced, but he merely pulled away, a small brown mouse suddenly in his hand.

After setting the small creature down on a ledge, he stood to his full height and looked down at me, not unkindly.

“And what is such a little lamb doing in the company of dwarves?” His voice was low pitched and rumbling. “The Halfling I found curious enough but to find a female of man in their midst, well. That is strange indeed.”

“I am bound in this quest as strongly as any other in this company, Sir.” I said, my voice sounding so unbelievably small. He chewed this over for a moment.

“The wizard has told me of your travels and of your place within this…company. You must be an odd creature indeed to have been accepted amongst the dwarves. Halflings and wizards are one thing, but it is well known that dwarves are not fond of Men.”

“Well, Sir, as you had noticed before, I am not a man. And for whether I am odd, well, perhaps its best if you come to your own conclusion.” I answered lightly. He laughed at that, a surprising bark of a sound.

“Aged I might be, but my eyes are still sharp. A woman you are, and as fine as one as I have seen,” His voice was suddenly teasing and he appraised me appreciatively. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. “As for your advice, I think I will decide for myself what sort of creature you are.”

“Th-thank you for the compliment, and, too, for your hospitality. It is kind of you to allow to stay here and rest.”

“Now, little lamb,” he tilted his head at me. “How do you know I have not yet decided to eat you all for trespassing?”

“I think a good story should give us at least one days rest and a good meal,” I answered. Beorn laughed again

“This much is true, for even if the wizards’ story is a false one, entertainment is not often found in my corner of the wild, and a good story comes along but once in a great long while.

“Go now, and find your rest, little lamb. In the morning, I shall decide what manner of company you keep and come to a decision on whether or not I shall allow you to stay here.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Gandalf smiled at me from behind Beorn and I waved at him before making my way back to my corner. I settled myself back down among the dogs and soon drifted back off to sleep.

The others let me sleep that morning. Everyone was already up and around the breakfast table by the time I rolled out of my spot on the floor and, stretching, made my way to them. Balin shoved Bofur to the side and let me climb on to the bench. The others bid me good morning.

“You smell like dog,” Bofur complained.

“And yet, I still smell better then you.” I shot back. Beorn poured me a huge glass of milk and I smiled up my thanks at the skin- changer as he passed. He nodded in acceptance, and cast a long look over at Thorin who was sitting apart from everyone.

“So,” Beorn started, slowly. “You are the one they call Oakenshield. Tell me, why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?”

“What do you know of Azog?” Thorin asked carefully.

“My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the Orcs came down from the North. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved.”

His voice was detached but the pain and anger were still very much evident in his eyes.

“Not for work, you understand. But for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seem to amuse him.”

“There are others like you?” Bilbo asked, curious.

“Once, there were many.”

“And now?”

I watched Beorn turn to gaze at the small hobbit.

“Now…. There is only me.”

We all were silent as his heavy words hit us. This great man was more alone in all this world then even me. I at least had others of my race around, even if I didn’t know any. But he had out lived everyone and I wondered if he had the survivors guilt that so many from my home had felt.

Beorn sat down and we all began to eat quietly.

“You need to reach the mountain before the last days of Autumn?” The skin-changer said, finally.

“Before Durin’s Day falls, yes.” Gandalf answered.

“You are running out of time.”

I sat quietly at the table, along with everyone else, and listened to the conversation between Gandalf and Beorn. My thoughts strayed to our travels ahead as the two began to discuss Mirkwood. I really wasn’t looking forward to our imprisonment by Thranduil, and I wondered how he would react to my presence.

“What do you mean?” Thorin’s voice brought me back to the present.

“These lands are crawling with Orcs. Their numbers are growing and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive.”

Beorn stood up from his chair and looked us all over.

“I don’t like dwarves. They’re greedy and blind, blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own.” He scooped up a small mouse that Bofur had brushed off his arm. I frowned at him and looked back up at Beorn as he approached Thorin slowly.

“But Orcs I hate more. What do you need?”

“Some of our company is still injured from our fight, Sir.” I said softly. Thorin looked at me sharply. “All that we ask is a few days rest and supplies for our travels through Mirkwood.”

Beorn turned slowly to face me. He walked back to stand in front of me before slowly holding out his hand. I gladly took the small mouse in my hand, gently stroking its head.

“For you, little lamb,” He smiled and winked, his face impish suddenly. “I would put up with dwarves for an eternity.”

I blushed crimson and he laughed again, walking away and leaving us to finish breakfast. Everyone stared at me before breaking out into laughs, teasing me endlessly about ‘taming the wild beast.’ Thorin was the only one who stayed quiet. When he stood and left the house abruptly, I frowned.

I excused myself from the group after telling them all to shut the hell up, and followed after Thorin.

I closed the door solidly behind me, gladly shutting the voices of the dwarves out, who had begun to teasingly bet when the wedding between Beorn and I would be. I leaned against the solid wood a moment, rolling my eyes.

I pushed off of the door and went looking for the stubborn dwarf. It didn’t take me long before I found him staring off in the distance at the back of the huge house.

“Thorin..?” I asked. I was still irritated, but that did not mean I wasn’t concerned for the jerk. He was back to being the very much stoic and brooding self he had been when we had first met and I didn‘t like it.

He turned his head only slightly but other then that stayed silent.

“What’s wrong?” The moment the words left my mouth, I winced. Thorin glanced at me.

“An enemy I long thought dead has come back to haunt me. We still have leagues to go ‘ere we reach our destination, and Durin’s day is fast approaching,. Yet here we are, begging help from a skin-changer.”

“You’re frustrated, and I understand that. I can not begin to imagine how you feel about Azog, and I won’t try. And as far as begging from a skin-changer, well, I’ll have you know I did not beg once. There is a lot to be said for simply asking.”

“Indeed,” Thorin let out a snort. “He seems rather fond of you, at least.”

“Well, I am charming.”

“Charming? Hardly. You butt heads with me at every turn.” He argued, turning to face me now, frowning.

“It wouldn’t happen so often if you weren’t such an ass.” I retorted.

“Why must you disrespect me so? No one has ever dared to speak to me as you do.”

“Because you need it. Everyone else is so busy kissing the ground you walk on to realize when you are being unreasonable. Don’t get me wrong, Thorin, I respect the hell out of you and all that you’ve done and been through for your people. But you let your anger get the better of you way too often, and one of these days, its going to get not only you but everyone you care for in deep shit.”

“You speak as though you do not ever get angry at your lot in life,” Thorin growled suddenly.

“Damn straight I do. But at least when I get pissy, the only person I am getting in trouble is myself. You mouth off to the wrong person or react hastily, and suddenly we are all in trouble.”

Thorin’s jaw worked and, despite the fact that I was very irritated, I found the familiar gesture endearing. He let out a long steadying breath.

“My words yesterday were poorly spoken,” He admitted after a pause. “But I do resent your implied words that I do not care for my people as much as you. That I would have truly charged head long into a fray that I knew we could never hope to win because I had too much pride to ask for assistance from Beorn.”

Though he kept his tone even, there was a hint of hurt there and I felt guilty suddenly. I knew Thorin well enough by now to realize that he often spoke words in anger that he did not truly mean and, while that didn’t make it right, I should have known better then to rise to his bait. I looked down and shuffled uncomfortably.

“I didn’t mean to imply that, Thorin. I know that you put aside your pride to ask for help from the elves, and they refused. I know that you have begged and groveled and worked your ass off to scrape out a living for those you love.” I sighed and looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m really sorry I said that to you.”

Thorin took a long steadying breath, closed his eyes, and sighed. When he opened his eyes again, I was thankful to see that he no longer looked quite so sad and serious.

“Is the all-knowing Talya apologizing? To me? Quickly, call Ori to me so that he may make note of this momentous occasion.” His voice was suddenly teasing and I huffed.

“And that is the last time I apologize to you.” I muttered grumpily. Thorin smiled softly at me then and stepped a few paces closer to me. I shifted uncomfortably as my heart skipped a beat.

“Then I shall treasure the words always.” He teased, his voice soft. I punched his arm lightly and he didn‘t even flinch. “Truly, Talya, you are as stubborn and prideful as any dwarf I have known. I accept your apology, and realize that I may never hear the likes of it again.”

“You are really an ass, you know that, right?”

“So you have said.” After my conversation with Thorin, we returned to the company, who quickly resumed their earlier teasing. While Thorin was still very much somber, it was obvious he was putting in an effort to be light-hearted again. As night fell, he himself led a few dwarven songs that he had grown up with and I smiled at the effort. I loved how Fili and Kili lit up when their uncle joined us in our banter and jokes, and it seemed that their reaction alone made Thorin try harder.

The next day was spent repairing our clothes, sharpening our weapons and, in at least my case, bathing. It had been weeks since Rivendell, and I was longing for a chance to wash my hair and the rest of me thoroughly. Once Beorn had assured me I would be safe at the large pond in his territory, and after cheekily asking if I was sure I did not want his company, I set off to wash, a thick wool towel in hand and several dogs trotting after me.

I made sure to check my surroundings before tugging off my clothes and slipping into the large spring-fed pond. The water was warm, at least in the shallows, and I set about washing with a woolen cloth. The dogs sat around the edge of the pond and I wondered if Beorn had told them to watch over me. After that thought came the suspicion that he would be later asking the animals to describe what they saw.

Gandalf had made mention that the animals could speak, but I had yet to hear a word. When I had casually brought this up to Beorn, he had smiled broadly and answered me in a soft tone, saying that all creatures of earth spoke if you were willing to listen.

The sun was high up when I finally slipped from the water and dried off. I tugged on a white linen shirt and dark pants that Bilbo had leant me. They were quite tight across my chest and ass, but I suppose I couldn’t really complain. It gave me a chance to wash my clothes at least. I had wanted to refuse but Bilbo had insisted, pointing out that he had not lost his belongings, unlike the rest of us, and that it was the least he could do for all the times I had stood up for him. The gesture was touching, and so I accepted.

I was singing loudly while in the middle of washing my clothes when a low-toned growl made me jerk my head up. One of the dogs, a brindle bitch, was growling with her hackles raised, starring at the trees and brush nearby. I quickly dropped the shirt in my hand and grabbed for my sword, pulling the blade free from its sheath and coming to stand on the shore.

Thorin slowly came out of the brush, his hands held up with an amused look on his face.

“Christ, Thorin, you scared the hell out of me,” I barked, my heart racing. He bowed his head at me as he approached.

“I apologize. My nephews were concerned that you were taking so long, but also did not want to disturb your bathing. Beorn assured us you were well, but I decided to scout the area myself to be sure.”

I wasn’t sure it was possible, but my face paled at the same time that a thick blush began to creep up.

“So…. How long have you been standing there?” I asked quickly, putting away my sword and returning to washing just to I wouldn’t have to look him in the eye.

“Long enough to hear the racket you would pass for singing.” He answered easily. I glowered at him and I flung my very wet shirt at him.

“That was rude. I express my concern for your safety, and yet you assault me. I am wounded.” Thorin put an open palm over his heart. I rolled my eyes and he took that moment to chuck my sodden shirt back at me. It caught me off guard and, as I made to grab for the shirt, I slipped and fell solidly on my ass back into the pond. I sputtered as water splashed me in the face.

Thorin laughed softly, then walked over to the edge of the water. He held out his hand to me and I begrudgingly took it. He helped to my feet and, as I regained my footing, I noticed that the laughter died in his eyes. Something else I couldn’t recognize replaced it, and I caught his eyes roaming over me. I remembered suddenly that I was wearing a very wet white shirt. I swallowed hard.

Thorin dropped his gaze very suddenly and tugged off his cloak. He thrust it at me abruptly and I took it carefully.

“Cover yourself,” He muttered. “Beorn watches you as it is.”

Without another word, he turned on his heels and left me standing with his cloak in my hands, wondering what the hell just happened.

Chapter Text

I spent a few minutes starring off in the direction that Thorin had left in. I didn’t understand what the hell his problem was. Its not like he had never seen me in wet clothes. Granted, I was usually wearing a bra, at least, but it still didn’t explain his very sudden shifts in mood. I was beginning to think he had the dwarven equivalent of bi-polar disorder.

I tugged his cloak around my shoulders and headed back to the house, dogs in tow. I stopped and hung my drying clothes up in a low hanging tree, and set off towards the dwarves, most of whom had settled outside.

“There you are lassie. We were beginning to get worried.” Balin called out, waving once he saw me. I smiled and made my way over to the old dwarf.

“Sorry. I was enjoying the water. Its warm and so refreshing.” I answered.

“Obviously, you were enjoying the water a little too much,” Nori said, motioning with a piece of bread in his hand.

“Yeah, well, Thorin scared the shit out of me and I fell back in the water. He was gracious enough to lend me his cloak.” I replied tightly.

“Thorin, a peeper? Never thought the old dwarf had it in him!” Bofur called out.

“He just came by to check on me.” I snapped. I sat down on the ground and began to pull my fingers through my hair. It was, to my frustration, snarled beyond belief despite the fact that I had washed it.

“Come here, Talya,” Kili said, waving to me from his spot on a log they had dragged over. “I’ll sort it out.”

I turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. He held his hands up in a gesture of peace.

“No tricks, I promise.”

There was nothing for it. I sighed heavily, stood, and made my way over to him. I plopped down between his legs and crossed my own, resting my hands in my lap.

“Alright… But don’t be doing anything weird to it.”

“I would never! That would be sacrilege!” He gasped, mock-offended. “We have much pride in our hair. We only cut in when we are in mourning, or when we have suffered a serious loss in battle.”

Kili gently pushed my head forward and with a gentleness that surprised me, began to carefully tug the snarls out of my hair.

“You wear it down now.” Fili said, coming to sit down next to us. “When first we met, you always had it up. I was surprised to finally see how long it really is.”

I shrugged, and Kili tapped the top of my head, as if to say ‘don’t move’.

“It was force of habit, really. In the army, we had to keep our hair either up, or at the very least, off of our shoulders. I’ve always liked my hair, though. It reminds me of my mom.”

Kili continued to tug at my hair, apologizing when he would pull particularly hard.

“I wonder how you would look in braids.” Balin said suddenly. I looked up at him.

“I’ve had my hair braided before.” I replied, looking at him up through my lashes. Kili had pushed my head forward further to better reach my hair. It was true. I had done a single long braid down my back before, though it didn’t stay very long. I had never been very talented at fixing my own hair.

“Bah. That was an elf-lock,” Nori piped in. “A messy elf lock, but one all the same.”

“I was talking about dwarven braids, lass.” Balin answered.

“Isn’t that something special to you guys?”

“I suppose you could consider them special to us. We have our own way of braiding and twisting our hair that you do not find amongst any other race. It is rare to find any but a dwarf wearing their hair as we do.” Balin shifted in his seat and looked me over.

“If you would allow me, Talya, I would very much like to plait your hair.” Kili said from behind me, having finished smoothing it out. Despite the casual way they were talking about it, I felt like it meant something more than what they were implying. A small lump formed in my throat and I cleared it hastily.

“I’d be honored, Kili.”

I sat in silence with my head bowed and my eyes lowered as Kili’s quick fingers began to shape my hair. After plaiting a long braid in the back of my head and some fidgeting on his part, he had me turn to face him.

He began to braid my hair into sections from there. While his eye never left the hair in his hands, he would smirk every once and awhile, making faces at me while he worked. After awhile, Fili began to join in, and I began to laugh.

“Hey, now. Don’t be moving around so much.” Kili chided.

“Then stop making faces at me!”

“Making faces? Me? Now, Fili, would I do such a thing?” Kili asked, glancing at Fili out of the corner of his eye.

“Of course not!” Fili said, his eyes glinting. Careful not to move too much, I brought my hand up and flicked him off.

Kili was nearly done when I felt someone behind me.

“Here, lad,” Bofur said, holding something out to Kili. Kili took the small object, and quickly began to fix it into my hair. I glanced down at the braid Kili held and noticed a small silver bead there that looked very familiar.

“And here,” Nori said, coming to stand just to my right. Another bead, another braid.

“One more,” Ori said softly. I had not even heard him join us.

“And the last,” Said Fili. I watched him carefully detach one of the beads from a braid on the side of his head and hand it out to his brother.

My mouth was dry as Kili fixed the last bead in my hair. He sat back and admired his handy work. I reached up to touch the braids, playing with each bead very gently. I furrowed my brows when I felt a clasp on the back of my head and I realized, when Kili turned to look at those who had gathered around us, that it was the one that had been on the back of Kili’s head. I turned to look at Bofur, Nori, and realized that, just like Fili, they had all removed one of the many beads in their own hair and had offered them up to me. I remembered what Thorin had said about such gifts being a symbol of affection, and I smiled warmly at them, thinking to myself Don’t cry!

“Thank you,” I said softly. Balin approached me finally and held up a small silver plate so that I could look.

My hair style was done very similarly to Fili’s was, with a braid down my back, and two on either side of my head. I tilted my head first one way, and then the other. I beamed at Kili and, without warning, hugged him tightly, then turned to each dwarf in turn. Surprisingly, it was Nori who blushed the most. He muttered an awkward your welcome before claiming that he heard Dori calling for him. Balin shook his head and clasped me on the shoulder before walking away. One by one, the dwarves left until it was just Fili, Kili, and I.

“I don’t know how to thank you guys. I have nothing of mine to give you.” I said softly after awhile.

“You don’t have to,” Fili answered. “We have offered you these things with no intent on getting anything in return. Think of them merely as our gestures of gratitude. You joined on this quest despite not having any claim in it. You have risked your life for us and have fought along side of us.”

“Besides,” Kili said softly. “You are the only one I have ever seen speak to Uncle so and yet you still stand. That alone is commendable.”

I laughed despite myself.

“Yeah, well, I think he’d still much rather if I hadn’t come along at all.”

Fili turned his head slightly to the side as he looked at me, unusually serious.

“I think he appreciates having you along more than you think. He has changed since you have accepted a place here amongst us. I do not know what you have said to him in the past.. But he is much more light-hearted then I have ever remembered him being.”

“Of course he is. You guys are well on your way to claiming your home land.”

“Don’t sell your self so short, Talya,” Kili said. “You have become important to all of us.”

The heartfelt statement from the normally very playful and teasing Kili had me nearly choking back tears. The two coughed and turned away so I could wipe my eyes and save my dignity.

Once my clothes had dried, I spent some time mending them the way Oin had done with his own. Once the tears were fixed, I pulled them on and set Bilbo’s things out to dry next. I spent the rest of the afternoon sharpening my sword and polishing my bow. The arrows I had given to Bifur, who had insisted of re-fletching and re-tipping the most damaged ones, while crafting more to replace the ones I had lost.

As night fell, Beorn called us in for dinner. I was the last one to finally make my way inside.

I was greeted by all manner of animals as I came in and I had to fight to reach the table. I patted the head of my last obstacle, a large black ram, and was head-butted for my efforts. I fell on my ass, much to the amusement of my companions, and I watched the ram trot off with his head held high.

“Do not take offence. He only does that to those he is fond of.” Beorn said from across the room. I rubbed my now sore backside.

“I’d hate to see what he does to those that he doesn’t like,” I muttered darkly.

Beorn came over to me and, before I could argue, he had picked me up and carried me to the table, where he plopped me down next to Bilbo. A little bewildered, I brushed a braid behind my shoulder and adjusted my clothes. Bilbo grinned at me, and, when I picked up my mug, he clanked his glass against mine.

As we started eating, there was much mention of the braids I now sported. Nearly everyone complimented me, even Dwalin saying it was nice to see me wearing my hair in a proper style for a change. Thorin had eyes had softened when he looked over my braids, but when he noticed I was looking at him, he hastily turned his head and continued whatever conversation he had been having with Gandalf.

“The animals like you, little lamb.” Beorn said, once he had taken a seat at the head of the table. “Do you think I could persuade you to stay here? Together, we can build a might clan of skin-changers. Our sons will be as fierce as I, and our daughters as beautiful as you. Together, we would once more rule this wood” He wagged his eye brows at me and laughed heartily. I choked on the sip of milk I had just taken and Bilbo pounded me hard on the back. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and cleared my throat.

“I thank you for the offer, Beorn, but uh..” I had to clear my throat again. “I’m afraid that I am bound by contract to finish this quest. That, and I have become quite attached to my dwarven family. I don’t think I could bear to part with them.”

Gandalf eyed me sharply and it was only then that I realized I had called the dwarves my family. I ducked my head and was suddenly very interested in the cream, honey, and sweet rolls before me.

“Alas, then. I shall wander my days alone.” Beorn let out another booming laugh. I waited for the teasing laughter from my companions, but when I looked up, found that most of them were smiling warmly at me. Only Dwalin and Thorin did not look my way.

We finished eating and for awhile, a discussion started on what supplies we needed. It seemed as though it had been decided we would be leaving in the morning. Beorn offered the use of his ponies, and Gandalf the use of a horse, though he admitted he only had ten ponies for us to split amongst us.

Thorin, Dwalin, Gandalf, and Beorn spoke well into the night while the rest of us began to set out to find our rest while we could. I settled down near the wall, a shorn sheep offering itself up as a pillow. I pet her for awhile, my mind drifting off. The great black ram from earlier settled at my feet and once more I was surrounded by dogs. Once the shuffling of the animals had finally ceased, I pulled my cloak over my shoulder and inhailed deeply. Smoke and a comforting smell I could not quite put my finger on drifted over me and I snuggled deeper under the cloak, sighing contentedly.

It was until I was nearly asleep that I realized I was still wearing Thorin’s cloak.

Chapter Text

We woke up early that morning. With Mirkwood ahead of us, and the threat of the orcs hanging over our heads, the mood was once more subdued. We hardly spoke at all as we had breakfast and set about packing food and other supplies that Beorn offered to us.

At one point, I had mutedly handing Thorin his cloak back, apologizing for not giving it to him sooner. He took it without a word, and left me standing there, feeling suddenly very stupid.

All fifteen of us were given packs stocked with food, water bags, and, in the case of Oin and I, simple medical supplies. Once we were all loaded up with as much as we could carry, Beorn led us out to his pastures where the ten ponies and lone horse waited, already saddled and ready to go.

While the others chose their mounts and began to climb on, Beorn himself led a sturdy black and white mare to me. He handed off the reins to me and caressed the ponies’ muzzle lovingly.

“If you ever tire of these dwarves, little lamb, perhaps you will think of me and return.” While his tone was light and teasing, there was also a hint of longing there.

“I am sorry to say that I don’t think that will happen. But have no fear, Beorn. You will find a lovely lady and settle down, and have those sons and daughters you spoke of.” I smiled warmly up at the skin-changer with tears in my eyes.

“You speak as if you know,” Beorn said after a moment.

“Lets’ just say I have a very good feeling about it.” I answered.

“I will hope you are right, little lamb.” He very softly touched my face, then turned and, without glancing back, walked away with Gandalf at his side.

I turned and looked for Bilbo, who was standing awkwardly off to the side. It was very obvious he was not looking forward to riding again.

“Hey, Bilbo. What are you waiting for? Come on.” I called out. He looked over to me, then smiled in relief. He half-jogged to me and I helped heft him up into the seat. I mounted behind him, taking the reins in hand. I gently pressed into the mare’s side and walked to catch up with the others, who were only a short distance ahead.

“Go now, while you have the light. The hunters are not far behind.” Beorn called out, now that Gandalf and him were done talking. As if on que, howls sounded off in the distance.

Gandalf mounted his horse and without hesitation, dug his heels in and set off at a quick pace. Everyone set off behind him, with me lingering only a moment to wave goodbye to Beorn.

“You liked him,” Bilbo said softly from in front of me.

“I did. He is wild and unpredictable… But he also has a good heart, and has suffered a lot. As much as the dwarves have lost, and as much as you have left behind, you all still have those that care about you. If all ends well, the dwarves will have Erebor to return to, and you will still have the Shire. Beorn has nothing. Everyone he ever loved and cared for is dead, and the mountains he called home are over run with orcs and goblins.” I answered after a moment. Bilbo seemed to think this over.

It wasn’t long before Gandalf picked up the pace. We rode at a fast gallop through Beorn’s territory until at last the once great forest of Mirkwood loomed ahead of us. We slowed our mounts to a stop and began to dismount. I hopped off of our pony first, then helped Bilbo down. My eyes fell on the dark and dim forest ahead of us and an eerie feeling crept over me.

“The Elven Gate,” Gandalf said softly, motioning to the overgrown pillars along side a well-worn path.

“Here lies our path through Mirkwood.”

“No sign of the Orcs. We have luck on our side.” Dwalin said, looking around. Gandalf glanced at him before peering off into the distance. I followed his gaze and, far off, I could see the vague shape of a huge bear.

“That, and a huge fucking bear,” I muttered to noone in particular.

“Set the ponies loose. Let them return to their master.”

We all set about taking the supplies that had been packed onto the sturdy animal’s backs off and rearranging them among ourselves. I patted my ponys nose.

“Tell Beorn I said thank you.” I said softly. The pony nosed me gently as I scratched her neck. I leaned into her and thought of Grey-mane back in Rivendell and felt a small pang, wondering if I would ever see him again.

“The forest feels…. Sick.” Bilbo said softly, very slowly walking towards the gate. “As if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?”

“Not unless we go two hundred miles north, or twice that distance south.” Gandalf answered. He followed behind Bilbo a moment before turning to look at the rest of us. His eyes met mine and I nodded slowly. He seemed to look distant for a moment, then nodded back to me. He said something softly under his breath that I did not catch.

“Not my horse. I need it.” Gandalf called suddenly, startling poor Nori who had just started to unpack Gandalf’s horse. The rest of the ponies began to turn and trot away, my own giving me one last push with her snout before joining the others.

“You’re not leave us?!” Bilbo turned suddenly to look at the wizard.

“I would no do this unless I had to.” Gandalf glanced up at Thorin, then back down to Bilbo, who looked down.

Gandalf stepped closer to the hobbit, and I watched as the two exchanged words. I watched Bilbo’s hand brush over his vest pocket and I felt the chill again. Gandalf smiled warmly at Bilbo before turning back to his horse.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter that mountain without me.” He mounted up and turned his horse to glance back at Thorin.

“This is not the Greenwood of old. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray.”

“Lead us astray…? What does that mean?” Bilbo asked softly.

As Gandalf once again turned his horse, who was becoming nervous, rain began to fall despite the fact that it was still sunny.

“You must stay on the path. Do not leave it. If you do…” Gandalf hesitated a moment. “You will never find it again.”

His horse, becoming difficult to hold still, snorted and pranced.

“No matter what may come, stay on the path!” Gandalf called, suddenly kicking the horse into a gallop. The horse sprung away and I watched as the wizard took off, quickly disappearing out of sight. Behind me, Thorin began to lead the company into the woods.

“Come on. We must reach the mountain before the sun sets on Durin’s day.” Thorin called back. I slowly turned and began to follow behind.

As I stepped through the gate, I began to feel just like I had in the mountains before the trolls. I hated that I knew so clearly what was to come and I hated even worse that I could not warn anyone.

The trees climbed and twisted ominously above us, creaking and groaning almost angrily. Other then the far off snap of tree limbs and the rustle of leaves, the forest was eerily silent, no sign of any life.

The path we were on had not been upkept, that much was obvious. Broken stone lay scattered across the ground, great thick tree roots having long since broken through and twisted, claw like, along the path. Vines and dead leaves obscured the path, and we often had to kick away the debris to find our way. Every once and awhile, Thorin or Dwalin would step ahead of us and push through over-growth, searching for our way.

Despite the fact that it was summer time, and outside the forest the sun had been shining warmly on our backs, inside the forest was cold. I could feel the cold grip of gnawing fear in the pit of my stomach and I shivered, pulling my cloak tighter. I stumbled over a tree root and barely managed to catch myself before I ran into Dori just ahead of me.

“Air… I need air…” Bofur grumbled.

“My head… its spinning,” Ori said softly.

I had begun to feel it too, as though a blanket had been thrown on us, thick and suffocating. I felt disorientated and fuzzy, as though on the edge of sleep. Looking into the forest made the feeling worse, so I tried watching my feet as I picked my way over the forest floor, but my feet were blurred and sometimes, I could not tell if I was walking forward or backward, or whether I was moving at all.

I stumbled, and this time I did fall into Dori, who had stopped suddenly along with the rest of the company.

“Whats happening..?” Oin called out.

“Keep moving!” Thorin snapped. “Nori, why haved we stopped?”

“That path… Its disappeared!”

“Whats going on?” Dwalin snapped.

“We’ve lost the path!” Oin answered miserably.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. Ahead of us, the path we had been following dropped off steeply.

“Find it. All of you! Look for the path.”

“We should stick together,” I said thickly. “Don’t lose sight of one another.”

Thorin glanced back at me, then nodded.

“She’s right. Keep with in distance of one another. Do not stray too far.”

I searched along with the rest of the company, desperate to the find the path. We wouldn’t find it. No. Why wouldn’t we? We had only just left it. Gandalf would know… Except… where had he gone?

My head felt so terrible odd, my eyes vaguely unfocused.

After we had searched as far as we could, Thorin gathered us all together and we set out in single file, picking our way through the branches that seemed to grab at us as we passed.

“Conner,” A sing-song voice came from my left and I whirled to face it. A shadow ducked behind a tree, and I paused.

“Andrews…?” I called softly. I took a few steps forward before someone grabbed my arm. I turned around to find myself face to face with Brown.

“We can’t split up, Talya. We have to stay together.” It was Bilbo’s voice and I jerked in surprise.

I blinked in confusion and whirled around when I heard someone call out my name again.

“They are looking for me,” I said softly. “I have to find them. Andrews will be worried… And shell never… let me… forget…”

I stumbled into someone, and turned around to face the bloodied specter of the man I had shot to save Alicia. I yelled and fell backwards, scrambling to get away.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” I gasped.

“Talya? Talya.” I heard a voice call. I looked up and the man I had shot morphed into Thorin’s face and I went cold.

He crouched down, his own eyes slightly unfocused.

“Rest here a moment,” He said softly, concerned . He stepped back and looked around.

“Look,” Ori cried out in wonder as he bent down to pick up something from the ground.

“A tobacco pouch. There’s dwarves in these woods!” Dori said, peering at the pouch from over Ori’s shoulder. Bofur tugged it from Ori’s fingers.

“Dwarves from the Blue Mountains no less…” He narrowed his eyes, confused. “This is exactly the same as mine.”

“Because it is yours!” Bilbo snapped suddenly. “You understand? We’re going around in circles. We are lost!”

“We’re not lost,” Dwalin growled back. “We keep heading east…”

The voices became lost in my head.

“Should never have taken that path,” Brown said from somewhere off to my left. “Now we can never go home.”

“Never go home,” Downy repeated from behind me.

“Lost and gone forever, oh my darling, Clementine.” Brown sang.

“Lost with dwarves and hobbits and wizards, oh my,” Wallace said, letting out a rasping and harsh laugh that did not belong to her.

“Poor Conner. No home. So lost. All alone.” Andrews voice was so close, the last word said in my ear. I whipped my head around to find no one there. Goosebumps crawled up my arm.

I shook my head when the sound of arguing and scuffling reached me. I looked up to find the company shoving at each other, snapping harshly at one another.

“Stop…” I said softly. “Stop!”

My words fell on deaf ears, and I lurched to my feet. I gave Fili and Kili a hard shove away from each other.

“I said stop it, god damn it!”

The brothers glared at me, but suddenly Thorin stopped too, and looked around.

“What? Whats that…?” Thorin whipped his head back to the rest of the dwarves.

“Enough! Quiet! All of you! We’re being watched!”

Thorin looked up to the tree tops, and we all followed suit.

Out of nowhere, we were ambushed. Giant spiders descended on us, trapping us in between their hugely long and thick legs. Jaws snapped in our faces, wicked curved fangs brandishing at us and, before we could even draw our weapons, great, thick strands of webbing shot out and we were being wrapped tightly. Even as we were being hoisted up into the trees, I squirmed, my heart in my throat. I felt like I was being suffocated and I couldn’t bear it. In a full blown panic attack, I kicked out my legs and suddenly, I was falling.

I landed hard on my shoulder and I let out a muffled scream as I felt rather then heard a muted crack as my shoulder popped free from its joint. I choked on the webbing and I tried desperately to catch my breath, but the pain from my shoulder and the lack of oxygen had me continuing to gasp desperately for breath.. In the shadows above me, I could make out the form of one of the giant spiders before my vision grew fuzzy. With what little strength I had remaining, I screamed out one name, and then fell silent.

“BILBO!”

Chapter Text

Skreeeeeeeeeee!

The sudden noise jerked me awake, and I twisted, trying to get my bearings straight. I could hardly see through the thick gossamer webbing that covered my face, only shadows crossing in front of my face. A huge shape reared up, screeching in pain. It stumbled, then fell forward. I heard a few loud crunches as it hit branches down on the way to the ground.

A small shape caught the corner of my eye and I cried out in relief when I realized it was Bilbo. His shadow form began to cut the dwarves free. They slowly slipped to the ground where I could hear them yelling and cursing in frustration.

“Hold still.” Bilbo said softly, coming to stand in front of me. I tried my best to freeze, but my heart was racing again, the left over feelings of panic from not being able to move or breathe properly beginning to over come me again. Bilbo raised his sword and hacked once, twice, and then three times before I was finally free. I slid down the giant web and hit the ground, rolling as I did so.

I gasped as my shoulder hit the ground, the pain that shot through me leaving me breathless. I struggled to get my arms free, but my left arm would not obey me. I fought endlessly before finally getting my right arm through. I tugged and pulled until I was breathing in great pained gasps.

“Talya!” Balin ran to my side and began to help pull the webbing from me. When I could finally move, I stood, unbalanced, with my left arm dangling uselessly at my side. Balin looked over it with concern.

“Don’t… worry about it. We need to.. .Go. More spiders.” I gasped, panting. I held it to me the best I could and waited until everyone was free.

“Where’s Bilbo?”

“Bilbo!”

“I’m up here!” Called Bilbo from above. Something crashed through the canopy then, and I instinctively ducked as my eyes trailed up and watched as Bilbo fell somewhere off to our left. Spiders began to descend down on us, and I dropped my arm before pulling my blade free, knowing there was no way in hell I’d be able to draw my bow.

One of the towering behemoths came at me, its legging stabbing through the dirt and leaves, its fangs clicking, its many eyes shifting rapidly in the pale light. I backed up until I hit a tree and paled as the great beast came ever closer. It reared up on its back legs, its fangs poised to strike. While its head was back, its eyes were out of sight, and I took that moment to throw myself forward under its belly. I bit back a loud gasp of pain and thrust my sword up with as much strength as I could muster. As my blade sunk deep within the spiders’ thorax, it screeched deafeningly and scrambled backwards, its legs buckling and twitching. I held on to my sword the best I could and tugged hard. With a disgustingly wet sound, it came free of the spider and I was suddenly sprayed with thick, dark, blood.

“Grab a leg!”

“PULL!”

Around me it was chaos. Spiders came at us from all sides and we fought, hacking and chopping at the hellish creatures. Their screams echoed around us and the cries of my companions came and went.

“KILI!” I glanced behind me to where a spider had managed to grab a hold of Kili. I hesitated for a split second too long, and was knocked aside by a huge hairy leg. I went crashing to the ground and slid into Bofur, who hauled me to my feet by the back of my shirt.

“We must go!” Thorin called out, waving Orcrist. We took off at a fast run towards the direction Kili was being pulled in. Thick strands of silk began to descend on us, with the spiders following after. Above us, lithe and graceful forms began to appear in the trees, shooting at and cutting down spiders where they stood. One by one, the elves began to drop around us, bows drawn back in ready, swords bared. We pushed closer together and, just like in the goblin caves, the dwarves huddled around me. At the head of our pack was Thorin, Orcrist in hand.

“Do not think I won’t kill you, dwarf. It would be my pleasure.” I looked up towards the elf who spoke to find a very serious Legolas, his bow drawn with an arrow in Thorins face. Hair the color of straw was braided back away from his smooth face, intense green-blue eyes staring out from perfectly arched eyebrows.

“HELP!” I jerked my head back in the direction of Kili, who was still fighting off the spider, his legs half covered and helplessly tangled in thick strands of silk.

“Kili!” Fili cried out again, desperate to get to his brother. I pushed past Balin and Ori and took a few hurried steps in Kili’s direction, but I was checked by an elf. The hilt of his knife caught me in the gut and I doubled over, dropped my sword, and landed on my knees. I felt the blade touch the side of my neck and I flinched, the razor sharp blade leaving a hair-thin scratch.

“Get your hands off of her!” Thorin snapped. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and watched him stare down the elf who was now standing in front of me, his posture menacing.

“Her?” Legolas‘ asked, surprised. Thorin flinched.

Legolas relaxed his grip on his bow and carefully lowered it. He made his way over to me and, using the tip of his bow, tilted my face up. He studied me for a moment, then stepped back, looking over the rest of the dwarves.

“Search them.” Came his casual command.

The elf who had struck me with his hilt came closer and, with a crude smirk, kicked away my sword and pulled my bow free from my injured shoulder. I closed my eyes tightly at the painful movement, nausea suddenly hitting me.

The elf barked something at me I didn’t understand. When it was obvious I wasn’t going to move, he repeated himself and motioned for me to stand. I leaned forward and attempted to stand slowly, but apparently that wasn’t good enough. He grabbed my injured arm and began to pull.

“Wait, Wait!” I demanded, the pain becoming unbearable.

The elf hauled me rudely to my feet and, with the nausea getting the better of me, I did the only thing I could do. I vomited all over the front of him..

He gave me a hard shove backwards in disgust, leveling his blade at me, and I once again sprawled on my ass, not being able to catch myself with only one good arm.

“Talya..!” Balin called out, helplessly surrounded by our captors. Thorin was watching me with a surprisingly pained expression.

“I said leave her!” He barked. Legolas turned at the noise, and looked at my guard. He called something out sharply and the two held a brief conversation. The elf scowled at me in disgust

Legolas’ attention was drawn elsewhere as a tall auburn haired elleth came into view with Kili in tow. The spoke together, their voices serious. After a brief pause, he looked in my direction and nodded towards me. The elleth, who I figured just had to be Tauriel, followed his gaze, nodded once, and came to me. She helped me to my feet slowly, the curiosity in her eyes very much obvious.

“Where did you get this?” Legolas’ voice snapped after a moments pause. I turned to find Thorin and him facing each other.

“It was given to me.” Thorin answered vaguely. Legolas sneered and pointed the blade tip in Thorins’ face.

“Not just a thief, but a liar as well,” Legolas growled.

“He is neither. We have the blessings of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, and of Lady Galadriel of the golden wood.” I called out, holding my left arm against my body. Legolas turned to face me.

“If you have your doubts, look at my bow. Lady Galadriel herself gifted it to me,” I rasped out. Legolas gestured once with his free hand, lowering Orcrist so the point faced the ground. Another elf brought forward my bow and Legolas took it gingerly. He glanced out at us.

“Enwenno hain!”

The elves began to push us forward, flanking us on all sides. Legolas led the way, calling out orders in elvish to the warriors that still fought on the outskirts, taking down spiders as they dared to near us. I clutched my arm tightly to myself and glared daggers at the elf who had my bow.

We walked for hours. Tauriel stayed by my side, only glancing at me every once and awhile. She finally seemed to take pity on me. She called out for Legolas’ to halt for a moment, then waved him over. She spoke in soft tones, and he looked me over for a moment, before giving a brief nod.

“Your shoulder is out of place,” Tauriel said, her statement blunt. “It should be righted before the swelling worsens.”

I swallowed dryly and paled, if that was even possible, since I knew my face was already an ashen shade from exhaustion and pain. I nodded quickly.

“Hold still,” Tauriel leaned forward to grab my shoulder while Legolas went to brace me. I flinched as he laid his hand on me.

“Wait!” Thorin snapped from ahead of us. Both the elves turned to look at him. “She is my responsibility. I will help her.”

For Thorin, this was downright diplomatic.

“Come, then,” Tauriel said simply.

Legolas leveled a sharp look at her, but made no move to halt the guard who had stopped Thorin from advancing. The elf took a step back and Thorin made his way to my side. There was a pained look in his eyes. He brushed back one of my braids away from my face and I held my breath as he stepped behind me and very gently wrapped his arms around my middle. He held me tight to his chest and I felt a thrill that had nothing to do with pain course through me. Legolas watched carefully, his sharp eyes not missing a beat.

“I will begin to pull on the count of three,” Tauriel said softly, taking my wrist in her hands. Thorin braced himself and began to murmur quietly to me in soft dwarvish.

“One…. Two…” Tauriel began to pull before the count of three and I let out a gasp as my muscles and tendons began to stretch further. There was a point of sharp agony where everything was pulled past where it should be before my shoulder let out a soft pop and settled back in place. Tauriel gently manipulated my arm in various directions before letting go of my arm. Thorin held me a moment longer.

“Are you steady?” He asked quietly. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He slowly dropped his arms and stepped back. With a last glance at me, Legolas guided him back to his previous guard, and we began on our way again. Already, I could feel the difference in my shoulder. It was no longer a great stabbing pain, but a low, dull ache. Now it was only my heart that hurt.

“Thank you for your assistance, Lady Elf,” I said to Tauriel. She spared me a glance and nodded once, but did not speak.

As we walked, I could not help but watch Thorin ahead of us. His touch had been so uncharacteristically tender, his voice soft. I felt butterflies in my chest when I thought about how his arms felt around me, and how the scent of him still clung to me. I felt my heart constrict painfully when I realized something.

I was falling for him.

He was rude, stubborn, and his pride would be his downfall. But he also had a dry sense of humor that I adored. He had compassion in him for those he cared for. He loved those close to him deeply. His people adored him, as did his nephews.

The unfairness of it all threatened to choke me. He was fated to die and if I failed to save him, I don’t know how I could live with myself. And if he did live, what then? Could I really expect him to fall in love with a human woman?

The forest was already so dark that it was hard to tell when night had begun and the day had ended. The elves did not seem to have any intent in stopping until we reached our destination, and I envied their stamina.

Water was begrudgingly shared amongst us, though we were hardly able to sate our thirsts before the water bags were taken from our hands rudely and we were once again ushered on. I felt my eyes grow heavy and I hoped that we would reach Thranduil’s… Castle? Keep? Whatever, soon. While I knew the welcome would be far from warm, I did not know how much further I could keep up. Even the sturdy dwarves were weary.

It was late when we finally reached a point in the forest where starlight began to peer through the trees. I figured we had to be close because the forest did not seem as sickly as it had when we first started out. In the dim light, I could make out a wall, overgrown with brush, ahead.

Once we reached the towering doors, Legolas called out and the sentries posted there snapped to the side and the doors opened. We were ushered through. Words were spoken hastily between Tauriel and Legolas, and suddenly I was being lead away, two guards following swiftly between the tall she-elf and I.

“Where are you taking her?!” Thorin demanded. Legolas ignored him and I watched as a guard shoved Thorin back. He made an attempt to follow after me a second time, and I shook my head. He, too, must have realized the futility of it. I knew he wanted to fight, but I also knew he was a good leader. He would not risk the lives of everyone else just for me. As I began to walk out of sight, I turned to look back. His eyes had not left me.

Tauriel led me to a room not far down a side hall way. Where Rivendell had been bright and beautiful, Mirkwood was dark and foreboding. Although I was sure it had been beautiful at one point, the darkness that had crept into the woods cast everything in a sinister light.

She gently pushed me into the rooms and followed after, leaving the two guards to stand watch. Without a word, she patted me down more thoroughly, looking for any hidden weapons that had been missed in the whole me-vomiting-on-an-elf situation. When she found nothing, she straightened.

“Someone will be in shortly to check on you,” She said curtly before turning and leaving me standing alone in the center of the near-barren room.

I looked around the scarcely furnished area. It was a step up from the dungeons, really, with a small bed, a thread-bare rug, and not much else. I walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down, running my hands over my face. I was so very drained.

I shuffled further back on the bed and leaned against the wall, tugging my cloak tightly around me. I tilted my head back until it rested on the hard stone, and I let out a long agonizing breath. It would only be a matter of time, I was sure, before Thranduil would want to talk to me. Lowly human though I was, I would be too much of a curiosity to him. I worked my jaw, a habit that I had seemed to pick up from Thorin, and wondered if Legolas would tell Thranduil about mine and the dwarf’s interaction.

From what I remembered in the movies, his prejudices were colored very much so by his father. I doubted that he would have allowed Thorin to come to my aid in the first place had Tauriel not spoken. I really hoped Thranduil wouldn’t read into it more than he should. I was a member of this company, that was all.

Thorin treated me just like he would one of his own, even if a part of me began to wish otherwise.

Chapter Text

I must have dozed at some point, because the next thing I knew, the door was creaking open and a tall elf I didn't recognize stepped in. I peered into the darkness, squinting.

"The King requests an audience with you," The elf said. Despite his fancy words, I highly doubt that Thranduil 'requested' anything of anyone. 'Demanded' would have probably been more accurate, but somehow, a hell of a lot less diplomatic sounding.

I scooted myself to the edge of the bed and stood up, wincing. I had stayed curled up in one position too long and I felt very stiff. Clutching my cloak against the cold, I followed after the dusky brown-haired elf, the two guards who had been standing watch falling into step behind me soundlessly.

We were waking in the opposite direction from which I had come and took far too many turns for me to remember. When finally we reached a large open room, I blinked at the sudden torch-light there. I was brought up a few stairs towards an open dais that held a great many chairs centered around an open fire. Apparently, Thranduil did not feel the need to wave his throne in my face as he had with Thorin.

The guards stopped at the stairs and took up post there, the elf who had been leading me grabbing my arm and pushing me down into a bow.

"The female, my king," He said, bowing his head. I jerked my arm out of his grasp painfully and stood up to face the robed figure that now approached. A twisted crown of silver vines sat upon his head, glistening red stones clustered along the tines. His hair was lighter than Legolas' had been, nearly white-blonde, and came down past his hips. He had finely shaped cheekbones and elegantly arched eyebrows set above the same blue-green as his sons. As he looked at me, I felt a chill go through me. Nearly every elf I had met had emanated a warmth, an almost tangible light of life. Thranduil, however, was cold. Even the smile that tugged at his lips was a mockery.

"Leave," Thranduil stated with a flick of his wrist. The elf bowed and left us, but not before glaring at me.

I stayed rooted to the spot as Thranduil walked around me. I felt like an animal being checked for its readiness for the slaughterhouse.

"So," Thranduil said coolly. "You are the mortal woman that my son spoke of,"

I felt like replying with a 'duh', but somehow I did not think he would appreciate the candor. As the elf-king stopped in front of me, he plucked at one of my dwarven braids distastefully.

"Tell me, have the dwarves really grown so savage that they must bring a bed-slave with them on a sacred quest?" His voice was thick with disdain, and I gritted my teeth.

"I am not a bed-slave." I snapped. He raised a single eyebrow at me.

"Indeed. What else could you possibly have to offer besides that which is between your legs?" He glanced down and I fought the urge to pull my cloak tighter. Despite the fact that I knew he was baiting me, I felt myself becoming angry.

"You can't honestly think that is the only redeeming quality females have," My answer seemed to amuse him.

"Elleths, of course not. But a mortal woman such as you? Why, what else could you be possibly doing with a company of thirteen dwarves? Are you visiting kin? Or are you in search of your share of gold for your help?" He had turned and walked away a short distance, but paused and turned to look at me when he mentioned the gold. "If you think that Thorin Oakenshield will give you even a pittance, then you are mistaken indeed."

"What I am doing with them is my business, and my reasons are my own. I don't owe you anything."

I don't think people often disrespected Thranduil. For a dwarf and a lowly human to do so both in one day must have been wearing on him.

"You trespassed into my wood!" Thranduil snapped. He began to walk towards me, his eyes narrowed. "You and those dwarven fools. Do you think I do not realize what Oakenshield has in mind? He plans to retake Erebor. He plans to take on the great beast that lays in slumber under the mountain. And for what? Gold? Dwarves desire riches above everything. Their greed blinds them to all else. Even if it shall lead all others to ruin.

"How, may I ask, did you plan on taking a dragon? I have faced the great serpents of the North. I have felt their fire. Do you think it would be such a simple thing to slay such a beast? Or where you following the dwarves blindly, hoping that the King-under-the-Mountain had a plan?" He said this last sentence with a sneer.

"Do you think for a second that they would have hesitated to use you as bait?" Thranduil asked, suddenly inches from me. I tilted my head up and looked at him.

"Thorin would never do that."

The elf-king narrowed his eyes further at me, then he threw his head back and laughed cruelly. A cold began to creep up my neck.

"You have feelings for him. That is too rich," He made as if to wipe a tear from his eye. "And does your intended know of your foolish feelings?"

I froze and dropped my gaze. Thranduil let out another harsh laugh.

"I did not think so. Better for you, I think. The pity and revulsion I would imagine he would feel would break your poor mortal heart."

"At least I have a god-damned heart," I snarled. "You are nothing but a bitter and twisted king with no love for anyone but yourself. Inside, you are scarred and ugly and no amount of magic will ever cover that up."

With no warning, Thranduil backhanded me with such force that I went sprawling across the floor. Dazed, I reached up to touch the burning spot on my cheek he had struck. I looked up as the elf king stalked towards me, shaking with rage.

"Do not presume to talk to me in that way, mortal." His voice was low and cold. "You know nothing. Nothing."

"Then that makes two of us." I replied, my own anger making it impossible for me to, just once, keep my mouth shut.

"Guards!" Thranduil snapped. "Take her back to her rooms and let her rot."

The two guards who had posted themselves before the stairs marched up hurriedly and grabbed me under both my arms. They half-dragged, half-carried me down the steps. Thranduil's eyes bored into me as I was taken away.

Once we reached my room, I was shoved in and I barely managed to regain my footing to avoid falling. I had been doing an awful lot of that lately.

I ran my fingers over my cheek, wincing at the tenderness. I could feel the raised welts where Thranduil's hand had struck my skin. I was just glad that he had not had any rings on when he hit me.

I crossed slowly to the bed and curled up on it. Now that my anger was slowly coming down to a simmer, I felt a familiar ache in my chest as I thought about what the king had said about Thorin. While I knew Thranduil was deliberately trying to be hurtful, I couldn't help but wonder if there was any truth to his words. If so, it was far better to suffer in silence then face revulsion, or worse, pity.

I stayed in the room for four days, though the only reason I knew that was because once a day, a small cup of water and a hard piece of bread were shoved into my room. With no windows to let the light in from outside, I could not tell day from night. At first, I had taken to striking and kicking the door in an impotent rage. I screamed my voice hoarse, calling Thranduil a coward and an idiot, and so much worse. When I could no longer talk and my knuckles were long passed raw from striking the thick wooden door, I sat down and cried in frustration. Soon, I could no longer even do that, far too exhausted for tears to form.

The door finally opened and the two guards stepped in along with three female elves. A water skin was thrust at me along with a light meal of bread and honey. I drank greedily, not caring why I was suddenly being looked after, only wanting to sate the terrible aching pain in my stomach.

Once I had finished eating and had regained a small measure of strength, I was led into the halls and up a long winding stair case.

We had not gone far passed the stairs when we came to a closed door. One of the guards opened it, and I was ushered inside and towards the center of the room where a large wash-basin sat.

One of the elven females said something I didn't understand and she frowned. She reached out and plucked at my cloak, attempting to unclasp it. I swatted her hand away, but one of the guards grabbed my left arm and jerked. I hissed loudly, the joint still very much sore. The elleth reached out again and I once more jerked out of the way. Glaring briefly at the two male elves who stood guard, I tugged off my cloak and dropped it. My belt, tunic, and bra followed. With a steadying hand from one of the females who seemed to take pity on my stumbling self, I tugged off both my boots and the rest of my clothes until I was standing wearing nothing more than my dog tags. While I had not had much modesty in the army, traveling with my dwarven companions had a least made me mindful of my nakedness, and I could feel a blush creep up my cheeks. The females guided me to the wash basin and had me stand in it, the water cool. I downright refused to remove my dog tags but, despite my protests and feeble attempts to fight them off, they set about undoing my braids. When one of them made to throw out the beads, I cried out.

"No! Please!" I hated to admit it, but I begged. I had lost nearly everything of my own and I could not bare to part with those beads. I did not know if I would ever see any of the dwarves, Bilbo, or Gandalf again. She seemed to hesitate but nodded slowly and set them down instead on a shelf.

The elleths set about scrubbing me raw, speaking little to each other and not at all to me. I wondered if anyone even spoke the same language as I did, or if they were under direct orders from Thranduil to keep their mouths shut.

Once I was scrubbed clean and my hair was washed, I was encouraged to tug on undergarments, including some sort of bra that pushed my girls up and out in a very disturbing sort of way. One of the females pulled a long flowing dress from a satchel on the ground and shook it out. I eyed it warily as I was lead over to it. The elves helped fit it over my head and tugged it into place.

It was a rich grey-green color, the material a silky velvet. The bodice was tightly fit across my chest and if the neckline plunged any deeper, there would be some serious concern on my part as to whether I would start flashing people or not. The sleeves were long and flowing and cut at an angle so, while part of my hand was uncovered, the rest of the sleeve fell down nearly to the ground before tapering off. Around my waist was an intricately designed swatch of fabric that had silvery moon-and-star designs on it. Behind my back, it was gathered in a sash that the elves took no time in tightening. From there, the dress flowed out and around my legs, pooling neatly on the floor.

The elves straightened out the dress, looked me over, then began to fuss with my hair and skin. A powder was dabbed over the bruises Thranduil had given me and I cursed loudly, it being much more tender then I expected.

I was urged to step into a pair of very delicate looking slippers and then, finally, a long, thick, dark green cloak was pulled over my shoulders and fixed in place with a small silver clasp

The elves stepped back and admired their handiwork before two of them turned to leave. The third, the one who had saved my beads, tugged a small dagger out of a fold in her dress and picked up my old torn cloak. I let out a cry of dismay as she cut into it, her fingers working quick to secure an oblong shaped scrap of fabric. Once she had that in hand, she took my beads off of the ledge and quickly placed them in the middle of the cloth. She bundled it up and used a piece of leather thong off of the satchel to tie it off.

She stopped in front of me and gave me a look that was almost pity. She held my hand and wrapped my fingers around the small parcel.

"Thank you," I said softly. She did not reply, merely turned and left the way of the two before her.

The guards, who had up until this point stayed very much passive and silent, stepped forward. One, with a leering smirk, jerked his head and pointed with his sword at the other guard. Taking that to mean I should follow and not wanting to run into any more misunderstandings with the Mirkwood elves, I was quick to start walking when the second guard headed off.

I was once again led to the room Thranduil and I had spoke in before. Thranduil stood once more on the dais, but turned and looked down at me when he heard me coming. He again waved his hand for the guards to leave.

"So much more appealing when you are dressed as a woman should, and not some poor imitation of a warrior." Thranduil said icily. I did not respond. He smiled, his eyes slitting, and he slowly began to pace.

"I am sure you are wondering why I have had you dressed such," He started. "Well. While the dwarves have no uses, you, my dear, can be viewed as a commodity."

I looked up at him sharply.

"Our trading with Lake Town has been very profitable of late, and I feel the need to thank the Master there. You are to be his gift. Whether he makes a bride of you, or if he passes you off to each of his men to have their way with you is no concern of mine. All I wish to do is to indebt the Master to me, and if I can rid myself of you in the process… Well then. It is all the better."

My mouth went dry.

"You can't do that!"

"I can and I will. You are nothing more than a prisoner of war, chattel for me to use to bargain with as I please." Thranduil answered. I felt tears begin to burn my eyes.

"And what of the dwarves?" I demanded.

"They will stay in my dungeons until they are nothing more than dust and bone."

I glared at him and swallowed hard. I took a few steps forward and he turned to look at me.

"Do you really think you'll get away with this?"

"With what, my dear lady?" He asked sarcastically. "With bargaining you away? With locking up those pitiful fools you hold feelings for?"

"No. With acting like you are so much better then everyone else. There is already a darkness in Middle-Earth. It has already eaten away at Eryn Galen until nothing but this rotted and corrupt wood remained. Do you really think it will stop there? Do you really think you can just hide here forever? That no harm will come to you and the elves? I don't even think you are that much of a fool."

Thranduil had become so very still that it was eerie. He did not look at me, he did not speak.

"You are just delaying the inevitable by keeping them here. The dragon will wake eventually, anyways. And even if it doesn't… Surely you have noticed that Spiders, Orcs, goblins, and all manner of evil things are beginning to overwhelm these lands. You can try and stay here, sequestered in solitude and hope like hell that whatever is coming will pass you by…. But don't count on it, Thranduil, son of Oropher, King of Eryn Galen." I took a breath and spat out the last words. "Or should I say Mirkwood?" Finally he looked at me. He did not speak. He did not rebuke me. He did not strike me. He only watched me for a long while, unblinking, before he turned and walked away, motioning to the guards without ever bothering to look back.

The guards led me outside and I blinked away the sudden light. With my bearings lost, I wasn't sure if the sun was just now rising, or soon to be setting. I looked around, trying not to trip on the dress I now wore. The guards led me to a small group of four elves, with Tauriel being the closest. I felt myself frown when I realized she had my bow on her back.

She looked up at us when we approached and frowned as she looked me over. She spoke in soft tones with the two guards and then dismissed them. They turned and left me standing there, now Tauriels' responsibility.

"We are setting out for Lake Town. By mid-day in two days time, we should reach it, as long as we do not tarry." She said, looking to me.

"I'm walking in this?" I asked, looking down at the gown. I swear Tauriel smirked for half a second at my tone before she nodded.

"Brides have traveled further wearing worse to meet with their betrothed's." I frowned at the analogy.

"I don't plan on marrying anyone," I muttered under my breath.

"Move out," Tauriel said. The three elves spread out so one was at point and the other two flanked us at some distance. Tauriel stayed close to me. Every once and awhile, she would cast a long look at me, but she did not speak.

We walked on for hours, stopping briefly only to eat a few traveling cakes and drink water. I was not moving as fast as I could have, my few days imprisonment having leeched some of my strength. Add to that the fact that I was still sore from my fall away from the spider and I was miserable. I missed the others terribly and I wondered if I would ever see them again.

As night fell, the elves slowed and we finally made camp and what looked like an old out-building. No fire was lit, and our meal was no more than hard rolls and cheese. It felt as though I hardly slept at all before we were up and moving again.

Taking in the fact that I was exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally, and that I really did not want to go to Lake Town to become the Masters' pet, and I was down right morose. I trudged along as slow as I dared, not bothering to look at the forest around us. When Tauriel sent the elves on further ahead to scout, I barely even glanced at her.

"You are not at all like the Men of Lake town," She said suddenly. I paused to glance up at her. Knowing she meant that I wasn't a normal human compared to those that she knew, I shrugged.

"That's because I'm not." I said, with a dry laugh. She frowned and looked on questioningly. I let out a long breath, debating what to tell her. I reached up to brush my dog tags and, remembering Lady Galadriel, looked back at her.

"I'm not from here. From Middle-Earth, I mean." I said, finally. She gave me a sharp look, and I laughed again. "I know. I felt the same way. An Istari brought me here with the blessing of the Valar. I was charged with the task of helping the dwarves reclaim Erebor.

"Why me, I will never know. For some reason they thought I was the person for the job. At first, I was sure there had been a mistake. I was sure that this whole thing was just a dream, or a nightmare. It wasn't until we reached Rivendell that I began to understand. Lady Galadriel herself spoke to me. She told me of what she saw in me and assured me that I belonged. I don't think she has any idea how much I needed to hear her words.

"I have spent months fighting alongside those dwarves. Listening to their stories, laughing at their jokes. I have bled with them, and I have bled for them. We have faced tremendous adversity, and have over came it. Until now,"

I shook my head bitterly. Tauriel remained silent for awhile.

"Are you a Seer?"

I frowned, and she explained.

"Words carry in the great halls of Mirkwood. You spoke of the fall of Eryn Galen as though you had been there, and you spoke of the coming darkness. How could you know of such things if you hail not from this land?"

I winced slightly.

"Its hard to explain. I guess you could call me a Seer, in so far as I know of the basic histories of Middle Earth and how certain things are supposed to unfold. The longer I am here, though, the more obvious it becomes that, while the destination remains, it's the path you take that matters."

"If one puts their faith in fate, then that is not a comforting thought."

"It wasn't supposed to be. Truth is like that, unfortunately. It is neither good nor bad. It simply is. We can't change the past, but we can do our best to change the future, fate be damned."

Tauriel stopped walking and studied me.

"You believe Mirkwood will fall?"

"I can't say for certain. No offense, but elves are too slow to change. Most of the time, you are so stuck on the fact that you are immortal and that you came here first, you can't even see the merits of other races. If you can't come to realize that your lives are not the only ones that matter in the grand scheme of things, then Mirkwood may very well fall, and all of the rest of Middle-Earth with it."

"This is unbelievable," She said, shaking her head.

"I suppose," I said softly.

"Then again, Tauriel," She looked startled when I used her name. "Many things in this world are unbelievable. No doubt the curiosity you feel for a certain dwarf feels unbelievable, and yet you still find yourself seeking him out at night when you are supposed to be on duty, just to see him smile and to hear his voice."

She paled at that.

"How could you possibly…?"

"I told you, I know things." I answered vaguely. She very pointedly did not look my way when we started walking again.

"Kili is a good dwarf. He is a warrior, though he favors the bow, rather then the usual axe or sword his kin usually prefer. He has a sweet heart and loves to laugh, and he loves his brother Fili and his uncle, Thorin."

I stuttered over his name and winced.

"You do care for him," Tauriel said softly. "Thranduil said as much. He was tempted to throw you in the dungeons along with him, but decided that it may wound the dwarf to know that you were being sent to the Master as a…." She trailed off and looked off into the distance.

"As a whore?" I finished for her, bitterly. She flinched, but did not reply. We did not speak the rest of the night. When the other three elves came back from scouting, we set up camp and, long after the rest of us had settled down, Tauriel stayed awake, starring off into the distance.

Chapter Text

When we left the next morning, Tauriel was pensive. She had not spoken to me since the night before and I wondered what was going through her mind. No doubt I had given her a lot to think about, and whether she believed my story or not I couldn’t say. I caught her glancing side-long at me every once and awhile, though.

I could see the glimpse of what I assumed to be Lake Town through the trees and I felt my chest constrict. I was dreading our arrival there, and wondered just how it was going to play out. I would die before I let anyone touch me in that manner, and I wasn’t above strangling someone with a shoe lace if I had to. I was deep in thought when the elves suddenly stilled. One of the males looked off into the distance and called something out to Tauriel. Suddenly, things became much more tense.

“What is it?” I asked quietly, narrowing my eyes.

“Spiders,” She said softly. “Normally they do not travel this far North, but our attack on their nest must have stirred them up.”

“Dammit,” I muttered. I had never minded spiders at home, but that was back when they were small and fuzzy and vaguely cute in a horrifying sort of way. There was nothing cute about these monsters, though, and I was beginning to wonder if I had post-traumatic arachnophobia. I could practically feel my skin crawl as I imagined their hairy bodies skittering forward on their spiny legs

Tauriel spoke rapid-fire elvish to the other three, and they replied. They peeled off and Tauriel motioned for me to follow.

“We must make haste. The others will draw the spiders off while we make our way to Lake Town.” In an awkward movement, I picked up the bottom of my dress as far as I could, probably baring a lot more leg than was necessary. I began to walk quickly after Tauriel. In our haste, it did not take long to reach the edge of Mirkwood. Tauriel glanced back from where we came and hesitated.

“I can not, in good conscience pass you off to the Master as a… whore. I will lead you to town and there you shall make it known that you are a lost traveler, and I was merely your guide to the next settlement. Perhaps then you will go unmolested.”

I swallowed hard.

“Are you sure, Tauriel? You’d be going against Thranduil’s word.”

“I am sure. It is not right for you to suffer so when you have done nothing wrong.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded once and we set off again. I envied her fluid movements, her graceful and easy way of traversing the rough terrain we were on. I tripped several times, and I was sure that my legs would be covered in scratches. When finally we were well out of range of the wood, we slowed. It wasn’t long before the slow bustle of the town ahead made itself known.

Tauriel paused once more and, without a word, tugged the bow off of her back along with her quiver of arrows and passed them to me. Frowning, I took them from her. “The bow is not mine to keep, particularly if it was truly a gift to you from the Lady of Lorien. Your quiver was left either in the forest, or is in the palace somewhere, so I offer you mine as a replacement.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, Tauriel.” I said softly. “You are risking a lot.”

“As are you, and for a world that was never your own. I thought much about what you said. I have spent many years of my life content with being nothing more than the Captain of the Guard, working tirelessly to protect my home, never once carrying for those outside our boarders. My thoughts strayed to all that has happened in my life and I can not help but think that, perhaps, if we looked to outside our borders now and again, we may have avoided the destruction of Eryn Galen. I only hope that it is not too late to turn the tides.”

“I hope so, too, for all our sakes.” I paused, and smiled wryly. “By the way… I am Talya. It has been a pleasure, Tauriel, and I hope our paths cross again.”

“As do I. Now, off you go. Find somewhere to rest your head.”

She turned to go, and now it was my turn to hesitate.

“Tauriel?”

She turned to look at me.

“I know you have already done a lot, but if you could…” I tugged my dog tags off of my neck and handed them out to her. “Please give these to Thorin… Just so he and the others know that I am alright.”

She smiled and took them.

“You truly feel for him?”

“I do,” I shrugged. “He is a jack ass. He is stubborn and prideful. He has one hell of a mouth on him… But he has a soft side, too. He doesn’t laugh too often, preferring instead quiet mirth, but when he does laugh… It’s hearty and so full of life. The moments I have seen him share with his nephews have touched me more than I can say…. The tenderness and love there is astounding. He does not give away his respect. You must deserve it. He does not give away his love. You must earn it. But once you have proven your worth… He will die for you without a second thought. What‘s more is that his people love him and would do the same. And that, more than anything else, speaks volumes.”

“You speak so fondly of him. Does it pain you that he does not know of your affections, or that he is of a different race than you?”

“Yes and no. I mean… It hurts to know that the likelihood of him sharing in my affections is slim to none but….” I shrugged. “You can’t help who you fall for. And loving someone… Even if it is unrequited… It’s something that you shouldn’t take lightly. Who knows if, and when, you will ever feel the same again. Taking a chance on love is never a mistake. Ignoring it or pretending it never existed… Now that is wrong.”

I fell silent, and we looked at each other for a moment before Tauriel tucked my dog tags into her shirt.

“Goodbye, Talya.” She said softly.

“Goodbye, Tauriel.” I watched her turn and bound away. My eyes followed after her until I she disappeared from my view.

I placed my bow and quiver over my shoulder, drawing a measure of comfort from the familiar items. I reached up and touched the small pouch that I had tucked into my bodice, gently manipulating the beads within. Then I tugged my dress up in one hand and began to walk towards town. People stared openly at me in both curiosity and suspicion as I passed. As I looked around at the many dilapidated buildings, and took in the ratty clothes and haggard faces of the town folk, I felt guilty walking among them with such an obviously expensive dress and cloak, my cheeks rounded and my stomach not pinched with hunger.

As I neared what must have been the town center, I paused to speak to an elderly man, asking him as politely as I could where the Master was. He pointed a crooked and gnarled finger towards a large building just up the street, but did not speak a word. I thanked him and set off. Upon glancing behind me, I realized that I had gathered quite the following. The word of a stranger in town must have traveled quickly because there at the steps was a large man whose stomach was too well rounded, his clothes too fine for the obvious poverty and hunger that the townsfolk suffered from. I frowned, but pushed aside my already growing distaste for the man. Next to him, a greasy ferret-like man stood, watching me with interest as I approached, his eyes traveling down to my cleavage.

“Good sir,” I called out. “Are you the Master of this town?”

The portly man with his badly combed-over hair and twisted mustache looked me over and I lost all respect for him when he started at my legs, which were bared only enough so that I could walk without tripping, and up to linger on my breasts, then finally my face. I promised myself I would thank Tauriel again when I saw her again for not turning me over to this greedy and oafish man.

“I am indeed. And who are you, if I may be so bold as to ask.”

“I am Lady Talya Conner. My people were traveling north when we were set upon by a band of Orcs. I became separated from my kin and wandered for many days, lost. An outpost of elves from Mirkwood came across me and promised to lead me to the nearest town so that I may begin to search for my kin. I am sure they would be glad to see I had found a safe haven. If it is not too much bother, all that I ask is a place to rest my head. I would gladly do whatever work was asked of me to make up for my presence.”

I saw the wheels in the Master’s head turning as he took in my clothes. If he made the assumption I hoped he would, then he would be hoping for a reward for returning a wayward daughter to her kin. As a sly smile crawled across his face, I realized that he was also thinking of ways I could ‘work’.

“I am sure something could be arranged,” He said, a little too casually.

“There is no need,” Came a voice from behind me. I turned with my brows narrowed. A tall, handsome dark haired man stepped out of the crowd. For a moment, I wanted to laugh hysterically and kiss him. For the first time, I felt as though the Valar were really looking out for me.

“I have extra space in my home, and I could use a woman’s touch around the house, and with my children. I would not want such a busy man as yourself to be put out by having to entertain a guest.” Bard said, crossing his arms lightly over his chest. The Master stuttered a moment, and I could tell he was about to argue.

“Oh, kind sir, I would be so very thankful,” I turned and bowed my head to the Master and offered what I hoped was a charming smile. “I would hate so very much to impose on such an important figure as yourself, kind Master.”

“Oh. Of course. Uh. Bard… I expect you to take good care of our guest. And Lady Conner… Perhaps in a few days’ time… You would allow me to entertain you for dinner?”

“I would be honored.” I said with another bow of my head.

Bard watched the exchange with a bored expression before motioning for me to follow him. I bid my farewell to the Master and turned around to follow the brisk pace that Bard had set. Once we were a good distance away, I let out a long breath. Kissing that much ass was physically painful.

“Thank you, Sir…” I paused, waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Bard,” He said simply. “And it is no problem. I would hate to see someone such as yourself stuck under the Master’s thumb. No doubt he had a good idea in what way you could make use of yourself.”

The obvious disdain he held for the great oaf was fairly amusing, and I tried not to smirk.

“This is my home here.” He said, pausing outside a small two story home that seemed in better shape than most. He opened the door and stepped in, flopping the bag he had been carrying over his shoulder onto a chair. Very suddenly, three children came rushing into the room. An older boy who was the spitting image of his father, a girl who had to have been about the same age, give or take a year, who must have looked more like her mother, and a much younger girl who also took after her father in looks.

“Who is this, da?” The boy asked bluntly, his voice suspicious. The older girl looked me over appraisingly while the youngest hid behind her, peering out at me when she thought I wasn’t looking.

“Lady Talya, this my brood. Bain, my eldest, Sigrid here, and little Tilda.” I smiled at each of them in turn with the older two only watching me passively. Tilda offered me a tentative smile of her own.

“She is our guest for the next few days. Now run along, off to your chores. I must speak with our guest.” His tone was light, almost tender, when he spoke to his children and it was obvious that he loved them very much. His demeanor changed entirely, however, when he turned back to face me.

“Now who are you really?”

“Pardon?” I asked, stunned.

“The Master may be blind, but I am not. Your story made little sense and, no offense intended, but you are no true lady. You do not carry yourself as one, and your build speaks of one who has done far too much riding and walking. And if your forearms are of an indication, you have also wielded a sword along with that fancy bow you carry.”

I was floored. Even with my dress covering most of my body, he had managed to quickly pin point more about me than I would have ever given him credit for.

“Sir…” I started.

“Bard.” His voice was flat and I sighed.

“Fine. Look. You’re right; I am not a lady anything. My friends mostly just call me Talya. I am a fighter, much more than anything else. And while I exaggerated, I did not lie about being separated from my friends and kin.”

He eyed me warily.

“All I ask is that I am given a place to stay. I can hunt the lands around her for small game. I can help around the house. Please.”

He let out a long sigh.

“Alright. But do not make me regret this.” He shook his head. “I do not want any more harm to come to this family.”

The words alone told me just how much this family had suffered in the past and I prayed that I would not cause any more damage.

The next few days were awkward. Bard was civil, but he was gone much of the time, bringing home what money and food he could to support his family. Bain, more often than not, was with him, learning his father’s trade the best he could. If he didn’t have to speak to me directly, he acted though I did not exist. Sigrid was, too, was civil and, though obviously curious about my presence, she often regarded me a little coldly, and I wondered why. Tilda was the only one who was even remotely friendly though painfully shy.

I spent my time cleaning up the small home the best I could but was surprised to find that it hardly needed it. Sigrid kept the house quite neat and orderly and though I often offered my assistance, I usually felt more like I was in the way. After the third time in one day of Sigrid sighing in frustration at either Tilda or myself being in the way, I decided to take the small girl off into another part of the house, promising to tell her a story.

“….And so, the thief cut off her hair to save his true love from being used by the evil witch. Now that the princess’ hair was cut, it returned back to its normal color and the magic from it was lost. The evil witch, now no longer under the magic enchantment, aged and crumbled into dust.”

“But what happened to the thief?” Tilda asked sweetly, very much concerned.

“Well, something magic, of course. As the princess cried over her sweet thief, glowing tears appeared in her eyes, and where they touched the body of her love, magic swirled. It healed the thief, and before long, he opened his eyes, once more whole and healthy.”

“Did they wed?” A voice asked from behind me. It was Sigrid. I smiled at her warmly and patted a seat across from Tilda and I. She hesitated, but crossed in front of us and sat down.

“Well, first the princess had to be reunited with her parents. They travelled for days until they finally reached the palace. The princess waited on a balcony while her parents were told of her arrival. When they finally saw her, both her mother and father knew her at once. They all embraced happily. Once her parents found out how much the thief had given up to rescue their beloved daughter, they hugged him, too, and gave their consent to be married.

“Once the kingdom found out that their lost princess had returned… There was a huge party. And I mean huge. Food and dances and funny looking hats. Everyone was happy, though none happier than the thief, who had finally found love.”

“…And they lived happily ever after?” Tilda asked softly.

“Of course. That’s how all the best stories end.” She smiled brightly, and just then the door opened and closed, for Bard and Bain had returned home. She stood up and bounded towards her father, eager to greet him and tell him, no doubt, of princesses with magical hair and handsome thieves. Sigrid looked at me sadly.

“But not everyone lives happily ever after.” She said, her voice very small.

“No. But stories aren’t real life. Most of the time… You have to find what makes you happy and work for it. It isn’t easy, but nothing worth doing ever is.”

She had nothing to say to that, instead she stood up and, looking pensive, followed after her sister. I, too, stood and watched as the father and his children came into the room. After greeting them all and sending them upstairs to wash before dinner, he looked at me.

“Tilda said that you were telling her fairy tales.” Bard said, crossing his arms and watching me carefully. With the way he stood, and the frown on his face, I thought maybe that I had done something wrong.

“Yeah… I was just trying to keep her occupied while Sigrid was busy… I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have. It isn’t my place to…”

“No, no. If I made it sound as though you did wrong, I apologize. The girls have not had anyone tell them such stories since… Since their mother passed. It is something that I have never been good at, and there is precious little time for such things now.” He gave me a tired smile and leaned against the door frame.

“I love kids. I had a very small family growing up and I’ve wanted kids ever since I could remember. If something as simple as telling them a fairy tale makes them smile, then I am glad to do it.”

He nodded then and we waited in silence for the children to come back down the stairs.

Chapter Text

I found myself thinking much of Thorin and the company. I hated waiting for their arrival and, knowing that it would be almost a month before I would see them again was nearly unbearable. Add in the fact that I constantly had to put off a dinner with the Master, and I was becoming down right bitchy.

So, it wasn’t long before I settled into a routine. Once Bard had realized how well I could read, write, and do math, it was all over. I suddenly became a teacher, schooling the kids on the alphabet and word recognition and basic addition and subtraction. They knew the basics, but unfortunately, with as poor as the town was, not much stock was put into education.

Bain resented it, seeing himself much too close to manhood to need a ‘nurse maid’, as I heard him scathingly call me. Sigrid, however, loved the thought of being able to read as well as her mother had. Tilda was too easily distracted, much preferring my stories to my teaching. I didn’t really blame her. School had never been my favorite, either, and I had often spent much of my time day-dreaming.

I found, though, that if I wrote down the stories, she became a lot more interested in reading and writing. After nearly three weeks of teaching, I had already told her the Lion King, Aladdin, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty – both which she hated, because she never wanted to grow up just to marry a snooty prince-, Brave, Black Beauty, Spirit, and was onto Peter Pan when she decided she very much liked the idea of never growing up.

We had been in the kitchen when she picked up a loaf of very stale bread and hoisted it at me.

“Come on, Wendy, I’ll save you from Captain Hook!” She grabbed her sister’s arm, who just rolled her eyes and offered me a small smile. I threw up my hands in mock surrender and dove off of the chair I was on. I picked up my own loaf of bread and lightly tapped her with my own.

“Peter Pan, prepare to meet your doom!” I called out. What followed was an epic loaf-fight in which the lives of many crumbs were haplessly destroyed. I was struck twice on the head by Tilda, who I was surprised to find, had a hell of an arm for an eleven year old. Even Sigrid picked up her own weapon, a broom, and pretended to shoot arrows with it, like I had demonstrated to her with my own bow when she asked if I really knew how to use it.

I was running full tilt across the house, a very broken loaf in hand, with Tilda screeching wildly behind me and Sigrid laughing along with me. I had to nearly throw myself to the side to avoid smashing into the suddenly open front door.

Bard and Bain walked in with matching looks of confusion on their faces. I cleared my throat, hide the bread behind my back, and smoothed out the dress I was wearing, one that I had borrowed from Sigrid since, sadly, we were very close in size.

“Father!” Tilda ran at Bard with her loaf in hand, raining crumbs down everywhere. “Talya told the best story today about pirates and a place called neverland where you don’t ever have to grow up! And we had a sword fight!”

Bard raised an eye brow very slowly and looked at me. I smiled sheepishly and handed over my piece of bread. He shook his head as he looked over his daughter.

“Tilda,” His tone was very serious, and I watched her face fall a little. “Dear girl, you are holding your sword all wrong.”

I began to smirk as her eyes lit up. She adjusted the grip to mimic the way he was currently holding his own loaf and then she gave a war cry and dove at him. For the first time ever, I heard Bard truly laugh and it warmed my heart to see the normally serious man with a very dry sense of humor enjoy himself for a change.

I watched for a while as Bard and the kids played. He had even coaxed Bain to join in, despite the young teens protests. It wasn’t long before he had run out of steam after working all day and he shooed the girls away, telling them to clean up the mess they made. Bain went off to work on some math problems I had given him. Thankfully, he had a fair base already from working with Bard day in and out, so I had given him some mock ledgers to fill out on his own.

Once we had dinner that night, the kids headed off to bed. I tucked in Tilda and began to tell her the story of the Beauty and the Beast. She immediately despised Gaston and quickly became enraptured as I told her about the Beasts’ growing attraction and love for Belle. She protested heartily when I left off at the part where Belle leaves to tend her father, and even Sigrid wanted to know more. I promised I would continue the next night, though.

26 days had come and gone. No word from Mirkwood, though I wasn’t really expecting there to be. So far, timelines seemed to stay truer to the book then the movies so it would be almost another week before Bilbo would break them free of Thranduil’s prisons. As much as I found myself enjoying spending time with the kids and Bard, who had warmed up to me considerably ever since I had started telling Tilda stories, I missed the company. Balin with his warm smiles, Kili and Fili with their quick words and laughter. Ori, and his enthusiasm for art. Bilbo with his quiet wit. Thorin, and whatever he had come to mean to me.

I was standing out on the balcony, looking up at the stars, when Bard came up behind me.

“They have grown quite fond of you.” He said, glancing down at the ground before peering up at me with warm brown eyes.

“They are good kids,” I replied. He came to stand next to me.

“What if your kin never come?” His voice was soft.

“They will.”

“But if they don’t? What will you do?” I frowned and turned to look at him. He reached out slowly and took my hand in his. Little warning bells began to ring in my head as he drew me closer to him.

“Would it be so terrible to stay here with us?” He leaned in close to me and my throat grew dry. I cleared my throat and pulled away.

“Bard... I haven’t even been here for three weeks.”

“It is true that you have not been here long. But in these dark days, you must seize any happiness you can. It has been a long time since I have seen Sigrid and Tilda laugh as they do. It has been a long time since this house has felt like a home. And it has been a long time since I have felt the stirrings of anything for anyone.”

“You don’t even know me.” I argued.

“I know you adore the children. I know that you are learned. I know that you are quick witted and sharp-tongued. I know that you love to smile and laugh. And any fool can see that you are beautiful. The more I find out about you, the more I want to know about you. It is not love… But… If you stayed here with us… Perhaps we might both grow to truly care for one another.”

He reached up and touched my face gently. It reminded me too much of Thorin’s gesture when we had climbed down from Carrock, and my heart ached.

“I am sorry, Bard.” I stepped back from him and he frowned. “But my heart belongs to another.”

He let out a long breath and dropped his hand. He looked so defeated for a moment that I almost hugged him, but I did not want to give him the wrong idea.

“Is he a good man?” He asked after a moment pause.

“Yes, in his own way.”

“Then I will hope that he finds his way back to you.” He smiled at me sadly. “Would you have ever considered staying here, if it were not for this man?”

“Does it matter?” I asked. He let out a dry laugh and shook his head.

“I suppose not.”

After the awkward talk on the balcony, I found that Bard had withdrawn from me some. It made me a little sad to realize that we could never truly be friends because I did genuinely like the man. Maybe if I hadn’t fallen so hard for Thorin, I could have been happy with Bard. He was much more open and friendly then he first appeared and he loved his children deeply. Maybe if I wasn’t so foolish, I could have stayed here with the man who so obviously could grow to love me, instead of a distant dwarf King who was fated to die.

Now that nearly a month had passed, I started to get anxious. I found myself often starring off towards Mirkwood and Erebor, lost in thought. I felt the need to do something, anything, and it wasn’t until I had a vague dream of Galadriel that I decided what it was I needed to do.

I sought out Bard early one morning on a day he as supposed to set out for a two-day trip out of town, my bow in hand. When I finally reached his small ship, I called out to him.

“Bard? Can I talk to you?” His head popped up from around some barrels and he frowned slightly, probably noticing that I was much more serious than usual.

“Yes, Talya?’ He climbed down off the ship and made his way to me, brushing his hands off on his pants.

“I have a huge, crazy favor to ask of you that you probably aren’t going to like even a little.”

“….And that would be?”

I let out a long breath and chewed my lip.

“When you go out today… If you happen upon some strangers…” He frowned further.

“What are you talking about?”

“Dammit.” I grumbled, then decided I would just spit it out. “You are going to run into a group of dwarves sometime in the next few days. Please don’t shoot them, no matter how obnoxious they might be. They are going to be in desperate need of help.”

“Dwarvevs?! And how do you know this?” He demanded, his easy going demeanor suddenly vanishing. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Because they are the friends I was separated from.”

“…In Mirkwood.”

“Yes.”

“… And would the Elf-King Thranduil have anything to do with this?”

“….Yes.”

“Gods be damned, Talya!”

“I know! I know!”

He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair.

“I can not do this. The Master would never allow me to bring these strangers, these dwarves, into town.”

“….I know. You’d have to smuggle them in.”

“…Smuggle them? Am I a pirate now, Talya?”

I fought a ridiculous urge to laugh, considering how much like William Turner from Pirates of the Caribbean he looked like, but I somehow managed to smoother it. Who said I wasn’t growing up?

“I would have to bribe a great many people. How am I to afford that?”

“They will pay you. I swear it.”

“A pittance, no doubt. Dwarves are not known for their generosity.”

“Keep the dress I came here wearing. Sell it, or save it for the wedding of one of the girls.”

“No doubt I would be able to fetch a fine price for it, if anyone in town could afford such a thing. People these days are too worried about filling their stomachs to spend coin on fancy clothing.”

I hesitated and bit my lip.

“My bow.” I said suddenly. Bard’s eye brows shot up in surprise. “It is elven made and you will find no bow lighter with such force and accuracy.”

I gently tugged the bow from its place on my shoulder and, though I hesitated, I passed it over to Bard. I had seen him admire it from afar, but this was the first time he had a chance to look at it up close, to run his hands over the delicately carved wood. He was looking at it like it was a work of art.

“These dwarves must mean a lot to you to give up such a weapon. It is priceless.”

“So are good friends.”

Bard was silent for an agonizingly long time. I could practically see the indecision written on his face. He finally sighed.

“I do not know what I am getting myself into,” He grumbled. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.

“Thank you, Bard. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

I hated giving up the bow Galadriel had given to me. I felt like a piece of me was ripped away with it, but I hated sitting around and not doing anything more. I wasn’t sure if Bard would have ended up smuggling the company in without my prodding or not, but it was a risk I was not willing to take, particularly after realizing that I had come to be a major part of this story, whether I wanted to be or not.

After Bard left, I began to scour the town for Kingsfoil. I knew that Tauriel would need it to save Kili, and again, I found myself unwilling to leave this up to chance. After diving into a few pig pens, much to the shock of farmers, I had a few salvageable handfuls that I immediately brought back to the house to wash. Sigrid and Bain seemed to sense that something was up because they both began to work off their own nervous energy, Bain by mending nets and Sigrid by cleaning house. Tilda shadowed me as she usually did, and I found myself finally finishing the story of Beauty and the Beast over dinner.

When I could think of nothing else to do to prepare for the companies arrival, I eventually settled down upstairs in what had become my room. It had been the girls, but they had moved Sigrid’s bed into Bains’ room for the time being, and the sisters shared a bed.

Once I had set my head down on the pillow, I was surprised at how exhausted I really was. It wastrue that I had not slept well the past few nights, but I think it was the overwhelming anxiousness that had settled in my chest. I was hoping that I had not done anything to fuck things up mostly, but I was also dreading finally facing Thorin now that I had realized that I *loved* him. Would he really be disgusted? Or worse, I thought, would he feel nothing but pity?

I must have dozed at some point, because when something jerked me awake, it was nearly pitch black. I glanced briefly out the window to find that the night was cloudy, not even the moon shining through the clouds. I sat up slowly, but froze when I heard noises downstairs. For a moment, I was about ready to pass it off as Bard in the kitchen, but when I heard Tilda’s quiet voice, my heart was suddenly in my throat.

“Will they bring us luck?”

Despite the exhaustion I felt earlier, I suddenly felt as though I could run a marathon. I quickly slipped out of bed and threw the elven cloak over my shoulders. With my pulse thudding in my ears, I began to make my way down the stairs.

“I thought you said no one else was here?” I heard Dwalin demand when I had stepped on a creaky step.

“I did not say that. I said there was no one to concern yourself with.”

“Let us decide who to concern ourselves with,” Dwalin snapped back.

“Look, Dwarf, the only reason you are even here is because of her.”

“Her?” That came from Thorin.

I tried to take a few steading breaths before I stepped into the room. I felt tears well up in my eyes in shear relief of seeing all thirteen dwarves and one hobbit before me. Granted, they were all filthy and looked hungry, and poor Kili was pale, but they were here. Alive.

“Hey, guys,” I said, rather lamely.

“Talya…”

“Thank Mahal…”

Suddenly I was being mobbed. Bilbo hugged me solidly around the middle while Fili and Kili all but tackled me from the sides. I was given so many hugs and words of welcome that I hardly knew what to say. When finally the crowd began to recede, I realized that only Dwalin and Thorin had remained where they stood. Dwalin looked irritated while Thorin’s face was merely passive. I felt a painful lurch when I looked in his eyes and saw nothing.

“How did you come to be here, lassie? Thranduil has us believe….” Balin trailed off, obviously not wanting to say allowed just what the fucker had them believing. I glanced at Kili, then to Bard, almost apologetically.

“Tauriel,” I stated simply. As if on que, Kili’s head snapped up to look at me, eyes searching. “She was supposed to bring me to the master as a gift. But after a long talk… She said she couldn’t allow me to be turned over to such a man, and instead left me at the edge of town. She told me to tell everyone I had been separated from my kin and that she was tasked with delivering me to the nearest settlement. I came to the Master, who come to find out is a seedy, creepy, perverted old asshole, and asked for refuge. He offered me a place to stay with him and the look in his eyes told me exactly how I could repay him…” I trailed off and shuddered a little at the thought of that creeps hands on me.

“I was very close to telling him to go to hell when Bard here was kind enough to speak up. Though whether he was saving me from the Master, or the Master from me, I don’t really know.”

I grinned at Bard and he smiled despite himself. Thorin frowned.

“And you did this out of the goodness of your heart?” He asked, very much sarcastic.

“I am not greedy, nor am I cruel. I would not allow anyone, woman or otherwise, to fall under the Master’s thumb.” Bard replied tartly.

Thorin grunted, but before he could reply, I cleared my throat.

“Alright, guys. Let’s get you all dried off and in some clean clothes. You kind of… stink.”

“We just crawled out of a toilet. Of course we stink.” Bofur grumbled.

“Sigrid, Tilda, why don’t you two find some towels for these guys? Bard, Bain… I am sure you guys could find some clothes you could lend them while their things are washed and dried.”

When at long last, everyone was dried off and in clean clothes, the girls and I set the company up in front of the fire place. Every spare towel, blanket, and scrap of cloth had gone towards making them comfortable and I really hoped that they had given Bard a fair amount of pay. He had yet to gripe about it, so I could only assume he had no complaints.

“Are you alright, Kili?” I asked softly, crouching next to him after everyone was settled.

“As you have always said, I will live.”

I frowned at his tone and tugged at the blanket to look at the hole in his leg. I winced.

“Oin has already seen to it, Talya. I will be fine.” He looked me over. “Are you alright? When Thranduil told us what he had done… I don’t think any of us could have forgiven ourselves if that is what had truly befallen you. I have never seen Uncle so distraught.”

“I’m fine, Kili. Bard has been nothing but a gentleman.”

“Good. Anyone of us would kill him if he so much as laid a hand on you.”

I rolled my eyes and finally lowered myself to sit next to Kili. He let out a breath of air, but stopped, as though he had been about to speak. I glanced at him and, by the expression on his face, had a good feeling who he wanted to talk about, if not what.

“So. Tauriel, huh?” I asked quietly. He practically choked.

“How… Did she..? I mean… What?” He sputtered. I laughed.

“Just spit it out, Kili.” He gave me a dirty look, obviously not amused by my obvious amusement. He sighed.

“You said you two talked, earlier.”

“Yeah.”

“What did you say to her?”

“We talked about a lot. Why?”

“Because,” Kili grunted in frustration. “She changed.”

“How so?”

“Because… Before she left, I assume to take you here, she often came down to the prisons. She never talked much and seemed very aloof. I would talk to her but she would ignore me. But when she came back… She spoke to Thorin, first, though what of I could not say. All I know of that is he said she claimed you were well. I do not know what proof she offered, but he seemed rather certain that you were, at least, still alive.

“I asked her about you when she passed, and she seemed surprised that we all cared so much for your welfare. I told her that we had been through much together, and that you were just as much a member of our group as any other. She had smiled then… and suddenly we talked. About everything under the moon and sun. She was no longer some high and mighty elf…She became so much more real. I am not sure if she talked to me because I was the only one willing, or if she had another reason…

“I began to look forward to her nightly visits, mostly because it was a break from the boredom of sitting in a cage all day with naught to do. But as I learned more about her….”

He trailed off, seeming embarrassed. I smiled.

“You don’t have to explain it to me, Kili. I understand. Maybe it was the fact that you were the only one to speak to her the way you did that first caught her eye. Maybe it was your easy smiles and laugh that kept her coming back Say anything you want about elves, but most of them hold a lot of joy in life and in little things. I don’t think there is much in Mirkwood to be joyful about, so naturally your easy nature attracted her.”

He fell silent and I watched a small blush crawl up his cheek. I tried not to laugh, since he was obviously embarrassed. Ever the mouthy-one, he decided to back track.

“A joy in little things?” Kili smirked. “I’ll have you know, that despite the fact that we are shorter then elves, I can guarantee you there is nothing little about us.”

I choked on a laugh then, trying not to wake the others who had slowly started to doze. We sat back and just enjoyed the fact that we were all reunited for now. I was about ready to say goodnight to Kili when Fili plopped down next to us, apparently having grown tired of Nori’s loud snoring.

“We are truly glad you are alright, Talya.” He said, bumping my shoulder with his own. “Had anyone touched even a hair on your head, they would have had to answer to us.”

“So Kili said,” I muttered dryly. He and his brother shared a smirk followed by a long drawn out look.

“So… Talya… Why did you give our Uncle your necklace?”

I froze and something about the way Fili said it made me pause.

“I sent it with Tauriel to give to Thorin so that you guys would know I was alive and well.” The brothers exchanged another look.

“You could not have written a note, or simply passed on a message?” Kili asked, serious suddenly.

“Because I didn’t think about it. I just thought if I passed along something personal to him, that it would have more meaning.”

Another look.

“Would you two stop that?” I snapped.

“Why did you give send it to Thorin and not Balin? Or Ori? Or me?” Fili asked.

“Or me?” Finished Kili.

“Why does it matter?!” I hissed, irritated that they seemed to be dancing around the answer. Fili let out a long sigh and shook his head.

“Do you not remember Beorns?” I frowned and suddenly I remembered why it mattered so much that I gave Thorin my necklace, and had thought to give it to no one else. My mouth went dry and I sat back suddenly.

“I gave it Thorin because… he was the first one I thought of.” I admitted softly, damn near silently. I hated them for a moment, for making me admit it out loud. I stood up, suddenly not able to bear the conversation anymore. “But it doesn’t matter.” Kili opened his mouth to speak, but Fili put his hand on his brothers shoulder and shook his head. I wasn’t sure if Fili figured I had enough of their badgering or what, but I was grateful.

“Good night,” I said stiffly.

I made my way back upstairs slowly. I couldn’t believe I had been so blind. I had all but told Thorin that I held affection for him, whether I meant to or not. The fact that it was true didn’t matter. It was what he would think that I worried about.

I crept into my room and closed the door behind me. My earlier feelings of happiness at being reunited with the company had all but dissolved. Granted, I was still relieved that they were alright, and they had all made it here but now I didn’t know how I felt.

Quietly, there was a knock on the door and I frowned, seriously hoping that Fili and Kili had decided they had not pestered me enough. I hesitated, thinking briefly about pretending to be asleep, when the knock came again, a little more insistent. I sighed and walked back to the door, opening it slowly.

It was Thorin.

“May I come in?” I could make nothing of his tone. I was terrified of being there with him, unsure of what he would say.

“Of course,” I answered, my voice a lot steadier then I would have thought. I stepped back and allowed him to pass. I closed the door behind him an watched as he took a few steps into the room and looked around.

“Bard has treated you well?” He asked, quiet. He was looking outside.

“Yeah. He’s put a roof over my head and gave me food. All he asked of me was to continue his kids’ education.”

There was a pause, and Thorin turned to look at me.

He came to stand in front of me and he looked me over. He looked down for a moment and when he looked back up, his face was so very serious, but his eyes were so gentle.

“Talya….” He breathed softly. Then he very gentle wrapped his arm around my waist, bring his other arm just behind my shoulders and he embraced me. I tentatively put my arms around him and leaned into his warmth, his familiar and comforting scent enveloping me.

“I feared…” He swallowed hard. “We feared we would never see you again.”

After a moment, we both let our arms drop and he stepped back just enough to give us breathing room.

It was then that something caught my eye. There, around his neck, was a very familiar looking silver chain.

Chapter Text

Thorin had left then, uttering a soft goodnight before he stepped out of my room and left me standing, cold suddenly now that he was not there. My heart ached and I was left feeling more confused than ever. The thought that Thorin may have actual feelings for me made my heart race and I thought back to the conversation with Fili and Kili. Was that what they had been trying to hint at?

I fell asleep rather quickly once I laid down and for the first time since Beorn’s, I slept well. I tried not to dwell too much on the reason why.

When I woke up the next morning, the sun was already out and I could hear movements from downstairs. I slipped out of bed and adjusted my cloak before making my way downstairs. Grunted ‘mornings’ came from the majority of the dwarves, with only Bilbo actually smiling and wishing me a hearty “Good morning, Talya!”

Bard was in the main kitchen making eggs that he must have bought with some of the dwarves’ payment. His face was serious until he saw me. Then a smile broke out on his face.

“Good morning, Talya,”

“Good morning, Bard,”

He reached out for a clean mug then poured a stream of tea out of a kettle on the stove. He quickly brought it to me. I accepted it gratefully and sipped on the beverage, glad for the heat on this cool morning.

“I am making eggs. Do you have a preference in how they are prepared?”

“No. I’m not picky.” I answered, taking another sip of my tea.

“How come he didn’t ask us how we wanted ours?” Bofur grumbled from behind me.

“Cause we aren’t women-folk, you dolt.” Nori answered.

I rolled my eyes at their grumblings and was about to take a seat near the counter when I noticed Thorin push a chair out between him and Bilbo. I raised my eye brow when I noticed Bilbo’s small smirk but said nothing of it. I walked over and sat down between the two. Thorin shifted a little too casually and rested his elbow on the arm of my chair. Fili and Kili snorted across from me and I looked up with a frown. I glanced back at Bard, who was watching the interaction a little too seriously.

Males.

I leaned back in my chair and stretched.

“So whats the plan for today?” I asked, mid-yawn.

“I don’t think anyone is quite sure yet, lass. We need to get our things together and decide just how we are going to leave here without anyone noticing.” Balin answered, dipping a biscuit in a dark brown liquid I suspected was some sort of coffee.

“As long as we don’t have to ride in any more fish barrels.” Dori said.

“Or come out of any more toilets…” Dwalin grumbled under his breath.

Bard came around and set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me, with a side of fresh toast. I smiled my thanks and began to eat heartily. I heard Thorin grumble next to me.

The rest of the eggs he plopped in the middle of the table in the large griddle he had been cooking them in. I grinned and watched as the dwarves began to bicker over who was to be served first. The argument reached all new heights when Gloin stabbed Nori’s hand with his fork after Nori attempted to steal Gloin’s plate.

“Oww! What in Dwalin’s name…?!”

“Don’t think I didn’t see what you was up to, Nori, you quick-handed thief.”

The two glared at each other before first one, and then the other grinned and slapped each other on the backs. I rolled my eyes at the display and pushed my plate away now that I was done with my portion.

Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda came downstairs then. Bain immediately made his way over to the stove where he poured himself some of the coffee, whereas Sigrid and TIlda all but tip-toed around the dwarves, as if scared they would be eaten.

I smiled warmly at Tilda and she offered me a small smile back.

“You seem fond of his children,” Thorin grumbled softly. I chuckled at his tone and shrugged.

“I love kids, and they are sweet. Tilda is a quiet little mouse until you get to know her. Then she opens up and becomes very animated. Sigrid is sweet-spoken and is really amazing at keeping house. And Bain… he is growing up to be a very hard working man with a mind for numbers. Much like his father, really.”

“You say that as though it’s a good thing,” He muttered. I thwacked his arm gently and he scowled.

“Don’t be rude, grump-ass.” Thorin snorted and leaned back, only to find Tilda staring at him. He suddenly looked very startled.

“Are you the beast in Talya’s story?” She asked sweetly. I groaned and damn near smacked my palm on my forehead.

“Tilda…” I groaned. She looked over at me innocently.

“What? He is really grumpy and hairy.”

Holding in my laughter was physically painful at this point. Thorin glared between Tilda and I for a moment before he let out a long pained sigh.

“Oh for Mahals’ sake, let it out before you hurt yourself.”

We set about cleaning up from breakfast after that. Bard had started to do dishes at this point, and I was about to offer to help when Bilbo suddenly stumbled in front of me, bewildered.

“Ah… Uh… Mister Bard… Let me help you out there.” He said, glancing behind me for a moment. I turned around to find Thorin walking away and Fili and Kili practically doubled over in silent laughter. I frowned and rolled my eyes.

We spent the rest of the morning fixing the companies’ clothes now that they had been washed and cleaned. Once we broke for lunch, I helped lay the table out with what food there was to be had and settled myself in a chair. Bard sat down next to me and threw a very poorly concealed glance over my shoulder before smiling at me and taking a sip of his water. I turned my head and glanced out of the corner of my eye to see Thorin standing there with his eye brows narrowed. He walked over and sat directly across from me.

Once we were done with our lunch and the table had been cleared away by the children, Thorin stood and crossed to the window. I watched as he went from very serious, to suddenly in shock. He muttered something to himself and I caught Bilbo crossing the room to look at him.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Balin stepped up next and I listened as he told the story of Dale. Thorin’s face became stony and he watched out the window, his eyes far away, as though he was reliving the moment.

“Had the aim of Men been true that day, much would have been different.” Thorin said, finishing the tale. Bard had stood and had started to make his way to them. He crossed his arms.

“You speak as if you were there.” He said, almost accusingly. Thorin narrowed his eyes and he turned to look at the man.

“All dwarves know the tale.”

“Then you would know that Girion hit the dragon. He loosened a scale under the left wing. One more shot and he would have killed the beast.” Bain said suddenly. I had not seen him come in. Dwalin laughed bitterly.

“That’s a fairy story, lad. Nothing more,”

“Theres a lot to be said for fairy stories, Dwalin.” I said softly. Dwalin just glared at me and I wondered what the hell his problem was. He had been a lot more abrupt with me lately then usual. Before Mirkwood, he had at least been less of a jerk.

“You took our money.” Thorin said suddenly, striding up to Bard. “Where are the weapons?”

Bard looked over Thorin and nodded slowly.

“Wait here.”

He turned and left, going down the stairs to the lower levels of the house. It didn’t take him long to return, a sodden package of wrapped leather in his arm. He dropped it on the table and began to unwrap it, water dripping steadily from the trappings.

When finally the crudely made weapons were revealed, Thorin snorted in disgust.

“What is this?” He asked, lifting a three tipped spear with the prongs facing back at him.

“Pike-hook. Made from an old harpoon.”

“And this?” Kili was holding up something similar to a hammer, but on crack. It was easily three times the size of my fist.

“A crowbill, we call it. Fashioned from a smithy’s hammer. It’s heavy in hand, I’ll grant you, but in the defense of your life, these will serve you better than none.” Bard replied, defensive.

“We paid you for weapons. Iron-forged swords and axes!” Gloin snapped.

“This is a joke,” Bofur added, throwing his… well, whatever it was he was holding, back on to the table. The rest copied the movement.

“You won’t find better outside the city armory. All iron-forged weapons are held there under lock and key.”

“It’s not like you guys have anything better.” I added. “This is the best Bard has.”

“Thorin… The lass is right.” Balin said from across the table. He walked up to Thorin’s side and as they spoke, I watched Bard’s face wrinkle in recognition. I inwardly groaned, knowing that he was going to find out the truth. I knew that he would see this as a betrayal on my part, since I had basically begged him to bring the very dwarves who planned on unleashing Smaug into his house.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Bard snipped. Dwalin bristled.

“What did you say?” The dwarf stepped forward, his posture menacing.

“There’s spies watching this house and probably every dock and wharf in the town. You must wait until nightfall.”

Dwalin glared, but stepped back. I shook my head and watched as Bard left.

“You guys are assholes.” I snapped, pushing up from my chair. “Half the town is starving to death and the other half is barely scraping by a living, and here you are bitching that the weapons he offers aren’t iron-forged. You guys are fucking warriors. Make do with what you are given.”

“Why do you defend him?!” Thorin snapped, turning to look at me.

“Because he’s risked a hell of a lot to help you guys. The least you could do is try to be at least a little fucking grateful.”

“We paid him to bring us here!” Dwalin argued.

“And a hell of a lot of good money will do for him and his kids if he’s locked up for treason, or whatever other charge that damned ass-wipe of an official comes up with. Don’t forget, either, that he saved my ass.”

“Don’t be foolish. The only reason he did that was to get after whats between your legs!” Dwalin snapped back. I narrowed my eyes and felt a wave of anger crash over me. I stalked forward.

“I am SO sick of everyone referring to whats between my legs as some god-damned magical, mystical object. News to you. Every female has it. You all doubted me because of it. That fucking goblin wanted to gift me to Azog because of it. The Master wanted me for it. Bard has been the only one who has seen me for me, and not acted like I was weak or unworthy because of my gender. So if I defend him, Dwalin, it’s because hes a damn decent person.”

Dwalin was left speechless, and I couldn’t even be bothered to laugh at the near comical look of shock on his face as I turned around and stormed away. Once upstairs, I turned into my room and flopped on my bed, fighting the over whelming urge to childishly yell into my pillow.

A few minutes later, I heard the creak of a floor board and I glanced to the door to find Bilbo there. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

“Is this wear you threaten to stick a sock down your pants again?” He asked, with a wry grin on his face.

“Ah… so did hear about that.” I let out a dry laugh and sat up.

“He’s jealous, you know. Thorin, I mean. He thinks you have feelings for Bard.”

“Bard is a great guy. If it wasn’t for…. Th… the circumstances, I probably would.”

“If it wasn’t for Thorin, you mean?” He asked softly. I looked away. Bilbo shook his head.

“You are just as bad as he is.”

“What, did you have this little talk with him, too?” I snapped, sarcastically. I winced then. I didn’t want to be angry at Bilbo, of all people.

“Yes,” Bilbo said simply. Oh.

“I simply told him that if he was so afraid of losing you, he should not drive you away.”

“Is he? Afraid of losing me, I mean.”

“You did not see him in Mirkwood. When Thranduil told Thorin of his intended fate for you…. I have never seen him so full of rage, even when he was sent against Azog. I believe he would have killed the elf-king where he stood, had he been able. And after… When Tauriel gave him your chain and your message… He leaned against the back wall of his cell and ran his fingers over the tags. There was a tenderness there I did not think he would be capable of.”

“Why are you telling me this, Bilbo?” I asked finally, after a long silence.

“Because I know how stubborn you both are, and also how blind. Like you, Thorin believes you could not possibly have feelings for him. No doubt Fili and Kili broached the subject with you, but Thorin was sure you could not possibly mean anything by your gift to him.”

I thought back to the night before and the brother’s prodding questions. I sighed and leaned back, unsure what to do with this knowledge.

“So what do I do now?” I said, not really expecting an answer.

“Now, my dear, you get up, and we go on a little jaunt across the city to steal weapons from the armory before continuing on our quest to slay a dragon, reclaim lost gold, and all that.”

I shook my head and slipped out of bed. I adjusted my cloak and followed after Bilbo once he opened the door and started downstairs.

The company was gathered and Thorin glanced up at me. He lifted a single brow.

“I do not see a sock,” Muttered Kili. Fili punched him and I swore Thorin was trying not to smirk.

I frowned and crossed my arms.

“We must tread carefully,” Dwalin started. “If there are truly guards posted everywhere, as the… Bard said.” Dwalin glanced at me as he said that.

“Nori, you take point.” Thorin said. Nori nodded once and made his way to the front.

“I won’t let you go.” Bain said softly, stepping up in front of Thorin, his hands across his chest, trying to look so grown up.

“You can not stop us from leaving, boy.” Thorin growled, turning to face him. Bain flinched, but stood his ground.

“My father told me not to let you leave.” Bain’s voice was a little shakey, but I was proud of him for standing up to Thorin.

“Move. Now, before I knock you to the floor.” I frowned at Thorin’s threat.

“Stop being a bully.” I snapped as I pushed my way to the front. I glared at Dwalin as I passed. “He’s still a kid.”

“I am not!” Bain growled. I sighed and looked up at him.

“Bain, please. Move before you get hurt.”

“I will not. My father may have feelings for you, and my sisters may adore you, but that does not make you a member of this family. You have no right to tell me what to do!”

“Don’t be foolish, Bain.” I snapped, my patience growing thin. His words had stung a little and he was acting like a child. I stepped closer to him. “Move. Now.”

He bit his lip and I suddenly felt just as bad as Thorin, bullying a 16 year old kid. When Bain stepped aside, he would not meet my eyes, and it made me feel worse. I shoved the emotions aside, and turned to follow Nori as he quickly made his way out the back door.

It was well into the night when we finally reached the armory, despite the fact that it really wasn’t all that far away. We often had to dodge guards, and a few times we had to wait, hidden in a corridor, for an hour or more. Thorin ushered Bombur, Gloin, Oin, and Dori ahead. They dropped to their hands and knees and formed a platform for us to step up on. Nori made a running leap up to the window and, upon grabbing a hand-hold, hauled himself up into the opening.

“Talya, go,” Thorin said softly. I followed after Nori, who had turned and was holding his arms down for me to grab. I leapt and took hold, and he quickly pulled me into the window. I took no time in sorting through the swords, axes, and other weapons there.

One by one, the others followed until nearly everyone was in. I tried to convince Kili to hold back, but he stubbornly ignored me and pushed forward. I frowned and watched as he was loaded with weapon after weapon. I knew it was only a matter of time before he fell.

I was in the middle of lifting a bow from its place on the wall when it happened. Kili’s leg gave out and suddenly he was tumbling down the stairs. The resulting din of the metal crashing down caused us all to freeze and cringe. Moments later, an alarm call was raised.

Guards rushed in before we could flee and surrounded us in seconds. Despite the fact that we were now armed, there was no way we could fight against fully armored guards who outnumbered us, just in the building, two to one.

“What do we have here?” One of them growled out. He flicked his sword point to me and another guard stepped forward.

“Ah. Lady Conner, isn’t it?” The guard looked me over. “Master will be right pleased to get his hands on you, after all the times you’ve turned him down.”

He leaned forward, roughly grabbed my upper arm and shoved me forward. Thorin and the others bristled at my treatment.

“Its fine,” I hissed as I passed. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

We were marched, with me in the lead, towards the Master’s house. As we went, a crowd started to follow behind us, the townsfolk whispering and murmuring in hushed tones.

“What is the meaning of this?” The Master demanded as he walked out of the front doors, tugging on his cloak as he came forward.

“We caught ‘em stealing weapons, sire. And look who was in on it.” The guard who had been leading me snagged my arm again and dragged me forward. The Master was nearly shooting daggers at me before he looked over the rest of the company.

“A bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, sire. No doubt she’s their spy.” The Master’s councilor said, leering over me. I sneered at him, but he just smiled menacingly at me.

“Bring her to my chambers. I shall question her myself…” The master began. He was cut short by a loud and angry voice,

“You will release her to me.” Thorin snarled.

“And who are you, thief, to make demands on me?”

“Hold your tongue!” Dwalin finally snapped. “You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal. This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!”

Thorin stepped a few paces forward, ignoring the sudden whispers from the crowd.

“Let her go.” His voice was pitched very low. The Master, stunned, nodded slowly and my guard stepped out of the way. I resisted the urge to kick him I passed. Thorin gently touched my shoulder as he passed, pushing me towards the safety of the company.

“We are the dwarves of Erebor.” He strode towards the Master and turned to look at the crowd. “We have come to reclaim our homeland. I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the North!”

There were cries of agreement from the crowd. They were all shuffling to get a better look at the Dwarf-King.

“I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!”

The response from the crowd was astounding. They were cheering and clapping.

“Death!”

The word was loud and angry. The crowd looked around, falling silent as they looked for the man behind the voice. Bard pushed forward and he looked at me angrily, then turned to face Thorin and the Master.

“That is what you will bring upon us. Dragon-fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all!”

“You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this. If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountains. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!”

“All of you! Listen to me! You MUST listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?! Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm!?”

The crowd was back to murmuring now, a few of the older generation answering his question with a resounding ‘No!’.

“And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain-king so driven by greed he could not see beyond his own desire!”

Man and dwarf sneered at each other.

“Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame.” The Master called out, stepping forward. “Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!”

The Master pointed accusingly at Bard and he looked away as the crowd became frenzied. Thorin was staring at Bard, a mixture of shock and anger written there.

“Its’ true, sire. We all know the story; arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark.” The councilor added, stepping forward accusingly. Bard ignored him and turned to Thorin.

“You have no right, no right, to enter that mountain!”

“I have the only right.” Thorin answered, his voice dangerous. “I speak to the Master of the men of the lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?”

The crowd fell silent and I watched on, all too aware of Bard’s accusing glare.

“What say you?”

The Master peered at Thorin, contemplative for a moment, before he smiled widely and pointed at Thorin.

“I say unto you, welcome! Welcome, and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!”

The Master opened his arms in a grand gesture of welcome, and the crowd cheered.

“Come! Let us find you accommodations fitting of your station, my liege.” The Master called out, waving his hands at his councilor. “Tomorrow, a feast in welcome!”

I watched as Thorin turned to us. Though his face was its usual stoic mask, I could see the relief in his eyes.

“You must know this quest is folly.” Bard came to my side and looked at me pleadingly.

“Bard… Thorin is the heir to the throne. He is destined, whether you will it or no, to reclaim Erebor.”

“He is a greedy king, desiring nothing more than the riches within!” Bard snapped.

“You don’t know him!” I retorted “He is a good man!”

Something shifted in his eyes and he suddenly took a step back.

“Dwarf. Hes a dwarf." He corrected quietly. He looked at me accusingly. " And it’s him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He is the one who has your heart. How could you choose him over one of your own?!”

“Bard…”

“Don’t.” Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the crowd. I felt tears gather in my eyes and I wiped them away angrily.

A timid hand touched my shoulder, and I turned to find Bilbo standing there.

“Are you coming, Talya?” He asked, glancing to where Bard disappeared to, then back to me. I sighed.

“Yeah…”

The Master, his councilor, and several others lead us to a large house, almost as large as the Masters’ own home. Once inside, there was much rushing about as maids and all manner of people began to clean out the place, setting out beds and food. Tailors came and went, showing us all clothes and measuring us for sizes. When finally people began to clear out, it was near midnight.

“Come, Lady Conner. I will show you your rooms.” The councilor smiled at me, though it wasn’t pleasant. He offered to take my hand when Thorin came up behind him. The councilor wilted, as though he could feel the dwarf’s presence behind him.

“She stays with us.” His voice was still the low pitched dangerous tone it had been.

“Oh… of course. As you wish, your highness.” The councilor bowed and, sending a withering glare my way, backed away and left.

Thorin glanced away from me and sighed.

“I hope I did not speak too rashly, Talya. If you would prefer to sleep in your own rooms…”

“No, its fine. You should know by now I sleep better when I’m with you guys. Once you are serenaded to sleep by a king’s snores, and those of his princes’, well… Nothing else could compare.” I said teasingly. I smiled despite the heavy feeling I had in my heart from Bard’s words.

“I do not snore,” Thorin argued grumpily, though I could see a small smile play at his lips. It faded all too quickly, though, and he raised his head up suddenly, our eyes meeting. He looked as though he wanted to speak, but he faltered, and the moment passed.

“We should go to our rest. It has been a long day and I am weary.”

Chapter Text

The next morning we slept rather late. It wasn’t until mid-morning that a steward of some sort arrived, a gaggle of twelve maids in tow. As the company and myself woke and stretched, our bed things were moved to the side and the place tided rather quickly.

“Baths are being prepared for you all as I speak, and our tailors shall have clothes fitting each of you here any moment. Please, make yourselves at home, and if you have need of anything, you shall only have to ask.” The steward said, bowing towards Thorin in an exaggerated fashion. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the obvious display of ass kissing and I managed, though just barely. The maids, giggling like school girls, began to gang up on the dwarves and drag them off to side rooms where said baths apparently were. Fili and Kili were snagged quickly, then Nori, Bofur, Dwalin, and Ori, who was blushing so bad I almost felt bad for him. Thorin would have been snagged, too, had he not been speaking with the steward, about what I had no idea.

I was talking quietly with Oin about Kili’s leg when the first set of dwarves finally emerged from the baths. They all seemed quite flustered, but otherwise cleaner than I had ever seen them. Nori and Bofur emerged last and Nori looked particularly pleased.

“So, of course, who was I to deny the lass when she had said she had never seen a dwarf before?” He let out a very masculine chuckle and Bofur grinned.

“No doubt you were very accommodating in that manner.”

“I was so accommodating, I may just have to accommodate her again later.” Nori said with a huge grin. I rolled my eyes and Oin huffed, having heard the conversation.

“Just wait until they get their hands on Thorin. I saw about six of them sneak off into one of the baths to ‘prepare it’ for the king.” Bofur added as they passed. I stilled and felt a wave of jealous come over me. I did my best to ignore it, but couldn’t help but wonder if Thorin would be as ‘accommodating’ as Nori had been in their interests.

I found, much to my growing annoyance, that I was being ignored completely in favor the rest. Even Bombur had been corralled and tugged into the baths, complaining loudly that he knew perfectly well how to tend himself. Bilbo had disappeared, and I was pretty sure he had used his nifty little disappearing trick that Hobbits were so fond of to sneak into a bath unmolested.

I sat back and waited for a room to be free and watched with gritted teeth as Thorin was led away, his face blank, to one of the rooms. The door closed on him and the very blonde and curvy woman that had managed to snag him. I bit the inside of my lip and fought the urge to go in there and drag her out by her hair.

Thorin had not even been in the room for a full five minutes when suddenly, the door was thrown open and Thorin stood there with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair free of its braids, my dog tags bare on his chest and water dripping off of him. He held the towel tightly in front of him and with his other hand, he pointed out of the door.

“OUT!” He growled loudly. I watched as seven girls came flying out of the room. I was so shocked by the sudden sight of Thorin nearly naked that I couldn’t even enjoy the looks of near terror on the faces of most of the girls. Thorin noticed that me, and most everyone else, was staring at him. He huffed and slammed the door solidly.

I snorted then, not being able to help myself, and tried to ignore the palpable relief I felt that he had not only kicked the girls out, but that he was still wearing my tags. Several of the girls gave me dirty looks when they heard me laugh. Not a single one offered to take me to the baths, and I was very grateful for that fact. If I had to listen to another school girl-ish giggle from any of them, I might have to stab out my own eardrums.

Lunch came then, and we all took a break to eat a light meal before that, too, was cleaned up, and everyone resumed bathing and cleaning up.

I stood then and walked off into one of the free rooms, glad to find that there was fresh heated water, soap, shampoo, and a straight razor. I nearly prayed in relief at the razor, because the hair under my arms was beginning to curl, and I didn’t even want to think about the veritable forest that had grown on my legs.

I took my time washing and shaving. While I had been able to bath at Bard’s, the water had seldom been heated and I did not usually spend a lot of time washing with the frigid water that was available. The water I was in had long since cooled when I finally stepped out, smooth and damn near squeaky clean. I tugged on the dress I had been wearing as well as my cloak and boots and walked out, towel around my hair an my small pouch of beads in hand. The dwarves, who had gathered in front of the large fire place, were sitting around, drying off, many of them re-braiding their own hair.

I made my way over to Kili, who was currently braiding his brother’s hair. They both glanced up at me and chortled at the towel on my head. I rolled my eyes and opened the little pouch and showed the beads there.

“Would you mind?” I asked, shifting a little nervously because everyone was watching me, including the maids, who had started to clean out the baths now that everyone had been through, and the tailors, who must have arrived while I was still in the baths.

“’Course not,” Kili said. “Just let me finish with Fili here.”

I nodded, tugged the towel from my hair, and almost plopped myself next to them when Thorin spoke up.

“Come, sit, Talya.” I tuned and watched as Thorin set down the comb he had been using, his own various beads and clasps on a small table next to him. I felt a small thrill run through me as he gestured to the floor in front of him.

I made my way over to him and he motioned for me to sit facing away from him. With a practiced ease, he began to comb through my hair. He worked quickly and flawlessly, gently tugging my hair this way and that as he freed it from any snarls. He had me turn to face him and I found I could not meet his eyes as he began to softly part my hair and set plaits in it. He would motion to my hand for a bead when he came close to finishing each braid and, as I handed them to him, he would roll it around between his fingers, studying it, then fix it in place.

The intimacy of the moment pulled at me, and I tried not to dwell on the way his fingers would run slowly through my hair, or the soft intensity of his eyes as he worked. When he finally asked me to turn around, I was torn between being relieved and disappointed.

Thorin gently pushed my head forward and began to work on the final braid. He took Kili’s clasp in hand and deftly fixed it into place before he began to twist and turn my hair. I glanced up from my lap to find that most of the company was very pointedly not looking in our direction. When my eyes met Bilbo’s, who had finally reappeared, he was smiling warmly at me. Fili, whos hair was now finished, was sitting next to Kili and they both watched their Uncle out of the corner of their eyes.

I heard shuffling behind me and watched as slow smiles broke out on the brothers’ faces. I frowned and wondered why when I felt Thorin sit back. I ran my hands over each braid and smiled, though it faltered when my hand reached to the bottom of the braid in the back of my head. Where before, it had been tied off with a bit of leather, now another large bead sat in its place. I felt my throat close up and my heart race as I turned to glance at Thorin. He was not looking at me, though. He was looking at each dwarf in the company. When his eyes finally rested on Dwalin, there was a grim set to his lips and I glanced at Dwalin to find that he was glaring angrily between Thorin and myself. The gruff dwarf stood up and stalked off.

“Thank you, Thorin.” I said softly, finally words coming back to me. He flicked his eyes briefly to mine and then away, as though he was uncertain of what he should say. I didn’t push him, though. I merely offered a tentative smile and stood. I tried not to blush when I realized that, once again, everyone was starring. Balin was nodding softly to himself, the brothers practically beaming. The maids were shooting me straight up death-glares.

I did my best to ignore it all and instead, made my way over to one of the tailors who had a dress in hand. I figured it was a safe bet that the dress was meant for me, and then immediately was assaulted with the thought of any of the dwarves wearing a dress. I mentally slapped myself for the sudden onslaught of images, trying not to grin stupidly. I hated my brain just then, for jumping into such a ridiculous train of thought after such an encounter with Thorin.

The tailor all but tripped over himself as I neared.

“Ah, uh. Yes. Lady… Conner, correct? If you would follow me… We can begin to fit you for this evenings celebrations…”

He trailed off and motioned for myself and a nearby maid to follow. She scowled, but followed after him. Taking one last glance at my friends, I quickly caught up to the two ahead of me.

The next few hours of my life dragged. I was made to try on a seemingly endless plethora of shirts, pants, skirts, and dresses. The tailor would click his tongue as he looked me over and would have the maid help me undress behind a panel before throwing the outfit in either a ‘keep’ pile or a ‘discard’ pile. When he finally decided on a wardrobe, he had me retry each one on and he painstakingly pinned and adjusted each outfit then and there. Despite my irritation, I found that I was impressed at the speed and surety of his fingers as he let out or brought in seams as needed. When finally everything was settled, he set about selecting an outfit for me for that night. When he began to pull out this ungodly lacy-looking thing, I shook my head.

“No offense, sir, but I’d rather not wear a dress.” He looked up at me, dumbfounded.

“Why, don’t you want to look pretty for your dwarf-king?” The maid asked, bitchy. I glared at her.

“Oh why don’t you shut your damn mouth? I’m tired of having this conversation with people. I’m not here to look pretty, dammit. I am a warrior, despite what everyone seems to think. I have faced down orcs and goblins and spiders, and elves with major superiority complexes, so if you think for one second your snotty little attitude is going to hurt my feelings even a little bit, you have another thing coming.” I snapped. Both the tailor and she looked shocked and for a second I thought she might cry.

“Look, I just want pants and a nice looking tunic. That’s all.” I finished mutedly. The tailor nodded and began to hunt around for leggings. The maid just stared and I felt guilty for snapping at her, but I refused to apologize.

When she began to help me take off the current outfit I was wearing, a simple set of dark brown leggings and a charcoal shirt, she seemed to take a closer look at me. She eyed the scars I had accumulated, from the slightly jagged white line on the back of my arm to the still very red and raised welts on the back of my thighs.

“I apologize,” She said softly after a moment. She was looking at me fully now, from the large curve of my biceps, to the swell of my forearms down to the hard lines of my stomach, and finally the stockiness of my legs. From months of hard work, travel, and fighting, I no longer had a single pinch of fat on me and my muscles were all very well-toned from use. I almost regretted the fact that I no longer had my old feminine curves, but my place amongst the company had been too hard won for the feeling to last.

“Usually when you find a woman amongst such fellows… Well. Obviously you know what the assumptions are.” She dropped her eyes and I sighed.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I do know what the assumptions are, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise.”

There was a rap on the panel and suddenly clothes were thrust in. The maid bent down to pick up the undergarments, leggings, tunic, and cloak there. She gingerly helped me step into the under clothes, then helped me tug on the nearly black leggings. They were comfortable and easy to move in, but clung close to my skin. Next came a rust brown-colored long sleeved tunic. I tugged it over my head and, after slipping my arms through my sleeves, was helped to pull it down over my breasts. The tunic flared down a little past my hips, and the maid wasted no time in pulling a belt up around it, fitting it so it slung low on my frame. The tunic was cut only a little low at the chest, with only a small amount of cleavage showing there. The material was very much like suede and, while simple, had smalls stitched embellishments here and there. There were ties at my elbows and the maid swiftly knotted them off so that the sleeves were tucked snugly, but not uncomfortably, there. The fabric hung only a little loose at my wrists, thankfully, and for a moment I was reminded that Thranduil had taken the bracers that the dwarves had crafted for me and I felt a wave of anger.

I shoved it aside, however, as I was fitted with a darker brown cloak that had mottled fur at the shoulders. I clasped it closed with a small pin and adjusted it so that it lay comfortably down my back.

Lastly, a pair of form fitting calf-high boots the same color of my leggings were presented to me. I tugged them on and was pleased to find that they were, like everything else, very comfortable. I laced them up quickly and stepped out from behind the panels.

The tailor looked me over and nodded slowly.

“Ingrid, if you would escort Lady Conner to the town hall, I believe the welcoming feast will have begun.” I smiled at him.

“Thank you, sir. You have done a fantastic job.” He sniffed at the compliment, but a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. He bowed his head and walked away, leaving me and Ingrid alone.

“If you will, my lady?” She asked, gesturing towards the door.

“It’s Talya, and yeah. Might as well get this over with.” She smiled tentatively at me, and we left the small room that had been my prison for the past several hours.

The common rooms were empty, and I had no doubt that everyone else had been able to leave quite a bit earlier than me. Oh well. Fashionably late was thing here, right?

Ingrid led me outside and shortly down the street until we reached a large old building that had obviously not been used much. There was much commotion, inside and out and as we drew near, the crowd in the streets began to part and make way. I was given a lot of stares from those gathered but I held my head high and made my way up the steps. The doors were opened by a pair of guards and I was ushered in by Ingrid. A tall, handsome looking youth stood there and, upon glancing at me, looked out over the hall.

“Talya Conner.” He called out loudly, announcing my presence. I wanted to throttle him just then as everyone assembled turned to look at me. I prayed like hell I wouldn’t trip as I made my way towards the long tables that had been set. Thorin was sitting at the head table, his face masked in its usual stoic visage, next to the Master, his councilor, and the head of guards and what appeared to be his wife. Thorin’s only saving grace was Balin, who apparently had the place of honor next to the dwarf King.

I noticed a free space next to Nori and Bofur and immediately made my way to it. I plopped myself down and hid my head as the whole of the crowd watched me take my seat. After a moments’ pause, the prior din resumed and drinks were beginning to be set.

“I was sure they would have put you in a dress.” Bofur commented, poking at a bit of salted fish with a fork. He was dressed, as was the rest, in well-fitting trousers, boots, and finely made tunics and vests. It was odd to see them dressed in something other than their usual stained leathers. It reminded me of Rivendell and I smiled a little.

“Nope,” I said. “I refused. I’m tired of everyone thinking I’m just here to fuck you all.”

Gloin, who was sitting across from me, snorted into his goblet and I gave him a sidelong glance. Bofur laughed out right, and, after a moment of complete shock from the rest of the company, they joined in, too.

“You mean you’re not?” Nori asked teasingly, smirking. I shook my head.

“That would be a resounding no, Nori. Besides, didn’t you get enough of those maids earlier?”

I swore I saw his ears turn red.

“You heard about that, huh?”

“How could I not? You were so pleased with yourself.” I leaned back and waved my hand. “I can see it now. A few months from now, the men of Lake Town will be sporting all sorts of strange hair-dos, and the barbers will all be completely baffled when they are asked to groom their customer’s short and curlies into the shape of god knows what.”

“Hey now. I keep that shorn short. I like to show the lady-folk what I have to offer.”

“More like so they could find it,” Bofur added in to the left of me. Nori made a rude gesture.

“We thought you had been taken prisoner,” Bilbo said conversationally, ignoring the comments of Bofur and Nori. “They had you in that room for so long.”

“I felt like I was. If I didn’t know better, I would think that tailor was enjoying seeing me parade around in an endless array of clothing.”

“He probably did,” Fili called out, a bit of fish in his mouth. “Have you seen some of the women around here? I don’t know about Men, but us dwarves usually,” He paused and glanced at Kili, who glared at him “Prefer our woman to be well toned and muscled. Strong. Not all willowy looking and soft.”

Bifur growled out something from his place next to Bilbo and made a gesture across his chest. The dwarves laughed and, as usual, Bilbo and I exchanged looks.

“He said…” Bofur started.

“Something about bit tits. I caught that.” I finished, dryly. Bifur grinned and eyed a serving ‘wench’, who had very ample breasts, lustily. She blushed upon catching his eyes and rushed away. I rolled my eyes. I glanced at Gloin, who was currently guzzling down some sort of amber liquid.

“Can I get whatever he’s having?” I asked, nodding my head to Gloin. Bilbo waved down a server and asked for a tall goblet of mead. She rushed away and immediately returned, handing it off to me with a bow of her head.

I took it gratefully and sipped at it. Well. It definitely wasn’t elvish wine, that was for damn sure. It was bitter and heady, though not completely intolerable. Deciding that it had been far too long since I had really drank, and knowing far too well what was to come, I downed it in one go.

“Is that the sort of night it’s going to be, then?” Kili asked, grinning. He had been nibbling at the food in front of him, and I tried not to frown when I noticed how much paler he looked. I made the decision there to say to hell with Tauriel and look over his leg in the morning.

While the supply of food was rather limited and meager, they certainly had a metric shit-ton of fermented beverages. I was on my third goblet when the tables were cleared away and we were ushered to stand. Everything was moved to the side and while most of us reclaimed our seats, there was a hustle as the men and woman gathered began to take to the dance floor. Up-beat music began to play and before long, people were dancing, smiling, and laughing. Bilbo was the first to be ambushed, surprisingly. A young lady with curly dark hair snagged him from his seat before he had a chance to argue and began to swing him around. He must have decided hell with it, because he took her by her hands and, laughing, broke out into some sort of hobbit dance.

One by one, the dwarves stepped up to dance with the ladies that approached them. Fili was caught between two girls who looked very much like siblings, a huge grin on his face. I shook my head and knocked back the rest of my third glass.

I yelped when, suddenly, Gloin tugged me to my feet.

“Oh, no no no. I don’t dance.” I protested.

“Everybody dances, lass.” He argued. He pulled me to the dance floor and before long, with the help of the alcohol, I was swinging along and dancing with the rest. Bilbo snatched me up once for the next dance, and I tried hopelessly to keep up with the nimble hobbit’s feet as he led me in a very quick –paced two step. Oin grabbed me next to show me a dance that involved a lot of rhythmic stomping, hand clapping, and well-timed grunts. Ori even danced with me, smiling warmly as he swung me around gracefully. Fili grabbed me next and tried to show me another more complicated version of what Oin had danced through with me earlier, but I failed miserably, and the two of us headed back to the table, laughing. We poured ourselves another set of drinks.

“Bet you I can finish mine before you finish yours!” Fili challenged with a grin.

“Nuh-uh. I’ve seen the way you dwarves drink. Half of it ends up in your beards.” I retorted. He put a hand up.

“No spills. I swear it.”

“…Fine.”

“On three then!” I jumped as Bilbo came up behind me, winking at me as he did. He had definitely been drinking. Fili and I glanced at each other and nodded.

“One… Two… and Three!” Bilbo called out.

We both up ended our drinks. While I may not have been able to hold my liquor well, I had long ago learned how to chug a beer properly. I downed mine and slammed it down just seconds before Fili finished his. I let out a loud belch and Fili grinned.

“Dwalins’ beard, Talya,” He bowed his head to me. “I underestimated you.”

I laughed, feeling delightfully warm and buzzed. I hugged him affectingly from the side.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that you lost to a girl.” I bumped my head against his shoulder and he shook his head.

“I do believe you are well on your way to being drunk,” Fili accused, returning the hug gently.

“So? S’ a celebration right?”

He nodded, obviously amused.

“Apparently Uncle shares your sentiment.” He said, nodding up towards the table where Thorin was sitting, taking a long draw from the goblet in his hand. He finished it and grumpily made a motion for more. I watched a few women approach him for a dance and, before he could argue, the Master said something and urged him to go. With a pained look, Thorin stood and allowed himself to be led to the dance floor. He was attractively dressed in a deep grey tunic with a red cloak wrapped around his shoulders and, judging by the way the girl leading him kept glancing back, she found him to be very handsome indeed. I frowned.

Fili cleared his throat, then hauled me back out to dance.

I spent the next few hours being passed from one partner to another. I had now danced with every member of the company, except for Thorin, at least once, Bilbo having snagged me no less than four times. I had even danced with several men of Lake Town, though tried desperately to avoid any slower paced songs with them.

There was a huge commotion as a new song started, and suddenly everyone was twirling and changing partners at a dizzying pace. I tried to keep up and not trip over my feet, laughing as I went. I was swung to one last person as the song stopped, and I damn near froze in place.

It was the Master. He was eyeing me with a drunken lust and I suppressed a shudder. He tugged at me insistently, trying to draw me closer as a slow song started.

“I think I better go sit…” I started.

“Nonsense. I insist.” He pulled me to his chest and began to try to wrap his arms around me as I struggled.

“May I cut in?” Thorin’s sharp voice cut through the slow music and the Master glanced up with surprise. He frowned, then fumbled for words.

“Of course… I mean… No… Here,” He finished lamely, handing me off to Thorin’s waiting hand. I swallowed hard as Thorin’s larger hand closed over my own. He glanced, obviously irritated, at the Master who was still watching.

Thorin carefully and loosely began to draw me closer to him, offering me the opportunity to pull away if I so wished. He placed my hand on his hip and dropped his own to mine. His other arm slowly snaked around my waist and suddenly, I found myself damn near pressed against his chest as my own arm slipped around him.

He did not take his eyes off of me as he led me around the dance floor. He was graceful, not once stepping on my feet or causing me to trip. The hand that had settled on my hip was slowly brought up to my face. He brushed one of the braids back behind my shoulder and dropped his hand again, suddenly unsure. He cleared his throat.

“I thank you for the privilege of allowing me to braid your hair.” He said softly.

“I should thank you. You did a beautiful job,” I replied. He smiled then and tilted his head down, looking up at me through his lashes.

“It is an intimate gesture, among our kind. Usually such a thing is left for close family, or a loved one to do.” He explained. “Kili seems very much like a sibling to you, so that is not all that unusual.”

“So… what did it mean for you?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

“Talya…” He trailed off, and the music ended. He held me for a moment before stepping back. I could feel the disappointment grow in me. I just knew he would draw back now like usual.

“Walk with me?” He asked. Stunned, I just nodded my head. He took my hand and drew me out of the crowds to walk outside on a balcony that faced the lake and Erebor. I felt a hard set of eyes on us as we went, and noticed Dwalin scowling.

Thorin dropped my hand after squeezing it gently and moved to stand next to the edge of the balcony. Such a look of longing came over his eyes as he looked at his homeland.

“You bid Tauriel to give me your necklace in Mirkwood,” He said softly. I thought back to what Fili and Kili had said, and remembered too, what Bilbo had said about Thorin doubting the gesture.

“I did,” I admitted. “And before you ask… I remember what you said about such gestures at Beorn’s.”

He turned to gaze at me then, startled.

“And so,” I swallowed and reached back to touch my hair. “I know what it meant when you braided this into my hair.”

“Are you so sure?” He asked then, his eye brows narrowing slightly. He took a few slow steps towards me. I eyed him questioningly.

“That’s why I asked,” I said softly. I swallowed. “What did it mean for you?”

Thorin watched me searchingly for a moment, before he drew closer. He took my hand in his once more and pulled me to him. I was suddenly so very aware of his piercing blue eyes, of the warmth his body emanated, and the so very masculine scent that was all him. He leaned forward, cautiously, his eyes still watching me, searching for even the smallest bit of hesitation.

My mouth went dry as his lips brushed mine. I closed my eyes as he drew me closer still, the press of his lips becoming more insistent. He still held one hand, the other coming up to gently press on the back of my neck.

He broke the kiss and tilted his head to lean his forehead against mine. His own eyes had been closed and when he opened them, there was a rawness there that took my breath away.

“I do not know what I would have done if we had not found you,” He whispered. “It took me far too long to realize what you had come to mean to me. I could hardly find it in me to even hope that you would feel the same for me. After all that I have said and done…” He trailed off and closed his eyes again.

“We’ve both said harsh things, Thorin. That doesn’t matter. I’ve always respected you. But when I saw you with your nephews… When I watched you laugh and smile… When I watched how fiercely you fight for your people… How could I not come to love…” I stopped short and looked away suddenly, dropping my hand from his. Again, the words had left my lips without my consent.

“Finish it,” Thorin’s voice was damn near pleading. “Please.”

Shivering, I met his blue eyes with my own.

“How could I not come to love you?”

He kissed me again, much more than a mere brush of lips. I sighed against him and he brought up the hand I had dropped and smoothed it over my back. He let out a soft groan of his own that sent a shiver down my spine. He pulled away again, all too soon, and hugged me to him, bringing my head against shoulder. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath.

“I think I like it when you’ve been drinking,” I muttered softly. “You are a lot less grumpy.”

He laughed then, the same laugh I had described to Tauriel and I smiled into his shoulder.

“Balin, I think, had much to do with that. Whenever I would down one, he would have another refilled. Though I must admit, after enduring the company of that wretched Master and his simpering councilor… I was more than open to the idea.”

We stayed there for a while, embracing. When finally we separated, I glanced back at the party within.

“What now?” I asked softly. He offered a small smile.

“I would ask the same of you. Though I suppose we should make our way within before our presence is missed.”

He placed his hand on my lower back and slowly, we walked back inside. By the way Fili smirked, I had a feeling our presence had been missed.

The party wound down long after midnight. The townsfolk made their way home drunkenly, or crashed where they stood. The streets were quiet when finally the company finally gathered together and headed back to our lodgings.

Thorin and I were the last to enter. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my lips before we made our way inside. We broke apart and found our way to our separate bed rolls, his off to the side and, as usual, away from everyone else, while I curled up in my normal spot somewhere between Fili, Kili, and Bilbo. I fell asleep thinking about his lips against mine.

Chapter Text

I woke up surprisingly early the next morning, long before anyone else had begun to stir. I sat up and glanced to where Thorin lay. I smiled softly to myself as I studied his face, peaceful in slumber. He was laying on his back, one arm thrown casually across his chest, the other bent and tucked under his head. He shifted and sighed in his sleep, and I found myself wondering what it was he dreamed of. Then I blushed furiously when I thought about the dream I had had the night before.

I stood up slowly and looked around for Kili next and frowned when I realized he wasn’t there. I picked my way through the dwarves and looked all over the place for him, finally finding him stretched out against a wall in the back near the rest rooms. His face was drawn tight. He glanced up at me when he heard my foot steps and tried to act as though nothing was wrong.

“Nice try, Kili.” I said softly. I crouched next to him and glanced down at his thigh which I could tell even under his pants was swollen. I frowned.

“You wait here.” Before he could argue, I had disappeared into one of the side rooms for a pair of shears and a clean towel. Then I came back out to the sleep dwarves and glanced over the sleeping forms until I found Nori. I crept next to him and slipped my hand into his vest and searched around for a moment before I found what I had been looking for. My hand closed around the flask and I gently pulled it slowly away, sloshing it around slightly as I did so. Well. It still had some alcohol in it, anyways. I made my way back to Kili who had shifted uncomfortably in his place. I unscrewed the cap on the flask and sniffed, then nearly gagged. Yup. That would work.

I plopped gracelessly next to Kili and grabbed his pant leg.

“Talya, I’m fine… Really…” He tried to push my hand away and stand, but I easily pushed him back over.

“There would be no way in hell you would have let me push you over that easily if you were really fine. Now shut up and let me look.”

He fell silent as I grabbed his pant leg again. I set down the towel and flask, then swiftly cut into his pants with the shears and tore it back to reveal the very swollen and angry looking wound. The area where the arrow had pierced was a sickly dark green. I shook my head and swallowed thickly. The wound was sickly-sweet smelling.

“I need to get Oin.” I said.

“Talya, don’t. I don’t want them to know.” He looked at me pleading. I shook my head.

“I’m sorry Kili.”

I went back to the common room and gently shook Oin awake. He frowned and grumbled in dwarvish.

“Oin, its Kili. His leg is worse,” I said, keeping my voice low. Oin jerked up when he heard this and glanced at the others. He stood up, grabbed his small satchel of medical supplies, and I motioned for him to follow me. I was angry with myself for leaving the kingsfoil I had gathered before at Bards and was dreading having to go there to get it.

When we reached Kili’s side, Oin immediately cursed harshly upon seeing the infection.

“We’ll need to lance it, laddie.” Oin’s voice was very serious suddenly, and I hoped it wasn’t worse than I expected. Kili frowned but said nothing.

“Your belt, lass?” Oin asked, glancing up at me. I did not hesitate. I tugged off my belt and handed it to Oin, who doubled it over and offered it to Kili. I didn’t understand why until Kili snatched it from Oin’s hand and bit down on the leather. Oin reached into a side pocket and tugged out a small but wickedly sharp dagger.

“I’ll need you to hold his leg,” Oin directed. I looked at Kili apologetically, but he had his eyes closed.

I moved to stand on the other side of Kili and gently began to put weight on his upper thigh. Oin made an impatient noise.

“Harder than that. I don’t want him movin’.” I grit my teeth and leaned forward hard. A harsh hiss escaped Kili’s lips. Oin glanced down and picked up the small flask, dousing his blade with it before he leaned forward. The dagger had barely touched the wound when Kili cried out. Oin dragged the tip steadily over the blackened area and nearly immediately, thick pus began to ooze out. The smell hit my nose and I had to hold my breath before I threw up. Kili nearly screamed into the belt, his hand shooting out to grasp my arm. Despite the fact that his grip was painful to the point of being unbearable, I said nothing.

Oin set about draining the wound, pressing gently on either side. I had to turn away and take short shallow breaths as he worked, not being able to stand the sight or the smell.

“Almost done, Kili. Almost done.” I said softly. Oin picked up the flask and began to douse the wound with the contents. Kili’s hand tightened further and I bit back my own cry of pain, knowing I would without a doubt bruise. Kili’s head was thrown back, his breath coming in quick and pained gasps. His cheeks were wet with shed tears, and I hated to imagine the amount of pain he was in.

“All done, there, lad,” Oin said softly. He began to wrap his leg with a length of linen bandage that he had pulled from his first –aid satchel.

“Oin… I am going to go to Bard’s… I left something important there. I will be back as soon as possible.”

Oin hardly acknowledged my statement, and I quickly stood and made my way outside. Two guards stood there, watching me with little interest.

“Sirs, if you would… I need to go to Bard’s house. I left something of mine there. I do not know the way.” The two exchanged looks and the older of the two nodded. The younger stepped away from his post.

“I will take you to his home,” He said. I nodded my thanks and fell into step behind him as he began to lead me towards Bard’s home.

It didn’t take as long as I thought it would and soon I stood before the familiar doors, my heart tight in my chest. I really did not want to face Bard, or any of the children. Smiling tightly at the soldier with me, I knocked on the door.

It didn’t take long for Bard to open it. He looked at me coldly.

“You have much nerve, showing up here.” His voice was icy.

“I know.” I said softly. “I’m sorry. But I left something here that I need desperately.”

Bard glared and looked as though he wanted to argue.

“Please.”

He frowned further, then stepped back. Relieved, I stepped past him and went upstairs. It was still early enough that not even the kids were up yet. I was thankful for that.

I searched the room until I finally found the small bundle of now nearly dried kingsfoil. I gathered it to my chest and hurriedly made my way back downstairs.

“Would you have even told me what it was you were planning? Or were you just going to sleep out in the night, leaving me to wonder of your fate?” Bard’s voice was angry, but there was an underlying hurt there that made me frown. I turned to look at him and flinched at his accusing stare.

“I wish I could say something to make things better between us, Bard. I never wanted to hurt you. That was never my intention, I swear it. But there are things in motion that you cannot begin to understand…”

“No, Talya. It is you who don’t understand. If that dwarf succeeds in opening those doors to that mountain… We are all doomed. And for what? Gold? Glory?” He scoffed.’

“Because it is his home. It belongs to him and his people. Do you think that the dragon will slumber forever? Or that the beast is the only thing that threatens this town and its people? Orcs’ are gathering their forces, and something lurks that will destroy us all. If they do not do this… If they do not reclaim Erebor, then we will all be a lot worse off.”

“How can you know this?” He demanded.

“Because, Bard,” I ran rubbed my face tiredly. “I just do. Call me a seer, or a prophet, or just some freakin’ nutjob who just happens to be able to predict the future with a startling accuracy. In the end, it doesn’t really matter why I know what I know.”

He was staring at me now, not knowing how to respond. I turned away from him, ready to leave, when his soft sigh stopped me. I glanced back at him and watched as he looked over my braids.

“While we may have not had much dealings with dwarves of late… We still remember much of their customs. It has been said Thorin Oakenshield braided your hair, and in it, a token of his affection.”

Bard’s voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear his words. Now it was me who didn’t know how to respond.

“What do you want me to say, Bard?” I asked quietly. “Do you want me to deny it?”

“Would there ever have been a chance for me?” He asked suddenly.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because. I do.”

I closed my eyes against the tears that threatened.

“Dammit, Bard.” Apparently my words were answer enough. He reached out to take my hand.

“Then stay with me, please. Do not go to that mountain. Do not perish there with people not of your own. Let the dwarves do as they will.”

“I can’t Bard. I am sorry. I really am. But I will do everything I can to help them restore their home.”

I tugged my hand out of his and walked away, leaving him standing there in the doorway, very much alone.

I returned to the company, feeling very much drained. I pushed the door open and slipped in to find that the company was up and about. Kili had returned to the group, his face masked again. Being the typical males that they were, Kili did not tell anyone about his problem, nor did anyone make a point to ask if he was alright. I grumbled to myself about the stubbornness of males and dwarves and began to walk over to him.

Thorin came to stand in front of me, his arms crossed.

“The guards said you went to the man Bard’s.” His tone was light, but accusing. I rolled my eyes and let out a puff of air.

“Yes, I did. I forgot something there.” I said simply. I reached up to tug my cloak off my shoulders, suddenly warm now that the fire had been poked to life again. The sleeve slid down, bearing deep red marks where Kili’s fingers had dug in earlier. Thorin growled as he reached out and grabbed my sleeve. Gently, he pushed it back and turned my arm this way and that. I had to admit, it was a hell of a sight. Kili’s large hand had neatly encircled my forearm, leaving marks behind in a startling shade of red.

“I will kill him.” Thorin snarled. I realized then that he assumed Bard had grabbed me.

“It wasn’t Bard!” I snapped, suddenly very irritated. I was angry that Kili was still hiding how hurt he was. Mad at Oin for letting him. Pissed at Bard for making me feel so shitty. Pissed at myself because it was my fault.

“Why do you stick up for him?” Thorin demanded. “Do you not see the marks on your arm?!”

I tugged my arm away from him.

“God dammit,” I snapped. “If you want to know why my arm looks like that, why don’t you ask your infernal nephew!”

Kili jerked his head up and looked at me as though betrayed.

“You are all so stubborn it drives me fucking nuts.” I growled out. “You are all so busy with your pride and whatever the hell else to ask if Kili, who is so fucking pale he could blend in with fresh fallen snow, if he is okay. And he is so stubborn and worried that you might think him weak that he won’t tell anyone that his leg is swollen up the size of a melon and looks like roadkill. And Oin is so busy trying to protect Kili’s delicate masculinity that he won’t tell anyone either!”

Thorin looked at Kili, frowning, suddenly worried.

“Kili… Does Talya speak true?”

I looked at Kili pleadingly, but he refused to meet my eyes.

“Yes, Uncle.” He said softly. Thorin let out a long sigh and walked to his nephew.

“Come. Let me see.” Thorin motioned for Kili to get up and follow him to a side room. Everyone was staring at me after my outburst. I threw up my arms in frustration and followed after the two.

“Out,” Thorin growled softly when I stepped up behind him. Kili sat down gingerly on the floor, pointedly not looking at me. That pissed me off further. He was acting like a spoiled child who couldn’t get his way.

“No.” Was all I said. Thorin looked at me sharply, but I ignored him and instead looked at Kili. “Look, I am sorry if you feel like I betrayed you by blowing you in. But I refuse to stand by and let you get die because of something so stupid.”

“Oin would have fixed it just fine, Talya. It would take more than an arrow wound to kill a dwarf.”

“It would if it was a morgul shaft.” I bit out. Both of them froze and looked at me.

“How could you even know that?” Thorin asked, looking at me accusingly.

“Open your eyes and look his leg.”

Thorin turned and knelt next to his nephew. Ignoring Kili’s protests, he quickly unwrapped the bindings and hissed as he examined the wound.

“Kili.” He said softly, “Why did you not tell me?”

I swallowed and took that moment to leave. I didn’t want to intrude on their male bonding moment or whatever. I closed the door behind me and quickly found Oin. I pressed the kingsfoil into his hand.

“Make a wash out of this and use it on Kili’s wound whenever it needs tending.” Oin frowned and looked down at the plant.

“It’s a w…”

“Weed. Yeah yeah yeah. So I’ve heard. Humor me, please?” Oin frowned further, but nodded. “Thank you.”

I brushed by him and the rest of the group, going to sit next to the fire. Bilbo sat down next to me.

“I feel as though you know something you are not telling us.” He said quietly. I leveled him with a sharp look.

“Do not fix that icy glare on me, Talya. There has been things you have said, or eluded to, that have seemed out of place at the time, but later come to mean a great deal.”

“You need to stop being so damn observant,” I muttered.

“And you complain about the dwarves’ stubbornness?” He asked, his eye brows raising and knitting together.

“Bilbo… There is a lot that I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. Please know that I will explain everything someday, if I am able.” Anybody else would have argued, but Bilbo merely nodded his head and patted my arm.

“I believe you, Talya.” He glanced up and I followed his gaze to find Fili standing there awkwardly. Bilbo gave me a look that said ‘good luck’ before scurrying away.

“What, Fili?” I asked tiredly.

“Thank you for telling us about Kili,” He said softly. “You are right, we are often too stubborn and prideful to admit to injury. I should have known there was something wrong. I am his brother.”

I groaned. I was beginning to feel like a damn therapist.

“He was doing a good job of hiding it. But I am a woman. I worry. I cornered him this morning and made him let me look. When I realized how bad it was, I called Oin over.”

Fili nodded slowly.

“He’ll be fine, Fili. I promise you.”

With a sudden jolt, I realized that I couldn’t promise that. Fili, Kili, and Thorin were all supposed to die in less than three months. The pain that followed after left me breathless. It had never hit me so hard as it did then, and I stood, brushing past Fili. I rushed outside, desperate for air, and began to run. Guards and people called after me, but I ignored it all. I ran until I reached the end of a dock and there I collapsed. Erebor was looming in the distance and I felt my mind run over all that was supposed to happen from here on out. The dragon attack. The burning of Lake Town. Thorin’s steady decline into madness. Thranduil’s march on Erebor with Bard leading his own army. Bilbos’ betrayal with the Arkenstone. The Battle of the Five Armies.

I remembered with sudden clarity, sitting in the movie theaters all those months ago, watching on screen as first Fili, then Kili, and finally Thorin fell. The tears I had shed then where nothing to those that came now. The pain of watching their deaths on screen was nothing to the fine thread of agony that ripped through me.

A sob tore through my lips.

“Oh Valar,” I called out. “How am I supposed to save them?!”

I buried my face in my hands and I cried harder even then I had in Rivendell.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t until late that I made my way back. When I finally slipped back in, I was greeted by a very stern looking Thorin. His expression softened only slightly when he looked on my pale and no doubt tear-streaked face.

“We looked everywhere for you.” He said.

“I’m fine.” I answered evasively. I tried to walk passed him, but he reached out and touched my waist. I hesitated and looked back at him.

“Talya…” He looked at me searchingly, his face drawn into a look of concern. “What has you so distraught?”

He reached out to take my hand and he pulled me closer.

“Just one of those days, Thorin. So much has happened lately that I am feeling a little overwhelmed and frustrated. Just a girl thing. Don’t worry about it.”

He looked as though he wanted to argue, but he smartly stayed quiet. He nodded his head towards Kili, who was now laying down, propped up on a pillow as Oin’ washed out his wound. I sighed in relief when I caught sight of one of the kingsfoil plants next to the healer.

“He wishes to speak with you.”

I glanced at Thorin and nodded before gently tugging away from him and making my way over to Kili. He did not look at me and for a moment, we stayed silent as Oin finished his work and, after re-wrapping the wound, walked away.

“I am sorry if I caused you distress, Talya.” He said finally. “I understand that you were looking out for me and… had you not said something…”

I shook my head.

“Its fine, Kili. That’s what I’m here for. To keep any of you guys doing anything too stupid.”

He gave a dry laugh, then reached out and took my arm in his hand. I winced when he brushed across the bruises. He pushed back my sleeve and frowned at what he say.

“Durin’s beard, Talya,” He looked up at me. “Why did you not pull away?”

“I figured if you could deal with the pain of your leg, I could deal with that.” I shrugged and tried to tug my arm away.

“You shouldn’t have to have dealt with it. I should never have grabbed at you in such a way.”

“Wouldn’t you have done the same if it was your brother?” He glanced down and I knew the answer. “Exactly. Don’t get all guilty just because I am a girl.”

He let me tug my arm away that time and I shimmied the sleeve back in place.

“You should know by now I would do anything for you guys. Letting you break my arm was no big deal.”

Kili looked up at me sharply, then groaned when he saw the smirk on my face.

“You are not funny.” He grumbled.

My elated mood from Thorin’s kiss was long gone and I found myself watching Fili, Kili, and Thorin often. I physically ached at the thought of any of them dying. Bilbo frowned at me several times and I realized that I would have to suck it up and soldier on as I had always done. Continuing to think this way and to let my emotions get the best of me would not help the situation and, if anything, was likely to get me killed.

The next week passed surprisingly slowly, and I was grateful for it, despite the fact that the dwarves had begun to grow grumpy. They were eager to be on their way.

We spent the time packing and repacking our things. We were outfitted with travelling clothes and packs. Weapons were offered to us, as well as the use of the black smith’s tools and forge. The dwarves spent most of each day shaping and adjusting the weapons to their tastes. The forge was so small that only two of them could work on it a day, and the slow pace was obviously grating on them. When finally they began to snap at each other, Thorin suggested they go outside and began to test out their weapons, finished or not. So, while two by two they worked at the forge, the rest of us began to spare, stretching out our muscles and getting used to the feel of our new blades and, in the case of Kili and I, new bows.

Thorin and Balin had worked together to shape a blade for me since I couldn’t even begin to work at a forge. I was impressed with how quickly they had shaped the blade I had been given into something wickedly deadly and perfect for my size. In the armory, I had found a long-bow that I could comfortable draw back and while, it was not my bow, it would do.

When night fell, we would retire to our lodgings, eat dinner, and map out our plan from there. Each night, as everyone began to turn in, Thorin and I would seek one another out, and we would often sit quietly with one another, just appreciating each other’s company. Sometimes we would talk quietly, talking of the past, or, in the case of Thorin, what he hoped to come. Once the moon rose in the sky, we would part and Thorin would kiss me sweetly good night before we would go to our rest.

The day before we were set to leave, the Master announced that another dinner would be held. We all looked forward to it just for something to pass the time and break the stale monotony that had become our daily routine.

We all set about washing and dressing again, the dwarves and Bilbo choosing their most splendid outfits to wear. Apparently, Thorin had wanted to leave an impression on Lake Town.

I had spent much of that day thinking over our departure tomorrow and I felt a hard knot in my chest as I came to a decision. When Thorin walked passed looking devastatingly handsome in finely cut trousers and a long-sleeve deeply blue tunic, a belt cinched at his waist and his sword at his side, I couldn’t help but stare. He noticed and, instead of looking at me sheepishly as he had in the past, there was a knowing smile there. I glared teasingly at him, embarrassed that he had caught me checking him out, and he gave a masculine laugh that warmed me. I stood up then and decided to find my tailor.

The same guard who had brought me to Bard’s led me to a building where the tailor’s all had gathered to practice their craft. When I finally found the familiar face of my tailor, I smiled sheepishly at him.

“So… I need a dress…”

Hours later, I stepped out into the main portion of the building and looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a bronze colored dress that had richly embroidered seams, the neckline tapering down between my breasts, but was tied off before anything was revealed. It showed off my cleavage beautifully, and I was thankful for the bra that one of the seamstresses had made for me. The top portion of the dress clung to me flatteringly and flared out at the waist. It was long enough to just barely brush the ground as I walked. The sleeves, while long and wide at the mouths as was the style, they did not quite reach my wrists, instead purposefully cut short, apparently to show off my delicate and ‘attractive’ wrists, according to the tailor. I had to admit it was beautiful, and looked amazing on me. I swore to repay the tailor tenfold as soon as I was able.

I made my way towards the same town hall that we had dined in the first time and, as I made my way up the steps, I felt eyes on me once more. Unlike before, however, the glances of the men were appreciative while most of the women, though obviously jealous of the attention I was getting, smiled warmly at me as I passed.

The ever present guards posted at the doors opened them before me, and I stepped through them. Like before, my presence was announced.

The setting arrangements were different than before with Thorin now sitting at the head of a table with the rest of the company. Dwalin was to his left, Balin to his right. As I made my way towards the table to a seat opened next to Bilbo and Fili, I noticed that Thorin did not take his eyes off of me. I could have cared less about anyone else starring, but knowing that his eyes were on me in such a way made me blush. I stepped into my seat and pointedly did not look anywhere but the table in front of me. Fili elbowed me gently and I grumbled.

Dinner was served then, a similar fare as usual, comprised mostly of fish and dried foods and, like last time, alcohol was plentiful.

I drank much more slowly this time around, not wanting to make an ass out of myself in a dress. My companions did not have any such reservations and, as usual, began to drink heartily. Jokes and stories were told with gusto and I listened, knowing that there would be little reason for such things in the coming days.

Once dinner was cleared, the tables were once more pushed to the side so that people could dance. Much like last time, the dwarves headed off to dance with the ladies that approached them, with Bilbo finding himself caught between two young women. I laughed at his bewilderment. Nori snuck away with a young woman, winking at me as he passed, and I rolled my eyes. Bofur followed shortly after, an older but very attractive woman in hand.

I found myself approached by several young men that night, each asking very sheepishly if I would dance with them. I declined politely, finding that I was not much in the mood to dance. Thorin seemed to feel the same way because he was sitting back, puffing on a pipe, watching the dancing folks distantly. I watched, jealously, as women approached him, practically throwing themselves at the dwarf king. He declined them all.

A rather drunk and very curvy woman approached him and practically fell in his lap. I watched as his eyebrows shot up as she pushed at him, her hands coming perilously close to his crotch, trying to stand. He finally stood up and steadied her. She kissed him soundly on the lips then smacked him, hard, across the face. She stomped off and he stood there, looking so utterly confused. I laughed out loud, a sudden bark of a noise that seemed to shake him from his thoughts. He turned to look at me and walked over. He sat down next to me, opened his mouth to speak, stopped, than started again.

“I do not… quite understand what just happened.” He admitted finally. He rubbed his cheek grumpily and I chuckled. He looked at me questioningly and I held up my hands defensively.

“Don’t ask me to explain. I have no idea.”

We sat in silence for a while and, hesitantly, I shifted closer to lean my shoulder against his. A very small smile played across his lips. He stood up abruptly and I frowned, but he offered me his hand.

“Dance with me?” I took it with a smile and he pulled me gently me to my feet.

The song that was playing was rather fast paced and Thorin wasted no time in going through the steps to the same dance Oin and Fili had showed me last time. We smiled and laughed with one another as it became quite obvious that I was a lost cause when it came to dwarven rhythms.

The song changed to a much slower one, and like last time, Thorin drew me close. I rested my head on his shoulder and he brought a hand up to play with the braid down my back.

“You are beautiful,” He said softly and my breath caught in my throat.

“You are just saying that because I’m finally wearing a dress.” I replied weakly.

“I am saying it because it is true,” He said softly. “True, you are a vision in this dress, but even if you were spattered with mud and wore torn and dirty clothes… I would still find you beautiful.”

I did not know what to say so, instead, I nuzzled closer to his neck, finding comfort in his scent. He inhaled sharply and I felt a fine tremor ease through him. For a second, he clutched me tighter, but it eased and he said nothing.

We danced a few more times after that, then made our way back to our table for a drink. The dance floor was much less crowded than before, with many couples having snuck off. Fili was helping Kili sit down, the latter of the two obviously having had entirely too much to drink.

“The party seems to be dying down.” I said softly as I downed my drink. Thorin nodded and followed suit.

“Shall we head back?” I asked softly, glancing up at the suddenly serious dwarf. He nodded and offered me his arm. I slipped mine through his and we slowly made our way out the doors and through the streets. When we finally reached our lodgings, he slowly dropped his hand, and opened the doors for me. He gave a little flourish of his arm, a small smirk that did not reach his eyes on his lips.

I stepped through and began to head off to a side room where I had left my clothes when I realized that Thorin was following.

“I was just going to change… whats up?” I asked, tilting my head slightly. I did not like how serious he suddenly was.

“I would speak to you alone, if I may.” I nodded slowly, and continued on to the room. I turned around as he passed through the doors and closed them behind him. He let out a long breath.

“I do not want you to come tomorrow.” He finally said, not looking at me.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I admitted softly. He jerked his head up in surprise. “I don’t think I can face Smaug. I didn’t want to admit it, but I am terrified of him. I don’t want to fuck up and get any of you killed.”

He frowned, his brows furrowed.

“I was expecting you to argue.” He confessed. I smiled slightly.

“I know. It’s kind of fun surprising you.” I said with a laugh. He smiled wryly then, and this time it did reach his eyes.

“Despite everything I have seen… You always manage to amaze me.” He stepped close to me and took my hands in his.

“Promise me that you will follow after us once the beast lay dead.” His voice was earnest. “I want to show you the halls of Erebor. I want to walk with you and tell you stories of my home. A home that I would hope you will one day share.”

This was the closest thing he had come to speaking of a long-term relationship.

“What are you saying?” I asked softly.

“That I wish for you to be by my side.” He answered, with no hesitation. My heart pounded in my chest. Thorin leaned forward, so very slowly, and captured my lips with his. When his tongue darted out and licked along my lower lip, I shuddered against him. In response, I nipped at his lip and a low growl came from his throat.

“Talya…” His voice was warning, but I ignored it. I kissed him soundly in the lips and suddenly he pulled me to his chest, his tongue darting out once more to part my lips. I could feel his hardness pressed against me and I felt a warmth pool between my legs. As soon as he felt me brush against him, he pulled away abruptly and dropped his arms.

“Forgive me. It has been a long while since…” He trailed off and looked at me, lust in his eyes. “My control is not what it should be.”

He turned to leave, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm. I stepped close to him and kissed his lips gently, then along his jaw line. I nuzzled against his neck and, just as he had when we danced, he inhaled sharply.

“Talya… You do not understand…” His voice was breathy.

“What don’t I understand?” I asked, pulling back. His eyes searched my own.

“I desire you, Talya. I can not begin to tell you how much. If I stay here with you…” He trailed off, swallowed thickly, and dropped his gaze. “I will not want to stop at tender kisses and soft touches.”

“Then don’t.” I said simply. He raised his head slowly and our eyes met again. He seemed to gauge my seriousness. Without warning, he closed the distance between us and kissed my soundly. There was none of the previous hesitation, and I melted against him. His hands ran down my back, one coming to rest on my hip while the other trailed back up and fisted into my hair.

Between passionate kisses and caresses, Thorin led me to a short table in the back corner. As soon as my back touched it, he wasted no time in hoisting me up to sit on it.

Chapter Text

I woke to the sound of voices just outside the room. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the brightness coming from the window. I was laying on my side, my head cradled in the crook of Thorin’s elbow. He spooned around me, his face buried in my hair, his other arm curled tightly around my stomach.

“…Did anyone see them last night?” I frowned and lifted my head to glance at the door.

“I do not care where Talya is. Thorin is the one I am concerned for. These Men are untrustworthy. How can we be sure that we have not been betrayed?!” Dwalin’s voice was loud. Thorin let out a long breath and stirred in his slumber. I watched as he slowly opened his eyes, his mouth now, too, pulled into a frown. His eyes softened momentarily when he gazed at me and he leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on my lips. I returned the gesture, closing my eyes and sighing.

“We should get up before they send out a search party,” I said softly. I could feel dread settle into me as I realized there was no way to exit the room and leave any doubt in anyone’s mind about what had happened the night before between Thorin and I.

He exhaled slowly and we both sat up, taking the time to tuck ourselves back into our clothes. I winced as I shifted, definitely sore between my legs. Thorin noticed the gesture and frowned. I smiled slightly back at him and shrugged a little.

“It’s been awhile,” I said softly. “And you are…” I flushed, suddenly and irritatingly flustered. Thorin laughed deeply and stood up first, then leaned down to take my hands in his. He helped me to my feet and lay another kiss on my lips. We separated and began to adjust ourselves. I watched Thorin as he stretched and begin to tug his shirt over his head.

The sound of our movements must have travelled because, very abruptly, the door was thrown open, Dwalin, Balin, Fili and Kili standing there. I blushed scarlet and turned away, despite the fact that I was fully clothed. Thorin hardly reacted, unhurriedly pulling his shirt back into place.

“You lay with her?!” Dwalin demanded, his tone accusing. He stepped into the room, his face contorting in anger. “I warned you away from her. From the beginning, I told you something about her was not as it seemed!”

“Dwalin,” Thorin warned. “Enough.”

“No. It is not enough. You allow this… woman to jeopardize our quest? Did it not ever occur to you that the only reason she is here to seduce a king?!” At that, I whirled around to face Dwalin.

“How dare you?!” I snapped, so unbelievably angry.

“Do not raise your voice to me, harlot.” He sneered at me and closed the distance between the two of us. “Tell me, did you seduce that man, Bard as well? Is that why he so willingly allowed you in his home? And what then, when Thorin returned, did you decide that your own kind was not good enough?!”

Thorin had had enough. He stepped between the two of us, shoving Dwalin roughly away.

“I said enough.” His eyes were blazing with anger. “Gloin, Dori, take him outside and let him clear his head. Balin, I suggest you talk sense into your brothers’ thick skull.”

Gloin and Dori stepped into the room and I realized then that our raised voices had gathered the rest of the company to us. They went to grab Dwalin, but he jerked his arm away. He shot one last look at me.

“And so you see, she already comes between you and your kin.” Was his parting shot.

I was shaking, my face red from sheer anger and embarrassment.

“Go. Gather your things; plans have not changed. We leave by mid-morning.” Thorin called out, still shielding me behind him. Once everyone had cleared out, he turned to face me.

“He should not have said such things to you,” He said after a minute.

“Is that what everyone thinks? That I seduced you?” I asked so very quietly. Thorin embraced me tightly to his chest.

“You know it is not. Dwalin… He has only ever looked out for the welfare of his king. He thinks that you will lead me to my death, whether intentional or no.”

I felt the same pang in my chest as I had when I had tried to promise Fili that his brother would be fine. In my mind’s eye, I saw the great sword of Azog pierce Thorins chest. Tears threatened and spilled over before I could stop them.

“You should go,” I said softly, pulling away. “The others will be waiting, and Durins day approaches.”

“Talya…”

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

I turned away from him then, and it hurt so much to do so. I heard him exhale slowly.

“And Thorin…” I said softly. “Make Kili stay.”

“Why in Mahal’s name should I do that?” His voice was sharp, abrupt, and I glanced at him.

“Because, his leg is not healed and he will slow you down. If he doesn’t stay here and his leg worsens, you will not be able to help him on the road.”

“I can not ask him to stay behind when he has travelled so far…”

“I am begging you, Thorin. Make him stay.” I pleaded. His face became stony, and he nodded once. I let out a breath in relief.

“Thank…”

“Don’t. Do not thank me. Kili will never forgive me for forcing him to stay behind while the rest of us journey on to Erebor.”

The bitterness in his voice was hard to take. I watched him turn and go, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the room.

It didn’t take long for the final preparations to be made. The entire town, it seemed, gathered at the docks to see off the dwarves of Erebor. I stayed a fair distance, my heart aching, as the dwarves, all decked out in new travelling clothes, weapons at their sides and packs on their back, passed by to climb into the waiting boat. Though I would not be leaving, I, too, had my travelling clothes on, no longer able to bear wearing the dress I gave myself to Thorin in. My sword was at my side, my bow and quiver slung over my shoulders.

As they passed, most of them smiled sadly at me, and I wondered what Thorin had told them. Bilbo hesitated, then broke out of the line.

“Chin up, Talya. We will see you again, soon.” He said, his usual warm smile on his lips. I chewed my lip a moment and, remembering everything to come, I let out a long breathe. I reached forward and hugged Bilbo tightly to me. He seemed surprised, but returned the hug, patting my back gently.

“Don’t not let Thorin get his hands on the Arkenstone. Whatever you do. Please.”

I pulled away and Bilbo looked at me sharply. I wondered if he was going to argue, or if he would remember our conversation about my uncanny knowledge. I looked at him pleadingly and after a moment, he nodded once. He squeezed my shoulder and continued on.

Thorin was one of the last to pass by, and his eyes sought out mine. He made his way towards me, ignoring the touches and calls of those around him.

“Promise me you will follow when Smaug lay dead.” He pressed. “Promise me you will come to Erebor, that you will be at my side.”

I couldn’t speak, not after I had just encouraged Bilbo to betray him, so I merely nodded my head rapidly. He sighed and brushed his hand against my face fleetingly, his eyes softening for the briefest of moments before he turned away and headed back to the boat. I watched Thorin and Bilbo exchange words and I remembered that Bofur was missing. I wondered if he was still with the woman from the night before, and my heart lightened, if only for a second.

Kili stepped up to the boat and went to swing his leg in, still stepping very much tenderly, his face very pale. Thorin touched his chest and spoke to him. I watched as Kili jerked back as though he had been hit, shock and betrayal written on his face. Thorin’s eyes flicked up to where I stood and looked away.

Oin disembarked, then, too, and stepped next to Kili. Fili grabbed Thorin’s upper arm and spoke furiously with him. They exchanged angry words before Fili, too, stepped off the boat, refusing to look at his uncle. I could see the anger in Thorin’s face and I ached to know that I was the cause of it.

“Talya!” Fili called. “Talk to him. Tell him that he cannot leave Kili behind!”

Wanting so desperately to walk away, I instead faced the hurt and angry brothers. I walked slowly to them, not meeting their eyes.

“Please, Talya. Tell him I am fine.” Kili was pleading and it damn near broke my heart.

“I am the one who told him to leave you behind.” I admitted.

“What did you say, lass?” Oin, who had been busy looking over Kili’s leg, shot his head up to look at me.

“Why?” Fili demanded at the same time that Kili cried out, “How could you?”

“Because you are not yet healed, Kili. Please, I am doing this for you…” Kili didn’t want to hear it.

“And so you see,” Fili spat, parroting the words Dwalin had spoken earlier. “She comes between you and your kin.”

The venom there and from Fili of all people, left me breathless.

Cheers called out around us as the boat pushed off from the dock. Though surrounded by people, I felt so terribly alone and for the first time in months, I wished I was home.

“Ah! So you missed the boat as well?” Came Bofur’s breathless voice as he came to a halt next to us. He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Kili glanced at Bofur darkly, then, pointedly not looking at me, glanced between Fili and Oin.

“Let’s go.” He snapped. He looked so miserable and exhausted. I knit my brows together, wondering if the excitement and rush of emotions was wearing on him. He went to stand up, but his leg buckled under him and he fell hard to the dock. I rushed forward to grab him, but I was shoved out of the way by Fili. Bofur looked on in surprise.

“Kili. Kili?” FIli called. Kili didn’t answer. His face was drawn together in agony and I cursed. Why the fuck hadn’t the kingsfoil helped?

“We have to get him inside.” I said. Fili ignored me. “Did you hear me? We need to get him help, now!”

In a move that was very much reminiscent of Thorin, I watched as his jaw worked under his golden beard.

“Back to our lodgings,” Fili slipped an arm under his brother’s shoulder, Oin supporting the other side. They hefted him up and began to walk towards the lodge.

“They won’t let you back in.” I called after them. “Not now that Thorin’s gone.”

Still, they ignored me.

“Fucking dwarves!” I cursed loudly, then fell into step behind them. They made their way through the crowds, the pace agonizingly slow. As we neared the lodge, Bofur shot forward to speak with the guards. There was much arguing between Bofur and the two guards there before suddenly one of them brandished his pole axe. Bofur jerked back and, yelling something rudely in dwarvish, turned back to us.

“They will not allow us to enter.” Bofur said, once he reached us.

Fili cursed and Oin shook his head.

“Be pissed at me if you want, but don’t put that ahead of your brother’s health.” Fili growled in frustration.

“What would you have us do, Talya?” He asked finally.

“Follow me.”

We made our way towards Bards’ house and Fili must have realized where we were headed because he glared at me. I wondered if Dwalin’s words were still playing in his head, the accusations of my supposed dalliances with Bard echoing there.

I did my best to ignore the looks as we stepped up to Bard’s house. I knocked hard on the door and waited.

The door swung open and Bard stood there. He looked at me coldly, then over at the dwarves behind me.

“No. I am done with you and your dwarves. Leave.” He started to close the door, but Bofur shot his foot out before the door could shut.

“No, no, no! No one will help us. Kili’s sick. He’s very sick!”

“Please, Bard. Don’t turn us away.” I pleaded. He let out a long frustrated breath and pushed the door open. He walked away without a word.

“Take him upstairs.” I said, ushering them inside. I looked around outside before I closed the door solidly behind us.

“Talya! You are back!” Tilda’s voice made me look up and I watched her and Sigrid follow after us. Sigrid looked angry at me, but she frowned when her eyes fell on Kili.

“Girls, I need your help. My friend is very sick. I need blankets and hot water. Quickly.”

Sigrid hesitated, but nodded and pulled Tilda along with her. I reached the spare room upstairs and watched Bard thumb threw a bag of medicine.

“I have nightshade, feverfew…”

“They’re no use to me.” Oin paused and glanced at me. “Do you have any Kingsfoil?

“No. It’s a weed. We feed it to the pigs.” Bard replied, frowning.

“Pigs… Weed? Right.” Bofur glanced back at Kili, his face pinched in pain, a sheen of sweat glistening on his face and neck.

“Don’t move.” Bofur said, lightly. His face was drawn with worry. Kili offered a very weak smile.

The girls returned, Tilda carrying blankets, Sigrid a pot of hot water. Fili grabbed one of the blankets and quickly wrapped it around his brother’s shaking body. Oin cut back Kili’s pant leg and cursed at the sight of Kili’s swollen leg. I wet a cloth and began to dab at his forehead. He was burning up.

Feeling useless and frustrated, I glanced outside. It was still light out, and I knew that, if Tauriel was really going to show up, it probably wouldn’t be until later.

I pushed away from the table and sought our Bard. He was standing near an open window with his arms crossed.

“We need to try and evacuate the city.” I said bluntly.

“And go where? There is nowhere to go.” He turned and leveled an angry look at me.

“It doesn’t matter. Go towards the mountain. Go towards the hills. We just need to get everyone out of here.”

“Leave Lake Town and be run down by orcs?” He barked.

“No. The elves of Mirkwood will take care of them.” I answered, tired of dancing around, giving cryptic messages and hints. I decided to take the same course of action as I had with Tauriel and maybe shock him with the truth.

“Smaug is going to come here and set fire to the town. Many people will die if we do not get them to leave.” I said bluntly. “Get your kids out while you can, Bard. Send them away.”

“Send them away, not take them away.” Bard narrowed his eyes at me, right away catching the specifics of my words.

“You have to stay.”

“The hell I do!” He growled out. He pointed in my face. “Do not think you can come in here after everything you have put me through, put us through, and dare to tell me what to do. I will go where my children do.”

“You can’t Bard. You have to use the Black Arrow. You have to finish where Girion left off. You have to be the one to kill Smaug.”

Bard stopped, frozen in place.

“How did you know about the arrow? I have never spoken of that to anyone.”

I groaned and resisted the urge to smack my forehead. I was beginning to get very tired of that question.

“Bard, you know I am different. I am not like normal women.” He shot me a glare.

“I am well aware.” His words were clipped, and I realized he thought I was making at a dig at his feelings for me.

“I was sent to Middle-Earth by the Valar. I told you before that I was bound to see this quest to completion. That wasn’t just some bull shit oath. I know of things, past, present, and future. I know that you are destined to kill Smaug using the Black Arrow passed on to you from your forbearers.”

For the first time ever, Bard’s usual snapping wit failed him. He stared at me, mouth open in pure shock.

“Please, Bard. Do whatever you can. The people here adore you and they will listen to you if you stand up against the Master. Get them out.”

I glanced out the window that Bard had been looking out and watched as the sun set.

“I have to go.” I said softly. “Please think about I said and…. Look after Kili, please.”

I snuck quickly down the stairs, trying not to alert the dwarves to my departure. I slipped out the door and began to make my way out of town, towards Mirkwood.

“Ah, Lady Conner. What are you doing out without your companions?” A guard, who I recognized as the one who had taken me captive at the armory, stepped out of the shadows drunkenly, a younger man following closely behind. I let out a breath, irritated.

“Look, I don’t have time for this. Leave me alone.” I growled, irritable.

“Your own kind not good enough?” He barked out, laughing crudely. “Notice that your dwarf king left you behind.”

I grit my teeth and continued to walk.

“Get back here,” He snapped. “I can show you what it’s like to be with a real Man.” His hand shot out and grabbed my right shoulder with his left hand.

I had SO had it.

I shot my hand out, grabbed his wrist with my left hand and yanked him forward, hard. As he stumbled towards me, I twisted my body and slammed my elbow into his gut. He let out a harsh grunt and fell forward. Still pulling his arm, his own momentum doing much to carry him forward, I grabbed the back of his head and slammed it forward, bringing my knee up at the same time. My knee smashed solidly into his face and he dropped like a rock, groaning in pain. Blood gushed out of his nose and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. It was over in a matter of seconds.

I snapped my eyes up to look at his partner, whose eyes were wide, startled. He raised his hands in peace and stepped backwards quickly.

I whirled away, and headed back towards the exit.

I picked up a slow jog as night began to fall faster. It didn’t take long for me to hear the shuffling of orcs as they began to try and sneak into town. I knelt down and waited for the telltale signs of either Legolas or Tauriel. A caught sight of golden hair and my eyes followed as Legolas began to slip across roof tops towards an orc standing watch. I tugged an arrow from my quiver, knocked it, and let it fly towards the orc Legolas had been heading towards. As my arrow pierced the creatures’ neck, the blow effectively silencing him, Legolas’s head jerked up, his eyes searching in the dark. With eyes that pierced the darkness much better than my own, he quickly spotted me crouched down. He hesitantly nodded his head towards me before bounding off towards his next target.

I began to search through the town, picking off orcs as I saw them.

There was a solid thud behind me, followed by a snarl. I whipped around and quickly dropped my bow. I withdrew my sword and jerked backwards as an orc swung his blade at me. While they were strong, they lacked speed and graze, and I easily dodged a second clumsy swing. As he swung a third time, I dodged forward and thrust the tip of my blade between his ribs. He faltered and I shoved harder, my own blade sinking solidly into his chest. I jerked my blade free and was sprayed with thick, black blood.

A flash of red hair from overhead and I found Tauriel shooting down an orc in the distance. As soon as her arrow flew, I called out.

“Tauriel!” She glanced down in my direction, surveyed her surroundings, than dropped nimbly in front of me. I snatched my bow up from the ground.

“Kili. He’s been shot with a morgul shaft. He needs help, now.”

“I know… That is why I am here. How did you know…?” I raised an eye brow and thought suddenly of Gandalf and our long ago conversation about him being a wizard. I felt a pang and I realized how much I missed the old man.

“Come on, follow me.” I took off without bothering to see if she was following. We paused once or twice to engage in battle with the orcs we found on our way, but quickly pressed on.

We came to Bard’s house before long and, as I stormed through the front door, I watched her nimbly leap to the roof.

“Talya! What happened?!” Bard demanded as he caught sight of my blood splattered clothes.

“Orcs,” I replied simply. I took the stairs two at a time and reached the spare room just as Tauriel swung in.

Suddenly, Sigrid screamed behind us and we whirled to find an orc standing there.

“Are you fucking serious right now?!” I rushed in, barely managing to cross blades with the beast before I tugged an arrow out of my quiver and stabbed it into his gut. He jerked back in pain and I took the moment of surprise to slash his throat. A second followed shortly after and when he swung his sword, I scarcely managed to jerk back, but not before the blade bit into my ribs. I cried out in pain and slashed in retaliation, my sword managing to rip into his belly, blood and thicker things pouring out of the great gaping wound.

More orcs began to pour in through the balcony, the windows, and one through the roof. I hastily shoved my blade into its sheath and tugged my bow back in hand. I knocked my bow and let it loose, the arrow lodging through the side of an orcs head just as it loomed over Bain. It fell over before it knew what hit it and I had to dodge quickly as another lumbered after me, swinging wildly over my head.

Legolas jumped through the window then and I rolled my eyes.

“Nice of you to finally join in,” I snapped sarcastically as I shot at an orc who had attempted to follow him in.

A scream of pain caused me to jerk and look behind me and I watched as an orc snagged Kili by his wounded leg. Tauriel whipped around and threw a knife, the blade lodging firmly in its throat.

The barrage of orcs began to slow until finally, Legolas and I dispatched the last two nearly simultaneously.

“You killed them all,” Bain said, looking between Legolas, Tauriel and myself in wonder. Legolas frowned at the boy and looked to Tauriel.

“There are others. Tauriel, come.”

I watched him turn to leave, and shook my head at Tauriel, looking over to Kili who was now curled on the ground, his breaths shallow and his eyes closed.

“We’re losing him!” Oin called out. Tauriel glanced at Kili, then at Legolas, and shakes her head. He frowns, then turned and left, just as silently as he had come.

Finally, Bofur burst through the door, his hand clutching the kingsfoil. Tauriel rushed to take the plant from Bofur’s hand and touched the leaves humbly. She whispered to them reverently before she went to Kili’s side.

“Talya had me wash the wound with the plant before. What can you do now that will help?” Oin asked and Tauriel glanced at me.

“Athelas. Who knew, right?” I muttered, shrugging.

“The action may very well have been what has sustained him thus far. But now, I will apply it to him with the grace of my kind, with the healing touch of the Eldar.”

“Come on,” I said breathlessly, the adrenaline from the fight wearing off. The dull ache in my ribs was quickly becoming an insistent stabbing pain. “Let Tauriel do her thing.”

Bard ushered the kids out first, telling them to go down into the kitchen. Oin and Bofur followed after. Fili watched his brother hesitantly, his brows knitted together in worry.

“There isn’t anything you can do for him right now, Fili. Come on.” Fili glanced back at me, then nodded and followed after Oin and Bofur. I went next and noticed Bard looking me over, frowning. He brought up the rear and we all made our way down into the kitchen.

I rolled my bow over onto my back and tugged my cloak so that it covered my blood coated right side, figuring I would wait until things settled down to worry about myself. I sat down and winced slightly. While Bard checked over his kids and the dwarves glanced upwards as though they could see their fallen comrade, I slowly reached in and pressed my left hand against my ribs. My tunic there was soaked through with blood and I hissed slowly. When I pulled my hand out, it was coated with blood.

Bard began to turn to look at me and I hastily dropped my hand. He frowned and looked over my form.

“You are injured.” It wasn’t a question. I shifted in my seat as I noticed everyone turn to look at me. Did I ever mention how much I hated when people did that?

“Yeah,” I muttered. Oin glared at me and shook his head, muttering something about me being hypocritical. I caught the word ‘stubborn’ several times.

“Well now, lass. Let’s see it.” He made a beckoning motion at me.

“Can I not have an audience for this?” I grumbled. Bard spoke to the children and ushered them into the common room. Bofur followed after, promising to watch them. Bard and Fili remained. Fili was watching me, his face carefully blank, while Bard watched with concern.

I frowned and let out an irritated puff of breath. I stood up, dropped my cloak, and began to tug my tunic over my head. A blush crept up Bard’s face and he almost turned away until he caught sight of the blood coating my right side.

The tunic pulled at the wound and I hissed. I dropped the tunic to the floor once it was over my head and stood wearing only a simple bra on my upper half. Fili and Oin did not bat an eye, but Bard was torn between being embarrassed and concerned.

Oin shook his head at me and grabbed a cloth. Bard hastily picked up a flask of what I knew to be some sort of alcoholic beverage and I fought the urge to cuss him out. Oin up ended the flask on to the cloth and began to clean away the blood.

“God dam fucking fucker!” I barely managed to growl out. “That burns like hell.”

Oin ignored my outburst, but Fili rolled his eyes. He came to stand at my side and offered me his hand. I realized it was a gesture of peace and while I was still very angry at him for the words he spoke, I took it, using my right hand.

“You’re going to need stitches.” Oin said after a moment. “The skin’s split fairly evenly, but it’s very deep.”

Bard peered closer and paled.

“Is that… Bone?” He asked. My eyes widened as I glanced at Oin. He frowned at Bard as though he had something he shouldn’t have.

“Yes, laddie. That is bone. Truthfully, lass, you should count yourself lucky that no other damage was done. A blow like that could have easily broken something.”

“Oh yeah. Tons of luck over here.” I muttered. Oin shook his head again and reached into his satchel for a length of thread and a needle. I let out a long breath and Fili pulled my arm taught so that it was out of the way.

“How many stitches do you think this time, Talya?” He asked conversationally.

“I don’t know. Over, under?” I asked.

“What to bet?”

“The loser has to clean and sharpen the losers’ sword.”

He shook his head and I noticed Bard was watching the exchange with some interest.

“I could make an awful joke about polishing swords, but I feel as though it might be wildly inappropriate and, Mahal forbid if my words ever reached my Uncle’s ears.”

My mouth dropped open. I could not believe he just said that!

I jumped as the first stitch stabbed through my skin.

“You ass! I can not believe you just said that to me!” He shrugged and grinned, but it faltered a moment.

“And I can not believe I spoke to you earlier so harshly.” He glanced down for a moment, and I realized that it was a habit of most of the dwarves when they were speaking from the heart. “You have only ever looked after us, particularly Kili, and I had no right to say such harmful things.”

“I can understand why you guys were angry at me. But I would not have changed a thing. If Tauriel could not find Kili…” I started. Fili frowned.

“Wait. How did you know Tauriel would come?” I realized what I had let slip.

“Because I did?” I sighed and jerked again as yet another stitch pierced through my skin. “I swear that the whole story will come out some day, Fili, but for now, just realize that sometimes I have a very good idea of what there is to come.”

He fell silent and I cursed again as Oin tugged particularly hard.

“So… What’s your guess?” I said through clenched teeth. Fili looked down thoughtfully.

“Seventeen.”

“Oh come on. It’s not that bad. I say only ten.”

“Fourteen,” Came Bards voice. He walked over with his arms crossed. “I must admit, Talya. I am impressed.”

“With what?”

“Well, part with how well you are taking those stitches, and part with your imaginative use of curse words.”

I laughed dryly.

“I find that I must thank you, too.” He said after a moment. “You saved my sons life.”

“She has a habit of doing that.” Fili said, nodding to the man. “Shes saved my brother twice now.”

“Done.” Oin said. He cleaned up the blood that was left from the stitches and began to wrap my ribs.

“Whats the verdict?” I asked, glancing down.

“Thirteen.” He answered.

Fili and I glanced at each other, then at Bard.

“So. If you ‘polish’ his sword… can I watch?” I asked brightly.

Chapter Text

We did not sleep that night, too full of concern for Kili’s welfare to be able to rest. When finally Tauriel came downstairs before dawn, we all picked our heads up tiredly to look at her.

“He will live.” She said simply. I felt a tired smile grace my lips, Fili, Oin, and Bofur each with their own looks of relief.

“Thank you,” Fili was the first to speak. “For my brother’s life.”

Tauriel bowed her head slightly.

“He wishes to see you all.”

“Go ahead, lad. We can see him once you are done.” Oin said, urging Fili on. Bofur nodded, agreeing with the old healer.

Fili nodded once and stood immediately but hesitated, and glanced back at me.

“Come, Talya.” I was going to argue, but decided then I was just too damn tired to bother.

I stood up wearily and, wincing as the stitches pulled in my side, followed after Fili as he slowly began to climb the stairs.

When finally we reached the room Kili was in, I slowed until I came to lean against the door way. I watched as Fili rushed to his side, grabbing hold of his Kili’s hand and touching it to his own forehead. Kili smiled weakly up at his older brother.

Fili spoke softly in words I could not understand. I felt like an intruder in that moment, as though I did not belong there in a room with the two dwarven warriors, let alone witnessing them at their weakest. I very much wanted to turn and leave, but Fili turned towards me then and beckoned me forward.

I let out a breath that I had not realized I had been holding and slowly walked to Kili’s side. Though his face was still pale and drawn, it was easy to see that he was already feeling so much better than before. I stood there awkwardly a moment, not knowing what to say.

“You saved my ass again,” Kili said bluntly, with a feeble smile.

“Told you I guys I had to stick around to keep you out of trouble.” I replied quietly.

“You knew this would happen.” Kili stated, bluntly. I nodded.

“Like I told your brother and Bilbo… One day I will tell you guys everything. But for now… I would just ask that you trust me.”

“Do you know, then, whether Smaug is killed? Whether Erebor is truly reclaimed by our people?” Fili asked. By the tone in his voice, I could tell that those questions weighed heavily on his mind.

“I can’t answer that, Fili. One wrong word, and I could screw everything up.” He nodded and looked back to Kili.

“We all doubted you,” Kili said softly, and I frowned down at him. “Every last one of us was sure that you would crumble ‘ere we reached out half way mark. But you were as stubborn as any dwarf. You took everything we had to throw at you, and threw it back at us. You brought Gandalf to us when we needed him most. You saved me outside of Rivendell. You faced the goblin horde, stood bravely at our sides when we faced Azog…” Kili trailed off and looked me in the eye.

“I was angry with you for making Uncle leave me behind, but I should have realized that you have only ever done what you thought best to keep us safe. We should never have doubted you. More than once, now, have you saved my life. More than once you have risked your own safety for that of our own.

“You ask us to trust you. And I say to you, how could we not?”

Kili’s speech left me dumbstruck. Fili only nodded his affirmation.

“So, Talya Conner, what would you have us do?”

The day was spent carefully planning on how to begin to evacuate the townsfolk, and to where. I knew Bard had to be the one to do it because he already had the trust of so many.

When we decided on Dale, and he had finally figured out on how he was going to approach the situation, he caught my arm gently before he left, tugging me into the common room. He reached up into the rafters and pulled down a great long black arrow.

“Keep it for me.” He said, holding it out to me. I cautiously gripped the heavy item in hand, surprised at the weight of it.

“Be careful, Talya. If the dragon comes, take the children and flee. Do not tarry.” His tone was flat, but I could feel the underlying emotion behind it. The concern for the children, and for me, was palpable and I swallowed. I only nodded, refusing to make a promise I knew I would not keep.

He disappeared then, and I studied the black arrow for a moment, frowning. Smaug would have already attacked had this been the movie, and I remembered vaguely that Smaug did not decimate Lake Town until nearly the end of October in the books. Hopefully that would be enough time to evacuate everyone and make a plan on how to take down the dragon. I carefully tucked the arrow behind the kitchen hutch and rejoined the rest of the group.

In the meantime, I bade Bain and the girls to begin packing essentials, namely non-perishable food items and warm clothing, as well as having Bain strap on one of his fathers’ swords, and each of the girls small daggers of their own.

Night had fallen once more and I found myself worried that Bard had not yet returned. Oin was re-wrapping my ribs after checking on my stiches when suddenly, the ground shook. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing, each of us straining for any noise. When the ground shook a second time, Tilda let out a cry of fear.

“Shit. No. This isn’t supposed to happen yet… No one will have even left yet!” I growled out. Tauriel glanced at me from where she was standing, having been re-wrapping Kili’s leg. I tugged myself out of Oin’s grasp and tucked the remaining wrap into my waist band.

“Tauriel… You must take the children out of here as quickly as you are able. Take one of the boats outside; it will be faster than trying to pick through the crowds. Kili, Fili, Oin, Bofur… Go with her and protect those children.”

“Why do you speak as though you are not coming?” Bofur asked. The others watched me sharply.

“Because I can’t. I have to find Bard. I have to take the black arrow to him.” I answered.

“A black arrow?” Bain asked, incredulous. “But Father never told me…”

“I know, Bain. It was not something he ever would have thought he would need, in his lifetime or yours.” I looked at them. “Please go. I don’t know how much time there is until Smaug reaches us.”

“Talya, Thorin will never forgive us if something were to happen to you.” Fili was deadly quiet.

“And do you think he could forgive me if something where to happen to either of you? Do you think I could forgive myself if any of you,” I motioned around to Tauriel, the children, the dwarves. “Were hurt because I screwed up?”

I shook my head.

“You said you trusted me. Please do as I ask.” I finished, looking hard at them. Fili nodded.

“Come. We must make haste.”

“But… Talya…” Bain stepped forward. “You can’t stay here. The dragon…”

“Bain, I have to find your father. I have to bring the arrow to him. I need for you to be the man of the house right now, and to watch after your sisters. Can you do that for me?” Bain let out a soft breath and my heart tightened when I remembered just how young he was. His eyes flashed to me for an instant before he hugged me once, tightly, and stepped back.

“Be careful.”

“I will.”

I followed them out to a boat outside, helping load their packs and scant belongings. One by one, they stepped into the boat, both Sigrid and Tilda pausing to hug me tightly. Bofur, Oin, Kili, and Fili each grasped my arm in theirs as they passed by, their faces solemn. Bofur and Fili took up the oars as I pushed them off from the path.

“No matter what happens… keep rowing!” I called out.

I watched for only a moment more before I rushed inside, grabbing my bow and sword, as well as the Galadrhim bow I had given to Bard and two quivers. Both bows and quivers I swung over my shoulder, my sword already tucked deftly into its sheath. I grabbed the long arrow from behind the hutch and raced outside just in time for a huge shadow to block the moon.

My heart ceased to beat in my chest as I looked up at the enormity of the dragon above. Its wings blanketed the sky, its great snake like tail whipping behind it so hard it cracked like thunder. A deep reverberating roar tore from the beast’s throat and I could feel the wood beneath my feet shake.

I took off then, wracking my brain to think of where Bard would be. When finally I decided to check the prisons, a great burst of fire came raining down from the sky and the first screams pierced the night.

A dull thud, followed by the sound of ringing metal reached my ears through the din and I strained to listen for it again. I jerked to my left and began to run full out now. Ahead of me, I could see light shining through bars, a figure crossing in front, heaving something in its hands. I took off quickly towards it, pushing through frantic people as I went. I took steps two and three at a time, dodging and weaving through the crowds. I hopped up onto a railing and hauled myself to the roof, using a window and its shutters as hand and foot holds. I reached the area above the prison cell just as a rope dropped from the bars onto the barge below.

It wrapped itself snuggly around the prow of the boat as well as the neck of the Master’ below. As the oar men rowed faster, the rope snapped taut and the sudden weight and jerk from below caused the weak and rotted wood from around the bars to snap and break free. It crashed to the water below with a splash, and I knelt down to offer my hand to a very startled Bard.

He grasped my offered hand and I helped pull him up from the gaping hole.

“Where are the children?”

“Safe. I sent them off with Tauriel and the rest.” I answered.

“Why did you not go with them?” He demanded, eye brows narrowed.

“I had to find you and bring you this.” I hefted the arrow up and showed it to him. He took it quickly and I handed off to him, too, the golden bow and one of the two quivers slung over my shoulder.

“I have it, now go!” I shook my head.

“No, Bard. I have to see this done.”

He was about to argue when there was another burst of dragon fire above us, the vast form of the dragon following after. We both watched the dragon fly past and Bard glanced at me one last time before nodding grimly.

“We must get to that tower!” He called over the screams, pointing into the distance. I glanced to where he was looking and without hesitation, we took off along the roof tops. Around us, the fire raged, quickly consuming the dry and old buildings around us. I jerked Bard back as his foot cracked through a rotten tile and in turn, he snagged my arm and kept me from falling through a collapsing portion of roof.

Smoke was quickly overwhelming us, the air thick with it. My throat and lungs burned with it, my eyes squinting and watering against the stinging pain of it. The heat, too, was becoming unbearable as the town went up in flames around us. I tore off my cloak as we ran, the edges having long since singed and burned away.

Finally, the tower loomed ahead of us. Bard handed the black arrow off to me and climbed quickly, reaching down to take the arrow back once he was up. I quickly followed after him until we both stood at the highest peak in the town, looking down at the destruction wrought by the dragon’s fiery wrath. Gold and red flames ate away at buildings until nothing remained but charred embers. Everywhere, people burned and screamed and died. And still, the dragon flew.

“We have to distract him!” I called out, my voice hoarse from the smoke. Bard tugged the elven bow from his back and together, we began to shoot arrow after arrow at the colossal monster. The arrows clicked off Smaug’s thick scales and he paid no more mind to them then I would have a gnat. When finally Smaug took notice of us, he swooped down from above, his huge tail crashing into the tower above us. Bard and I slammed to the ground and watched the dragon as he landed precariously on the crumbling buildings. The wood creaked and groaned under his weight, huge chunks of debris cracking under him and falling into the waiting lake below.

“Who are you that would stand against me?!” The great dragon’s voice called out loudly. The words were spoken with a low and nearly endless growl, rage filled and hateful. Bard stood first and quickly looked at the wind lance that had, moments before, stood whole. The dragon had, purposefully or not, destroyed it easily upon passing us. Bard grit his teeth.

“Now that is a pity.” Smaug growled out, low and almost purring. He took a few steps towards us, using his clawed wings to pull himself forward. “What will do now, bowman? You are forsaken. No help will come.”

I struggled to stand, wincing at the sharp pain in my ribs. No doubt that my stitches had been pulled and, had the situation not been so dire, I may have started cursing just for the mere fact that they would have to be redone… If we lived.

My movements caught Smaug’s eye and suddenly a single reptilian eye, larger than I was tall, focused on me.

“Is that your mate?” Smaug asked, taunting. “You can not save her from the fire. She will BURN!”

I finally made it to my feet, terror racing through me. Bard was trying to hurriedly piece the lance back together.

“No, Bard! The bow!” He frowned, then picked up the elven bow where he had dropped it. He looked at it in renewed wonder.

"Talya, help steady me!” He snapped as he quickly picked up the arrow and began to draw it onto the bow. The hugely long arrow looked so ridiculous on my small bow, but to the credit of elves, the string held up against the strain easily. I came up behind Bard and, tucking myself against his back, and held onto each of his arms, steading them the best I could. I could feel his muscles strain as he braced against me and tried to hold the arrow in place.

“Tell me, wretch, how now shall you challenge me?” The dragon taunted once more. I felt more than heard Bard inhale sharply. “You have nothing left… But your death!”

Smaug roared and lunged then, lifting his great head and snarling into the night. Wing over wing, he approached, a bright light beginning to emanate from his chest. Bard was shaking with the effort to aim and I tightened my grip trying to quell the fine tremble.

Smaug came faster, drawing ever closer. The light from his belly began to creep up his throat and when finally, he reared his great head back in preparation to let loose his flame, Bard released the arrow.

The arrow sprung loose and Bard and I watched on as the shaft sung through the air.

It flew straight into the waiting form of Smaug, the large iron point piercing directly where Girion had struck him a more than a century before.

Smaug’s head jerked in surprise and he stumbled. Bard reached behind to steady me as the tower we stood on rocked sharply. Smaug stumbled again and careened right into us.

The tower toppled easily under his weight and suddenly, Bard and I were flying through the night sky. We hit the water hard, the large pieces of wood crashing around us. I fought to reach the surface, the air having been knocked out of me when we hit. I struggled to dodge the sinking debris as I kicked to the surface. I felt a familiar edge of panic creep into me and I had to struggle not to choke on the water that was forcing itself up my nose.

Finally my head broke the surface, the sudden clamor of the night crashing over me.

“Bard!” I called out, sputtering. “BARD!”

“Here!” I heard his voice coming from the other side of the fallen tower and I let out a sigh of relief.

“We have to get out of here!” I caught sight of him as he swam around the tower. “The whole town is falling down around us!”

He began to kick and swim towards the edge of town and I followed, already beyond exhausted and breathless. I pushed myself to swim after him, the cold water biting at me and trying to pull me under.

It seemed like forever before we finally left the hell fire behind us. Dawn was beginning to creep into the sky as Bard led us to shore. Ahead, people were gathering, pulling each other from the water and wreckage. Children clung tightly to their parents and everywhere, people cried, pleading for help and for mercy.

I pulled myself weakly to shore and collapsed on the bank, coughing harshly and shuddering in the sudden cold. Bard followed after, collapsing at my side.

“DAAAAA!” Both of us jerked our heads up as the sound of Sigrid’s screams reached us.

“Oh thank the gods,” Bard murmured. He stumbled to his feet and I waved him on as he glanced back at me in concern. He hesitated, but ran at full tilt. Sigrid, TIlda, and Bain caught sight of him, and suddenly he was mobbed by them.

My eyes searched for the dwarves and I nearly cried in relief when I caught sight of them just past Bard and his family. I stood and faltered as I made my way to them, clutching my side painfully. Between the searing pain in my ribs, and the cramp there, I was all but hobbling.

“TALYA!” Bofur was the first to see me and he rushed forward, Oin, Kili, and Fili following behind. I smiled weakly and closed my eyes as a wave of dizziness passed over me.

“You’ve done it. The dragon is dead.” Fili said softly in awe. I shook my head.

“No… B… Bard made the sh.. shot.” I was shaking so hard that I could barely speak. The cold had sapped my strength and I was not sure how much blood I had lost from the gash on my ribs.

“You need to rest now, lass. It is done.” Oin said softly, taking my arm gently in his hands. I looked at him sadly and let out a sharp bark of a laugh that held no mirth.

“No. It’s not,” I whispered desolately. I stumbled then, over whatever debris there was on the ground, and fell forward. Oin saved me from smashing my face into the ground, just barely. Fili and Bofur took me up under my arms and supported my sudden dead weight. They began to lead me towards one of the few boats that had made it through the night undamaged, Bard, Tauriel, and the children following behind. Bofur stepped in first, then Fili helped me in next. I settled myself in and looked up at Bard.

“Lea… lead them to D…. Dale,” I coughed, hard, my throat still very much burning from breathing in the smoke throughout the night. “You are the Master now.”

Bard frowned as he looked over the group, obviously wanting to protest but, to his credit, he did not.

Oin settled in after me and began to look me over, frowning when he found scald marks or singes that only now began to hurt, a sharp and insistent burning pain.

“Come on!” Fili called out, glancing back towards his brother. “We’re leaving!”

I looked up to watch the scene between Kili and Tauriel unfold. I knew how much had transpired between them in Mirkwood and, despite the suddenness of the romance in the movies, I had watched with my own eyes the bond form between the two, from the budding interest Tauriel had showed him in the woods, to Kili’s confessed feelings for her in Lake Town. I knew how quickly love could blindside someone, from a begrudging respect, to admiration, to affection, and I ached to think of how it was supposed to end.

Chapter Text

With the dwarves all taking turns rowing, it did not take long to get across the lake. The boat hit shore shortly before dusk and the dwarves quickly hopped out of the boat. I found that I could barely move. I had been up for more than 48 hours at this point, had not eaten at all during that time, and had pushed myself way too hard. My ribs ached horribly and I was just so damn tired.

Fili and Bofur were out first, quick to help steady Kili as he stepped out of the boat, still stepping on his leg tenderly. Oin held out a hand to me and I took it. It seemed like I was always being pulled to my feet by the dwarves, in more ways than one.

I stepped gingerly out of the boat and closed my eyes as the world tilted and shifted. Oin barely had the time to ask if I was alright before I felt grey begin to creep up around my eyes. I swallowed thickly and was about to say that I needed to sit down when my legs went out under me and I passed out.

The drums began to beat and we all turned to look back at the tower. Even from this distance, we could see the shuffling of bodies begin to creep towards the decrepit balcony. Azog’s pale body came into view first, his face twisted in a satisfied smirk that chilled me to the core. Behind him, he was dragging Fili, who was kicking and struggling against the orc’s hold.

Thorin started towards Fili and I ached as I watched him realize he could do nothing. We all looked on helplessly as Azog lifted Fili up.

Azog began to speak in a harsh tongue that I could not understand, but I did not need to. I knew all too well what he was saying. Fili’s struggling was renewed as Azog hoisted him farther up.

“No!” FIli cried out. “RUN!”

With that, Azog pulled back his bladed arm and rammed it through Fili’s back. Fili’s eyes widened in shock at the suddenness of the blow and I watched, heartbroken, as Azog pulled his blade free and dropped the golden-haired dwarf prince. I felt myself start forward as he fell and I stumbled to my knees.

“FILI!”

“Talya. Talya!” I inhaled sharply, startled awake by the voice. The first thing I realized was that I was moving and second, that I was being held by someone, bridal style.

“What…?” I asked softly. My throat ached with the effort as I tried to open my tear-filled eyes. When they finally managed to open, I peered up, unfocused, at Fili. I cried out in relief at seeming him whole and quickly turned to bury my face in his chest, a quiet sob tearing through me. Fili adjusted me in his arms and coughed awkwardly.

“If I had known you could speak my name so tenderly, I might have had to pursue you myself.” He said softly, teasingly. I frowned, then realized that I must have called his name out loud during the nightmare. I choked back a laugh, not because I found him at all funny right then, but because he was alive to make such a crappy joke.

“How do you feel, lass?” Oin asked softly, having come to stand in front of Fili and I.

“Like shit,” I muttered truthfully. Oin nodded, a grim set to his face.

“Come, Fili, set the lass down and we’ll make camp here for the night. Bofur and you can set about making camp. Kili, be a good lad and set about making some tea.”

Fili gently set me down on the ground and touched my shoulder in concern. Now that the relief of seeing him alive had passed, I could not look at him without seeing his face torn into a mask of agony as he died. Bofur and he bustled about, laying bed rolls that they must have brought from the boat and building a fire while Kili sifted through the contents of a pack, pulling out various dried plants. Oin settled next to me, watching me sharply.

“I can’t believe I passed out,” I muttered after a moment, my voice hoarse.

“You lost a lot of blood and have pushed yourself hard in the past few days. You helped take out a dragon, lass. Be thankful you yet live.” Oin tugged his pack into his lap and began to sift through it for cleans linens and wraps. Upon calling for water, Kili tossed a water skin over and Oin snagged it, offering it to me first. I took it gratefully. I drank a fair amount before passing it back to Oin. He drank a few sips, then began to pour the water on the cloth.

“I did not want to try to tend you while you were unconscious. I thought it best to let you get what rest you were able.” He explained as he began to dab at the many scratches, abrasions, and burns on my person.

“I have never your voice so broken, lass.” He said quietly after a moment, glancing up at the others before looking back down at my arm. He dabbed at shallow gash there, tugging bits of wood from it as he went. “What could you possibly have dreamt of?”

I hesitated, grimacing slightly at Oin’s ministrations.

“Fili’s death.” I answered simply, tired. Oin frowned and shifted in his seat.

“But we are all alive, lass. There is no need for tears.” He pointed out. If only he knew.

He motioned for me to lift up my shirt and lay on my side as he fumbled around in his pack. Fili, Kili, and Bofur, now having finished their tasks, came to sit around Oin and I, cups of hot tea in their hands. I could have teased them then, about their little tea party, but I did not have the energy. Instead, I kicked off my boots, which had definitely seen better days, and set about tugging off my shirt. My sleeves had been mostly singed away and I was sure I had lost more fabric than what was left. I grit my teeth as the cloth brushed against burns and cuts, the blood crusted fabric tugging on wounds that had already begun to scab over.

Kili set his cup town and reached for my hand as Oin began to tug out the torn stitches. I took it gratefully and exhaled.

“So Talya,” Bofur said, conversationally. I opened one tired eye to look at him. “You know…. Erebor is grandly huge, I am told. Halls and caverns so large that trolls, standing three high and six abreast, can walk through even the more simple passageways.”

I frowned. “Okay…?”

“In such a large place, I am fair certain that sounds could carry all the way from the front step to the very forges below the earth.”

“Bofur,”I grumbled irritably. I was tired, hurt, and angry at the world at that moment. “What in Mahals’ name are you getting at?”

I frowned at the slip and Oin chuckled softly behind me.

“Only thought to warn you, lass. I don’t know about the others, but I don’t fancy hearing yours and Thorin’s reunion.”

It took me a moment to let his words sink in and when I realized what he was eluding to, I felt myself blush scarlet. I narrowed my eyes and glared daggers at the dwarf.

“How could you even KNOW?” I demanded. FIli scratched his head and was suddenly very interested in a rock next to him. I dropped Kili’s hand and chucked my boot at him, ignoring Oin’s grumbling as he tried to tie off a stich. Fili ducked.

“You told him?!” He cleared his throat and glanced at me guiltily.

“Well… He made an inquiry as to where you sustained the rather oddly placed reddish bruise on your throat.” Fili explained. I didn’t think it was possible, but I blushed harder and groaned. Oin pushed me back into my place and returned to re-stitching the wound on my ribs. I hardly paid any mind to him.

“Why didn’t anyone say anything?” I asked, mortified.

“And what would you have had us say, Talya?” Bofur asked, a smirk on his lips. “’It looks like Thorin got a little over eager and left a bit of a passion-mark on your neck.’?”

“Besides, what would you have done?” Kili asked, far too amused for my liking. I shot him a dirty look and he put his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“I could have covered it up or something,” I muttered darkly.

“Oh come now. I am sure Uncle rather enjoyed seeing the mark on you.” Fili added cheerfully.

“Stop,” I groaned, bringing up a hand to hide my face.

“I always did enjoy leaving a bit of a mark on my lovers,” Bofur continued. “Like a little, lovely reminder of a night of desire.”

“Shut upppp,”

“Aye, a little suck mark is alright. I always enjoyed a bit of teeth myself.” This came from Oin and my mouth dropped open. The other three laughed so hard that Bofur practically fell over.

“I hate you all.” I growled out. They only continued to laugh at my discomfort and I flipped them off for their efforts.

“Stop moving, lass.” Oin scolded. He was trying to hide a smile and I glared. “Fifteen stitches this time. You ought to be more careful. I think I’ve stitched you up more than anyone else.”

“I’ll get right on that.” I muttered sarcastically.

Oin re-wrapped my ribs and Kili passed me a shirt from his pack. I gingerly pulled it over my head, the dark grey fabric settling over me and, despite the fact that Kili had the slimmer build of an archer, I still swam in the material. Bofur passed me a spare cloak and I took it, gratefully wrapping it around my shoulders.

We ate then and settled in for the night. Bofur took first watch and the dwarves settled in around me. I could feel sleep beginning to tug at me eyes and it wasn’t until Fili and Kili began to talk about the stories of Erebor that they had grown up with that I finally drifted off to sleep.

We had a late start the next day, Oin insisting that I rest as long as possible before we carried on. Once the fire was out and our things gathered, I tugged my nearly destroyed boots back on and stood slowly. I was pleased to find that my vision did not swim even a little and, after shooting Oin a reassuring smile, I began to walk on, the Lonely Mountain looming above us.

There was a palpable excitement within the four, now that their ancestral home was right there in front of them. The smiles on their faces reminded me of the soldiers of home returning to their loved ones after deployment and I could feel myself smile sadly. The feeling of coming home was not one that I had known in nearly a decade. Not since my mother finally had to sell the home we both had grown up in after my grandparents’ deaths.

It was nearly night when finally we caught sight of the great doors of Erebor, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain where Smaug had erupted from. I tiredly leaned against a rock as the dwarves crept forward in wonder. Bofur let out a loud cry of amazement while Oin wiped back tears and the brothers embraced. I watched them, heart aching. While I knew that the happiness would be short lived, and that in the end it would be hard won, I was happy for them in that moment, despite the fact that I yearned for the same feeling of home coming.

“Erebor,” Fili said, wonderingly. “The halls of our fathers.”

“Home,” Kili whispered.

I sighed softly and glanced at the ground, frustrated with myself for feeling even a little jealous for my friends. Oin took notice and clasped a hand on my shoulder smoothly.

“This could be your home too, lass. No doubt Thorin wishes it to be so.”

I looked at him and smiled slightly.

“Now let us go and greet our kin, for I am sure they have wondered of our fate.”

Fili and Kili bounded back to me and each put an arm around me in a familial way, steading me, with Fili gently bumping his shoulder against me. I snuck my arms around their waists and, with Bofur and Oin leading the way, we headed towards the gates of Erebor.

As we neared, I could see two small forms begin to take shape, both leaning against a large boulder. They jerked their heads up at our approach and I realized it was Dawlin and Balin.

“Oin? Bofur?!” Dwalin yelled loudly, straitening suddenly and running towards us.

“Fili! Kili! Talya!” Balin called, following after. When they finally reached us, Dwalin grabbed Oin’s head in his hands and they smashed their foreheads together before Dwalin punched Bofur solidly in the arm. I rolled my eyes at the masculine displays of affection and gingerly stepped out of Fili and Kili’s grasp as Balin assaulted them both with massive hugs.

Balin pulled away from the brothers and spun towards me while Dwalin turned to greet Fili and Kili. I held up a hand to stop him from rushing me.

“Oi, Talya. You are a right mess!” He stopped before me and touched my face gently, his old calloused palm cupping my chin.

“I’ll be alright, Balin.” I smiled as he patted my cheek.

“We must find Thorin. He has been near out of his mind worrying about you five.” Balin said, stepping back and motioning us forward. I frowned, his wording pulling at me. I stumbled a little and both Fili and Kili resumed their spots at my side, carefully helping me traverse the rocking and debris strewn ground.

Dwalin jogged on ahead and began to cup his hands around his mouth as he called out for the others.

“Thorin! The others! They are back!”

Slowly but surely, other shapes began to take form in the dimming light and I smiled tiredly as I looked over the rest of the company. Fili and Kili stepped forward once more to greet their kin while Bilbo shot ahead to gently hug me around the middle, deftly avoiding the obvious bulge under my shirt where my ribs were bound. My eyes scanned the group as I hugged Bilbo back and I frowned when I realized Thorin wasn’t there.

“Where….?” I asked softly. Bilbo grimaced.

“When we watched as Smaug destroyed Lake Town, Thorin became incensed. He was sure he had doomed you all to your deaths. He has thrown himself into the task of looking for the Arkenstone.”

I shuddered at the word and looked at Bilbo sharply.

“I do not know how you knew of the stone when no one had before spoken of it, but once I saw Thorin’s reaction to it…. I understood your concern.”

I watched him searchingly and he nodded once.

“I have done as you asked.” He said simply and I sighed in relief. Bilbo had the stone. Now I just hoped that Thorin could be saved from the madness that had claimed his grandfather.

Ori must have run ahead to find Thorin because suddenly, the two of them appeared, the flicking light of the far away forges and the torches lit from within casting their faces in shadow.

I stepped forward hesitantly and nearly cried in dismay when I realized that Thorin was wearing a crown on his head already and the fine clothes of royalty, his face a mask. He walked forward slowly, his eyes lighting on Bofur and Oin first, then traveling to Fili, and Kili before his eyes finally settled on me.

He slowly stepped forward to take me in his arms, his face so very serious. He cradled my head to his chest as I clutched at his tunic, my face burrowing against him.

“How are you here?” He asked, wonderingly, first looking down at me before glancing at the others with his brows narrowed. “We saw Smaug attack.”

“And we saw him fall. How?” Dwalin asked, glancing at Oin.

“It is Talyas story to tell,” Oin said simply. Thorin stepped back and held me out at an arm’s length, eyes searching.

“Talya…?” He asked questioningly. I gave a small tired smile.

“They give me too much credit,” I answered and he winced when he heard how gravelly my voice sounded. “It was Bard who shot the beast down.”

Thorin’s eyes hardened at the mention of the man, but said nothing.

“Why don’t we all get inside and settled?” Balin said. “We can hear the story once everyone is taken care of.”

Thorin nodded to Balin.

“To the west wing common room, then. Nori, take Bifur and stoke the fires. There is a chill in the halls that we must be rid of. Bombur, Bilbo, prepare for dinner. Dori, Ori, Gloin, Dwalin…. Search what stores you are able to find clothing and blankets. Balin… Take Bofur, Oin, Kili, and Fili through the gates. Let them see the splendor that was and will again be, Erebor, for the first time.”

The company immediately began to do as Thorin bid and I watched as Dwalin shot an irritated look at me, obviously not pleased with my return.

Thorin and I remained at the gates while the others slowly made their way inside. He turned his piercing blue eyes on me and suddenly the mask dropped and Thorin was looking upon me with such relief and tenderness it stunned me. He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to mine.

“Amrâlimê,” He whispered, oh so softly. I pulled away from him, shocked at his admission and he opened his eyes. He offered a small smile at what he must thought was confusion. “It means…”

“My love,” I finished for him shakily. He frowned, then chuckled softly.

“You never cease to amaze me,” He sighed with a small laugh. “Tell me now, are you a scholar in Khuzdul?”

“Ah, no,” I answered, smiling at him. “It’s just… something I’ve heard.”

“I could teach you,” He offered suddenly and, more than his admission of love, that surprised me. I knew dwarves were so very secretive, particularly when it came to their culture and to their language.

“I doubt I could ever say a word properly.” I admitted, glancing down. Thorin took my hand in his, gently weaving his fingers into mine.

“Ahm- rahl -lim –may.” He prompted, sounding out each syllable, the word rolling easily from his lips.

“Uhm- brahl –a- may.” I frowned, trying to get my mouth to form the right sounds. Thorin nodded his head slowly in encouragement.

“Ahm- rahl –lim –may.” He repeated, slowly. There was a roll to the r as he said it, making it almost sound like a b.

“Ahm- rah –leh- may.” I said slowly, softly. “Ahmrahl-limmay.”

The last attempt must have been close because Thorin wrapped his arms slowly around me and kissed my forehead.

“Amrâlimê,” He whispered once more, holding me close to his chest.

Thorin took care in guiding me through the halls towards the room he spoke of earlier. I had thought that Erebor’s rocky halls would be stark and barren. I had not expected the sheer beauty within the vastness of stone. To know every rock was hewn and shaped by hand was astounding, and I had a hard time grasping the idea.

His face was animated and his voice was filled with such reverence as he spoke of his family and the halls around us that I could hardly tell he was the same stoic dwarf I had met all those months ago. There was such love in him, such selflessness, that I didn’t want to believe that the dragon sickness could ever take him.

We were walking arm in arm, with Thorin bracing me when he finally sighed.

“It’s so cold and dark now, Talya. So quiet.” He said, looking at me suddenly. “But when all of the forges are lit, when the halls echo with the sound of voices, of laughter… of children… “

He trailed off, his voice so full of longing.

“I would to see the glory of these halls returned. To see the homecoming of my people. To finally have a future that we do not have to fight tooth and nail for.”

I stopped and turned to him. I wasn’t used to him being so open, so free with his words. I wasn’t used to his casual displays of affection and I wondered if this is what he always would have been like had such a burden not been thrust upon him.

“And you will,” I promised. I had already decided I would do whatever I had to in order to save him and is nephews no matter what the personal cost.

He smiled at me, a full, true smile that lit up his eyes. He lay a gentle kiss on my lips and, arm in arm, we turned the corner and entered the common room.

The others were gathered around a great fire place, stretched out in a half circle, on the remains of furniture that they had dragged into place. As we made our way towards them, Bilbo and Balin shifted, beaming, so that there was room enough in the center of the half-circle for both Thorin and I to sit together. He helped ease me down gently before taking his place besides me.

“So. Tell me of Lake Town. Tell me of Smaug’s fall.” Thorin said after we had finally settled into place.

I stayed silent as Oin, Bofur, Kili, and Fili took turns telling their parts. My throat was still very much raw so I was content to listen, rather than talk. I knew fairly well what had happened and their accounts of the event did not vary much from what I had expected. The others interjected with questions now and again, much to the annoyance of the story tellers.

FIli had just been explaining how they had barely escaped the fiery blaze when they heard a great roar.

“Smaug flew up into the sky, twisting and turning wretchedly, his voice a snarl in the wind. He let loose one last mighty cry before it was cut short, and he began to fall, faster and faster until at last, the dragon crashed into the center of town, leaving nothing but embers in his wake.”

“Yes, yes, But why did he fall? How was the great beast slain?” Dwalin asked impatiently. Fili, Kili, Oin, and Bofur looked at me expectantly and I let out a long sigh. The eyes of thirteen dwarves and one hobbit were on me and I glanced off into the flames of the fire. Someone passed me a water skin and I cleared my throat.

“After I left the others behind,” I started, a few of the dwarves frowning at the hoarseness of my voice. “I gathered up my weapons, and Galadriel’s bow. I knew I had to find Bard. He had given me the last Black Arrow of Girion for safe keeping. Only with that could Smaug be slain.”

I took a sip of water.

“I ran towards the prisons, sure that the Master had something to do with Bard’s absence. He had already managed to break the bars free of his cell when I arrived. It was just a matter of helping him up to the roof top. By then, Smaug had already lit fire to the town and screams rent the air, flames licking up from the town center, consuming everything in its path. Bard and I made our way to the great tower where the wind- lance stood. Everywhere around us, buildings burned and people screamed.

“It didn’t matter how fast we were, for the inferno was faster. It wasn’t long before we were running through it, the flames licking at us, striking out like whips to singe away at our clothes and skin. My heart was racing so hard, my blood thick with adrenaline, I could not feel anything at all. I could only focus on getting to that tower.”

I coughed again, took another sip of water, and continued.

“It seemed to take forever to reach the tower, though I know now it must have only taken fifteen minutes or so. We made our way up as quickly as possible, our eyes hardly able to leave the dragons’ wretched form. He was soaring to and fro, fanning the flames of the fire to greater heights with his massive wings. There was no way Bard could have made the shot from the distance we were at, and surely not at the speed in which Smaug flew.

“We started to shoot at him with regular arrows, trying desperately to distract him. I couldn’t say what finally caused him to seek us out, because the arrows obviously didn’t bug him a damn bit, but when he did… He flew right above us. I don’t know if he did it on purpose, or if it was just shitty lucky, but his tail lashed out and caught the top portion of the tower, as well as the wind- lance. The sheer force of the blow reduced it to rubble, and Bard and I barely managed to hold our ground.”

I was staring off into the flames, but in my mind, I could see the terrible reptilian eye of the dragon turn to peer at us. I could still hear his voice echoing in my head.

“He began to taunt us then. Telling us how hopeless it was. How there was nothing left for us, but death. Smaug prowled after us, tasting the air and grinning maliciously. Bard had tried to put the pieces of the wind lance back together, but it was too mangled. I told him to use my bow, the bow Galadriel had given me. I wasn’t sure if the bow would hold, or if it would even support the weight of the black arrow, but we had no other choice.

“I helped steady Bard as he drew back the arrow. We waited for an eternity, it seems, for Smaug to draw near enough to shoot. When finally he drew breath and began to bring up his hell fire, Bard took his shot. The arrow sung, straight into the spot on his left breast where a scale was missing.”

I coughed again and I could myself starting to lose my voice.

“He roared then, a terrible noise. But it was nothing compared to the screams that night. They will haunt me until my dying day…”

I let out a shuddering breath and blinked hard, snapping out of the near trance I had been in. The company was watching me, various emotions written on their faces. Thorin’s face alternated between shock, awe, worry, and at some points, jealousy. I felt myself frown, then shook my head.

“Smaug crashed into us then, and we fell into the lake below. I hit hard, the air forced out of my lungs. The water was so cold after the fire above that it was shocking. I barely managed to avoid the falling debris as I finally broke the surface. Bard had fallen just on the other side of the now crumpled tower and, once we found each other, we began to swim out of town. The rest you know.”

I sat back, drained the rest of the water in my skin and closed my eyes, trying to pull through the warring emotions raging within me. So much death and destruction.

“I think I’d like to go to bed now,” I finished softly. My voice was all but gone.

No one spoke as we all settled down into the various bed rolls and furs piled around. Despite the fact that we were now in the halls of Erebor, everyone seemed reluctant to sleep apart. I was glad for it. I did not know how many days we had left together.

Chapter Text

While Thorin’s initial response to our reunion had been sweet and loving, it did not take long for him to become withdrawn once more. He threw himself at the task of clearing away the worst of the damage done by years of neglect, misuse, and the dragons rein, and he set everyone else to their own tasks. Some were to set about immediately fixing the essentials, like the bathrooms and one of the many kitchens. Others cleared away debris. And the rest, like myself, fell to checking the great stores for anything salvageable.

After the nightmare I had about Fili dying, I began to dread sleeping. Too often did I dream of some horrible fate in which one of them, or more, would end up dead or dying. I threw myself into whatever tasks I could, from mending clothes to sorting through closets and chests. Even at night, when we all gathered and stories were told or songs were sung, I would work on, doing all that I could to keep my mind busy so that I didn’t have to lie awake and think, or worse, sleep only to wake in a cold sweat.

I found myself in such a position a few days later. I had dreamt of our stand against Azog back before Beorn’s and while most of it played out as I remembered, the notable difference was that the eagles had not come and I had to watch as, one by one, the dwarves and hobbit fell before me. Azog held me cruelly by my throat, forcing me to watch as their heads were mounted on spikes outside the walls of Erebor.

I awoke, flailing, with someone holding my arms. I threw myself forward as hard as I could, knocking my would-be foe backwards as I straddled them, one boot planted firmly on the ground, my knee planted on their chest, my left hand grabbing their shirt and my right curled into a fist. I was breathing heavy, my heart pounding and when, finally the haze of my nightmare cleared, I realized that I was actually straddling Thorin’s chest. His eyes were opened wide in shock and I felt myself color in embarrassment. I quickly let go and backed away, sitting back on my heels.

I glanced around hurriedly to realize that everyone was staring on, similar looks of shock on their faces. It would have been hysterical, given the fact that everyone was eating breakfast and, some of them, like Bilbo, were mid bite, their mouths dropped open and forks hovering in midair…. But I was too busy trying to calm my racing heart to laugh.

“Remind me never to wake you,” Fili said from my left. Thorin sat up slowly, a mixture of surprise and concern on his face.

“I’m sorry, Thorin.” I said, groaning. “It was just a bad dream. I didn’t mean to..”

“Did you think you harmed me?” He said, a small smirk on his lips. “You are much too small to do too much damage. You are quick, I will give you that. You merely caught me off guard. I am the one to apologize. I did not realize how deeply you dreamed.”

Now that my heart was not in my throat, I sat back on my ass and rubbed my eye irritably at Thorin’s small comment.

“Here,” Bilbo said, passing me a plate. It was a porridge of some sort and I set about picking at it slowly, finding that I did not have much of an appetite after my incredibly vivid nightmare.

After breakfast was cleaned up, Thorin approached me for the first time in days. He hesitantly touched my shoulder and I turned to look at him, heart aching that he was suddenly so close. Despite the crown and royal raiment, he looked more today like the old Thorin than usual, and the relief I felt was palpable. I had begun to worry about him as the days passed, watching as the bags under his eyes deepened and the smiles that I had had come to expect died on his lips.

“Will you walk with me?” He asked softly. I nodded and took his hand when he offered it to me. He began to lead me down the corridors to a set of short stairs. Upon climbing them, we reached a hallway that was filled with ornately carved doors. Many of them were only partly closed and I peeked into the rooms as we passed by. Some were simple bedrooms, others were obviously bathrooms. They were dark and cold and I shivered as I realized the occupants had, more than likely, died long ago.

We finally stopped in front of a closed door and I realized that a flickering light came from under the door. Thorin swung it open and gently pushed me inside. As I stepped in, he leaned on the door frame behind me.

The room was very spacious and filled with finely carved furniture. A large dresser sat against a wall to the right of the door. A large cabinet, its doors still open to show what I assumed to be a weapons storage area, was to the left. Across from us was a hugely carved wooden bed with furs piled high on it. Matching nightstands stood to either side. Another wall held a bookcase, carved into the stone with care, huge volumes still in place. Various carvings and trinkets sat amongst the books.

Across from that was a small fireplace, flames dancing within, a fine painting above it. I stepped closer to study it. In the center was an unfamiliar dwarf, dressed finely in royal clothing, a gleaming gold crown on his head, no doubt Thorin’s grandfather. To his left was Thrain, dressed just as finely with a less elaborate crown. Next to him, a younger dwarf who, despite trying to appear serious, was smiling slightly. I narrowed my eyes as I took in the resemblance to Fili and Kili, and realized that it had to have been Thorin’s brother. He was dressed handsomely and he, too had a small crown on his head. To the far right stood Thorin, wearing a black shirt and a dark blue doublet over the top, a belt cinched tightly at his waist. A crown nearly identical to his brothers sat atop his fully black and complicatedly braided hair, his face so much more relaxed and full of life.

I took in the whole picture, smiling slightly at the sight of a younger Thorin. My smile faltered, however, when I raised my eyes to the depiction of the Arkenstone on the throne above Thror’s head.

“As you may have surmised, these were my rooms,” Thorin said quietly, finally coming to stand behind me. “I remember the day well when my grandfather had this painting commissioned. The artist was a Man, you may be surprised to find. He was so nervous it is truly amazing he managed to paint so finely.”

Thorin gazed on the painting distantly.

“It took six days for the painting to be finished. I remember how irritated I was at the braids in my hair. It took my mother ages to get them the way she wanted them. And, oh, how angry she was when I took them out the second the commission was complete!”

I watched him stray forward slightly and I frowned when I noticed he was eyeing the painted jewel.

“Though… as fine a painter as that Man was…. He still could not come close to capturing the beauty of the Arkenstone…” He trailed off then glanced back at me. “The Arkenstone is the kings’ jewel. Found in the very heart of this mountain. When it was found, my grandfather took it is a divine providence, proof of his right to rule. It was his decree that no dwarf was to ever sit the throne who did not, the Arkenstone, posess.”

“The right to rule doesn’t come from a stone. Your people already follow you without it.” I said softly, an uncomfortable tightness in my chest. Thorin’s brow furrowed and he shook his head.

“You do not understand. When you finally lay your eyes upon it…” He let out a long sigh of near yearning. “You will see.”

I didn’t answer. I shivered and I tugged his cloak tighter around my shoulders. Though it was very much warm in here I knew I shivered less from the cold and more from the dread of hearing such longing in Thorin’s voice. He frowned when he saw me tremble and came to stand behind me, gently wrapping his arm around my waist. He nestled his face against my neck and sighed softly. The intimacy of the gesture bit at me and I turned to face him.

“You’ve been very distant,” I finally said. He furrowed his eye brow and pulled away.

“I have not meant to be.” He admitted after a moment. “Before, I had but two things on my mind. To keep the members of this company safe and to reclaim Erebor from Smaug. Now that the quest is complete… I find myself pulled in many directions.”

“Such as?” I asked slowly, prompting him.

“How to even begin to make right what the dragon wronged. To make these halls once more fit for life. Brining my people home. The gold.”

I frowned and bit my lip. I hated the way his face darkened whenever he mentioned anything to do with the treasure, but it was gone quick enough. Tired eyes looked up at my face, studying me.

“And you, Talya? I do not think I’ve seen you so tired in all of our journey. What haunts you so?”

I worried at my lip again, not really wanting to admit to the nightmares but Thorin knew me better than I thought.

“Whatever you tell me will not make me think less of you.” He prompted.

“Just nightmares.” I finally said. “Most of the time I don’t even remember what they are when I wake up.”

That last part was a lie, but if Thorin noticed he did not say anything.

“I truly am sorry that I scared you so. When you began to thrash around in your sleep, Oin was concerned you might tear your stitches again. I only wished to keep you from harming yourself.”

“I know and thank you. I’d say sorry again for knocking you on your ass, but apparently it didn’t bother you.” I said dryly. He let out a sigh and glanced around.

“To be truthful… I did not realize you were so strong. Granted, had I been prepared, I do not think you could have pushed me over. But the speed in which you moved… I must admit that I am rather impressed.”

“I don’t know whether to thank you for complimenting me or yell at you for underestimating me.” I replied, crossing my arms lightly.

“I did not underestimate you. I have stopped setting limits on what I believe you are capable of because, somehow, you always prove me wrong.” He said bluntly. The honesty of his words surprised me and for a moment I was dumbfounded.

“There is something I did underestimate, however.” The words were much softer spoken.

“And that would be?”

“Your affect on me. Being so close to you after so many days apart…” He trailed off and shook his head. “I have missed you. Your voice. Your touch. Your warmth.”

His voice turned husky and I felt flush. He came to me, then, tugging my arms gently down from their crossed positions. He brushed his knuckles against my cheek and I closed my eyes at the soft touch. When I opened them and met his, there was a sudden lust there that consumed me. I felt heat pool and I leaned forward to kiss him. He watched me with heavy eyes until the first brush of my lips, and then we were both lost, our tongues mingling and our breaths coming in soft pants.

Where before, Thorin had been patient, now he was nearly frantic. Our shirts were off and he had me pressed to the bed before I had even realized we moved and soon the rest of our clothes followed. It was the first time we had been fully naked together and for a moment, we just looked at each other before falling back to an impassioned embrace.

When he finally entered me, I cried out at the suddenness. Our first time he had been so careful to prepare me and now, he was fighting to sheath himself within me. He had paused only long enough for me to urge him on.

We moved together at a near frantic pace, hips thrusting hard and fast, our tongues and lips meeting only to dance away again as we moaned.

I had already come undone twice when I felt him begin to waiver. I knew he was close and, unlike last time, my mind snapped to the reality of what he was about to do, inside of me. My cycle had never been regular to begin with, and with the stresses and strain of our travels, my period had been non-existent, which I had been grateful for. I knew the likelihood of me having fallen pregnant the first time was slim to none, but if this was going to be a regular thing…

“Thorin…” I moaned softly. “You have to… stop..”

He gave a particular hard thrust and I cried out.

“Why in Mahal’s name…?” He growled. My words faltered and I sputtered a moment before I finally just spit it out.

“Not in me.”

He groaned and dropped his head to my shoulder. His pace quickened and for a moment I thought he was going to ignore me when he suddenly pulled out and finished himself off.

Abruptly, he stood and began to get dressed.

“Thorin…?”

He ignored me and began to pull on his trousers. Once he was tucked away, his boots came next. I sat up, feeling suddenly self-conscious that I was naked. It made me angry that he would not even look at me and I tugged one of the musty furs up so that it covered me.

“Thorin.” I said louder, my voice now holding a bite to it. When he finally looked my way, he dropped his hand, his shirt grasped tightly in his fingers.

“Talk to me.” I said softly. His nostrils flared a moment and I realized that he was angry.

“Is the thought of bearing a child to me truly so wretched?” He finally demanded. The hurt in his voice startled me, and it felt as though he had dumped a bucket of cold water over my head.

“No. That’s not it,” I said quietly, closing my eyes and running my hand over my very messy hair.

“Then tell me what it is.”

I didn’t know what to tell him. I was so scared of what I knew was coming that I wasn’t even sure I should still let myself feel for him, let alone sleep with him. I felt tears come to my eyes and I wiped them away, frustrated.

“Talya. Tell me.” Thorin said again, walking closer. This time his voice held concern.

“I don’t even know where we stand,” I whispered. I hated that I sounded so small.

“What do you mean?” He asked. He came to sit next to me on the bed, the anger having all but fled from him.

“What are we to each other?” I said bluntly, glancing down at my hands which I had fisted tightly into the blanket.

“I told you that night in Lake Town that I wished for you to be at my side.”

“I know. But at what capacity? You are the King of Erebor, Thorin. You need a queen and if you think I could be happy being your mistress or whatever… That I could watch you marry another and have her bear you heirs…” I trailed off, my voice failing me. He looked at me sharply and then let out a long sigh.

“Oh, Amrâlimê.” He breathed out. He turned and gripped my chin in his hand lightly. “How could you think I would ever treat you as such?”

I didn’t answer and instead, shamelessly let tears fall from my eyes. Thorin’s next words came so softly that I did could, at first, scarcely believe he said them at all.

“I would have you as my queen, and no other.”

I jerked my head up at him, surprised. His eyes were tender and he was watching me carefully.

“I have had lovers in the past. I have denied many marriages as fathers thrust their daughters at me, eager to have their families wed into the royal line of Durin.” He sighed. “But not once have I ever felt the way I do now.”

I couldn’t speak, my heart aching at his admission.

“We have known each other for a scant six months and I know that I acted terribly towards you. Looking back, I can not believe that I was ever such a fool.” He shifted and I realized how uncomfortable this was for him and how out of character it was for him to be so open about his emotions.

“I would have you as my wife, Talya. As my queen. I want to be the sire of your children, and for us to share these halls together until we pass from this world.” He finished finally before falling silent. I realized that it was, for all intents and purposes, a proposal. I felt tears sliding down my cheeks freely and I once again thought about how unfair this all was.

“Thorin,” My voice cracked and I swallowed. “I love you.”

The words were blunt and now it was his turn to look at me in surprise. We had never said those words directly before and I hated the thrill that went through me.

“I don’t think that, even now, were we to stop whatever is we are doing that I could ever love anyone else the way I love you.”

He frowned then, sensing the obvious hesitation.

“But I can’t be your queen. Look at how Dwalin reacted to find out that we lay together. I am a woman of Man and you are a dwarf. They will never accept me as anything other than your play thing and surely any son I bore to you they would never accept as your heir.”

“They would come to see your worth, just as I did. I swear to you.” He replied. “Children are much beloved by dwarves as they are so rare. Any that you bore to me would be accepted with open arms. And no doubt if we were to have a son, he would be as fierce and stubborn as his mother. My people would love him as much as they will come to love you.”

Thorin glanced down at his lap and, with the way he was sitting, all I could see was him doing was tugging at one of his fingers. After a moment, he turned back to me. He took my left hand in his and slowly pressed something heavy and metal into the palm of my hand. When he pulled away, I looked down to find his heavy iron cast ring there, his runic initials carved in thick relief. I looked up at him questioningly.

“I have had this ring ever since battles end at Azanulbizar, back when I first became known as Oakenshield. While it is not the priceless gems that you deserve, I wish for you to have it all the same. It means much to me.”

“And if I accept it?” I said softly. He offered a very small smile.

“Then you accept me.” He replied simply. He picked up the beautiful red cloak he had been wearing and quickly tore a long and thin swatch of fabric off of it. He picked the ring up from my hand and quickly thread it through the cloth and tied the ring off in the center. I knew I shouldn’t take it. I knew that I should not accept this proposal, not when I knew just how far he would fall. Not when I knew he was supposed to die.

But sitting there in his old rooms, hearing him open himself to me so freely and watching the Thorin I had grown to love look upon me as though I was the most important thing in the world to him, the Arkenstone forgotten … I could not find it within me to say no.

Chapter Text

Thorin and I stayed in the rooms long enough for me to dress and for him to rebraid my hair. His ring was centered just below the hollow of my throat, the red piece of fabric knotted securely at the base of my neck.

We finally walked out towards the main room we had all been staying in, his arm wrapped loosely around my waist. We paused outside of the doors, listening to the casual conversation of those within.

“Thorin… Uh… What are they going to think when they see this?” I asked, suddenly hesitant, gesturing down at my throat. I really did not want a repeat of Dwalin’s performance at Lake Town.

“As you know, gifts of a personal nature such as this are a sign of affection, so in most cases it would mean little more. However…” He trailed off a little and offered another small smile. “I have not been known to give out such trinkets… And the very fact that I have had that ring for so long, and that it means so much to me… They will understand it as my intent to court you and, once I am truly crowned, to make you my wife.”

While the admission made my heart race, I couldn’t help but raise an eye brow to him and smirk a little.

“’Court me’? Somehow I think we are a little past that stage, don’t you?” I leaned in and kissed him solidly, molding my body to the front of us. He growled into my lips and returned the gesture before pulling away.

“Perhaps,” He answered dryly. He nodded his head forward and together, we made our way through the doors and towards the rest of the company.

Everyone looked up as we entered and it didn’t take them long to find Thorn’s ring around my neck. Balin smiled and stood up, coming over to embrace me and clasp Thorin on the back. One by one, the company made their way over to us, offering congratulations. The only two members of the group that hesitated were Dwalin and, oddly enough, Bilbo.

Bilbo finally offered me a small smile and squeezed my shoulder gently before patting Thorin on the back and withdrawing as Dwalin stepped forward.

Dwalin and Thorin stared at each other, their expressions neutral, until finally Dwalin inclined his head towards Thorin. Thorin returned the gesture and, after a moment, the two embraced.

“Congratulations, Talya.” Was all he said to me.

“Thank you,” I replied softly.

“Well now. This is a fine occasion to roll out some of the barrels of ale we found in the cellars!” Nori called out, clapping his hands together. Bofur grinned.

“Aye! It’s not every day your king decides to settle down!”

“What do you say, Thorin?” Balin asked. “How about a bit of a celebration?”

Thorin gave an exaggerated sigh, as though the decision was a painful way to make. He glanced at me and I just gave him an innocent grin.

“As you will,” he finally conceded. The dwarves cheered.

Suddenly, there was much bustling as Bombur called for volunteers to go and catch fish and freshwater crustaceans from a lake-fed stream just out a side door. Huge barrels of ale and some suspicious looking bottle of an amber liquid were brought into the room as tables and chairs were hauled into place.

Before long, it looked like a regular party. Bofur had brought out his flute and was playing a merry tune as preparations were made. Almost as soon as everything was in its place, ale was poured and passed around. A large mug was pressed into my hand by Nori with a wink.

“Now this is true ale. None of that watered down piss you’ve had in the past.”

I took a hesitant sniff of the heady brew and took a small taste. It was strong and bitter, though not terrible. It would definitely take some getting used to.

“Oi. What was that little sip?” Gloin demanded. “If you are gonna be one of us, you’ve got to drink like us! Bottoms up!”

I glanced over at Thorin, who was leaning against one of the tables, a flagon in hand, smirking ever so slightly.

“I will… If Thorin does.” I replied. Thorin raised an eye brow at me, then slowly lifted his mug and did a ‘cheer’s gesture with it. If I thought he was going to hesitate, I was wrong. He downed it in one go, not spilling a single drop. Then he plopped the mug back down on the table and crossed his arms, watching me with an almost challenging expression.

The rest turned to look at me and I sighed, then shrugged. I upended it to the cheers of the dwarves.

Food was ready soon, and we all plopped down at the tables, eating and drinking to our hearts content. I was determined to enjoy myself, determined to put everything else out of my mind and enjoying the evening with the company that had grown to mean so much to me. I knew that I was probably drinking more than I should, but I really didn’t care at that point. I wanted to forget, even if it was just for a few hours.

“Right, then. Now tha’ dinners out of the way… How about we break out the real drinks, eh?” Bofur called out, grabbing a bottle of the amber colored liquid. Small glasses that looked very much like the shot glasses from home were produced and, after being filled, handed out. Bilbo and I took them hesitantly, glancing at each other before both sniffing the contents. I jerked my head up, nose crinkled.

“Oh god. What the hell is this?” It smelled like jet fuel.

“Fine dwarvish whiskey, that!” Dori called out.

“Depends on your meaning of ‘fine’,” I grumbled.

“Come now. It puts a fire in your belly and hair on your chest!” Nori downed his in one go, smacking his lips dramatically. Everyone else followed suit, leaving only Ori, Bilbo, Thorin and I with full glasses. Thorin attempted to pass his on to Balin, but Bofur shook his head.

“Oh, no. You, too, Thorin!”

Thorin had not been much of a drinker in our travels and I wondered if he thought it unbecoming of a king, if he hadn’t been in the mood, or if he just wasn’t much of a drinker. Given the fact that he was a dwarf, I highly doubted that it was the latter.

I glanced down at my shot, winked at Ori, then downed it.

Oh. God.

It burned like hell. I could literally feel the heat travel down my throat and splash into my stomach. I coughed hard and Bilbo looked truly concerned. I cleared my throat and made a face.

“Come on Bilbo. Just plug your nose and do it.”

“Does that help?” He asked dryly, peering down at the contents of the glass once more. I shrugged.

“Try it and find out.” He gave a heavy sigh, pinched the bridge of his nose and downed it. He sputtered and coughed.

“I thought you said it would help!” I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous look on his face. I glanced at Ori, then Thorin.

“Come on, you two. If Bilbo and I can drink this then so can you. Unless, of course, you are scared.”

It was like a gauntlet smack to the face. I knew the pride of the dwarves would not allow for that challenge to stand and so I watched with a grin as Thorin lifted the glass to his lips and, without flinching in the slightest, swallowed the entire shot. Ori followed suit and, just as Bilbo and I had, he sputtered and coughed as soon as he could breath.

There was much cheering from the dwarves, this apparently being the first time Ori had ever tasted the stuff. He did not look much like he was enjoying it.

“Another round!” Nori shouted and between Bofur and him, they hurried around the table and refilled the glasses.

“I am fine, thank you. I will stick to the ale.” Bilbo said, covering his glass before Bofur could pour more. Bofur winked at me and I had a feeling Bilbo’s ale was going to end up spiked.

“So, what do you think of your first taste of our whiskey, Talya?” Fili asked. I glanced at him and watched him down his second glass.

“I think that I could breathe fire about as well as a dragon,” I said dryly, swishing the glass around in my hand. Nearly everyone had completed their second shot. I felt eyes on me and glanced up to meet Thorin’s eyes. He very deliberately lifted his glass, touched it to his lips and, with a small heart-melting playful smile that I had never seen on his lips before, downed it. He set the glass down with a solid clunk.

“Why do you hesitate, Talya? Surely you are not –afraid-?” He asked in his deep voice, raising an eyebrow at me. I let out a grunt. And I said the dwarves were stubborn. I wrinkled my nose and downed the second shot to the cheers of the company around me. Even Bilbo was laughing, though I had a feeling it was more at the face that I made than for anything else.

“How about a song?” Bofur called out. This was met to a round of applause and, without further ado, he hopped up on to the table and began to sing a rowdy bar song. We all clapped along, most of the dwarves calling out the words right along with him.

I was feeling pleasantly warm by this point, having already had two mugs of ale on top of the hell-fuel they called whiskey. It felt good to relax and to be able to separate myself just a little from the future.

After Bofur’s song, there was much carousing as the dwarves began to hop around and, locking arms, swing about and stamp their feet in a rhythmic dance. Bilbo and I clapped and cheered them on, particularly when Fili and Kili snagged Thorin from his seat and pulled him into the fray. It didn’t take long for the complicated dance to dissolve into a min-fist fight as the dwarves more rambunctious manner took over. I was watching Thorin and Dwalin wrestle when Fili and Kili came and plopped down next to me.

“This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen Uncle.” Kili said, leaning back against the table and taking a long draw of ale from my mug. I mock-glared at him and he offered it back to me with a grin. I tugged it back only to find it was empty.

“Nor have I ever seen him this light-hearted,” Fili added. He reached across the table and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He poured out three portions and handed one each to Kili and I.

“To our uncle, King under the Mountain,” Fili started, lifting his glass up.

“And to Auntie Talya,” Kili finished with a wink. I glared at him and we all downed the glasses. As soon as Kili plunked his down, I punched him in the stomach, probably a little harder then I meant to. He grunted, then laughed it off and shook his head.

“You get feisty when you are drunk,” He said with a chuckle.

“I’m not drunk. Just… pleasantly warm.” I argued. “And if you ever call me ‘Aunti’ again, I will show you just how feisty I can get.”

“Alright, Alright.” He put a hand up and I saw a glint in his eye. “Auntie.”

“Oh that its.” I launched myself out of my chair and tackled Kili to the floor. He let out an involuntary yelp of surprise and we both ended up on our backs, laughing hysterically. Fili came to stand over the top of us.

“Kili. Why would you provoke our Auntie so?” He said cheekily grinning down at me. I rolled my eyes and he leaned over to help us up when, in a quick jerk, I hooked my foot behind his knee and brought him down on top of Kili.

“Alright, alright. We won’t call you Auntie!” Kili cried from under Fili. I rolled myself to a stand and watched the brothers untangle themselves.

“Does our Uncle know how feisty you get when you are ‘pleasantly warm’?” Fili asked, brushing himself off.

“No doubt Thorin knows all about her when she is ‘pleasantly warm’.” Bofur cracked from behind me. I huffed and stuck my tongue out at him.

“What do I know?” Thorin asked, finally having broken the match between him and Dwalin. He grabbed a mug off of the table and took a long draw from it.

“Your intended gets quite violent when drinking, apparently.” Bofur answered.

“Do not,” I grumbled. “I was provoked.”

“No doubt you were,” Thorin answered. “I am surprised neither of my nephews sport black eyes.”

Fili laughed out right at that and threw a punch at Kili’s shoulder. Kili grumbled and shook his head.

“Fili. Kili!” Dwalin bellowed from across the table. We glanced in his direction to find him seated with an odd looking machine in hand. If I didn’t know better, I would have said it was a gun, but it was attached to a box that had a hand-crank to it, which Bifur was dutifully working. There were a few pots of what looked like ink. I frowned for a moment before my eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“That’s an ink gun for tattoos!” I stated in surprise. Balin glanced over at me.

“Aye. I do not know the word ‘gun’, but it is for tattoos.” He replied.

Fili and Kili walked over to Dwalin and he gestured for Fili to sit. Bilbo followed behind, fascinated.

“It’s time for you two whelps to get your first tattoos.” Dwalin growled out. Ori walked over to the table and placed two sheets of parchment paper down in front of Dwalin. He looked down at them, up to Ori, then nodded.

“Here,” Dwalin handed Fili and Kili each a sheet and they glanced down at them before nodding, smiling, at Ori.

“Come now, Fili. Off with your shirt.”

I watched in fascination as Fili tugged off his tunic and turned so that his right bicep was to Dwalin. Dwalin glanced down at the design and with no hesitation, dipped the tip of the gun into an ink pot and began to tattoo Fili. Fili did not flinch even a little as Dwalin began to work. Bilbo continued to watch and make awful faces at the process.

“If I didn’t know better, I might be jealous,” Thorin said softly. I turned to look at him and he was watching me carefully, a slightly amused expression on his face.

“Fili is good looking,” I stated, then smiled warmly at Thorin. “But hes not you.”

Thorin let out a dry laugh and slowly wrapped an arm around my waist. While he was not nearly close to being drunk, I could feel how relaxed he was and I leaned in to him.

“Are tattoos uncommon among dwarves?” I asked, watching as the design began to take shape under Dwalin’s steady hand.

“No,” Thorin answered. “I will most likely get one when I am officially crowned as King. Some dwarves get them to remember those fallen. Others, special occasions in their life, such as the birth of a child. Dwalin has many, and each one has a different meaning. It is not even unheard of for our women-folk to get tattoos done.”

I nodded slowly, unable to tear my eyes off of the work being done.

Bofur crossed in front of us, holding out a shot to each of us. I winced, knowing that another one would probably put me over the limits of buzzed into drunk territory. Thorin did not hesitate, however, and he smirked at me in challenge as he took his shot. I let out a pained sigh and did my own.

“Thorin!” Gloin called from his spot at the table. Him, Nori, Dori, Oin, and Balin were gathered around with a set of dice in hand.

“I am being summoned,” He said softly, almost sarcastically, and I smiled at teasing tone in his voice. He took my hand and left a soft kiss on the back of it before he turned and made his way over to the gambling dwarves.

I turned back to watch Dwalin and Fili before I slowly made by way over to Ori, who was sitting off to the side with a mug of ale in front of him, his eye brows narrowed in concentration as he sketched in his leather bound book. I watched his quill move furiously and I slowly lowered myself next to him.

“Your art never ceases to amaze me,” I said softly when he paused to offer me a smile. He flushed.

“Thank you, Talya.”

“I didn’t realize you drew up tattoos.” I said, glancing back at Dwalin and the brothers, then back to Ori’s book. He shrugged.

“I am a dwarf of many talents,” He answered almost lustily, then realized what he said and blushed.

“I don’t doubt that,” I replied teasingly. He went back to furiously scribbling in his book. For a while I sat next to him, watching as Kili took his brothers place next to Dwalin. Fili was looking at his bicep, turning this way and that, admiring the stark black design there. It was made up of dwarven ruins and geometric patterns.

“What do their tattoos mean?” I asked softly. Ori glanced up.

“Well, to be honest, most of the patterns are just for show. If you noticed, each of us tends to have a different pattern to our clothing, our jewelry, the like. I incorporated each of their designs into their marks. The runes are the same for both, and it states roughly ‘Son of Frerin’, as a sort of way to remember their father by.”

I nodded but said nothing. Then, hesitantly, I cleared my throat.

“So… If you were to draw up a pattern for me, what would it be?” I asked, almost shyly. Ori glanced up at me and studied me for a moment, very seriously. Then, slowly, he dipped his quill back into the ink, pulled out a clean piece of parchment, and began to sketch. I tried to glance at it but he tsked me and motioned for me to watch as Kili was tattooed.

Fili was teasing his brother unmercifully as Kili grumbled loudly. Apparently he was not as stoic about the tattoo as his older brother had been. Dwalin shushed them both roughly and the two brothers exchanged sheepish grins.

Kili was nearly done before Ori finally tapped me on the shoulder and pushed the piece of parchment to me. I studied it, amazed at the crisp dark lines and interlocking lines. It had only two runes on it, one on each side of the tattoo, and I glanced up at Ori.

“What does these mean?” I asked, pointing to them. He glanced at me very timidly.

“Strength and heart.” He answered simply. He pointed at the center. “And if you look closely here, you can see that the patterns form the shape of a dragon.”

I peered down at it and smiled brightly at Ori. I brought the shy dwarf into a bear hug in which he sputtered fiercely. I picked up the parchment in hand and began to walk towards Dwalin. On the way, I snagged the shot Nori was about to take out of his and downed it myself.

I came to stand in front of Dwalin just as Kili was getting up. I held out the parchment to him and he took it, raising an eyebrow to me.

“If you would, Master Dwalin,” I said. He narrowed his eye brows and studied me for a long moment. Finally he inclined his head towards the bench Kili had been sitting on. I tugged the tunic off leaving me in my usual sports-bra esque undergarment. I pushed my hair out of the way and turned so that my right bicep was facing Dwalin.

“Are you sure?” Dwalin said finally. I nodded.

“If they can do it, so can I.”

“You would mark yourself?” Thorin asked. I hadn’t realized that he had been watching, and when I turned to look at him, I found that everyone was suddenly watching. Bilbo looked fairly green after having watched the two brothers be tattooed.

“You said it’s not uncommon for dwarven women to get tattooed, did you not?” I asked.

“Tis true. But among Men, particularly of your gender…” He trailed off. “It is usually taboo.”

“But I am not among Men.” I answered. “And if it is acceptable to you that I get this done… Then I would be honored to bear a dwarven mark on me.”

Thorin glanced at Dwalin for a moment, then gave a single nod of his head. Balin smiled warmly at me and tugged a chair up to sit next to me. Everyone else followed and I suddenly felt quite self-conscious.

“So. Who wants to take bets on how many times she swears?” Nori called out, winking at me. I flipped him off as Dwalin studied the parchment. I ignored them as bets began to be called out. When Bofur claimed an astounding eighty-six times, I flipped him off. He blew me a kiss, then called for a shot to be passed to me. I downed it as Bifur began to work the hand crank and the gears in the gun began to whir.

Dwalin gripped my elbow tightly in hand and leaned forward. I let out a long breath and pointedly looked away as the first needle touched my skin.

“Ah, fuck.” I snapped, trying not to flinch.

“And there’s the first!” Bofur called out, laughing.

Everyone fell into telling stories and crass jokes as Dwalin tattooed my arm and I knew they were doing their best to distract me. I was torn between being touched at their concern and irritated that they thought I needed distraction. Which I totally did, because fuck did it hurt, but I wasn’t about to admit it.

Drink were passed around and it was becoming glaringly obvious that most of the dwarves were becoming quite drunk. The more they drank, the crasser they got and, half of the time, the jokes that spilled from their lips were in half-dwarvish. I had to roll my eyes, coming to realize that I would never really understand just why the punchline to a cat being in pajamas was just so damn funny. At one point, even dear Bilbo popped off with a joke so terrible that even Dwalin had to stop what he was doing, lay his head in the crook of his arm, and laugh.

“Come on, lass. You must have some sort of joke or song or lymeric.” Gloin called out, wiping a tear out of his eye.

“Gloin, don’t encourage her to sing –hick-!” Fili called out. He had sat down immediately to my left and passed me his mug of ale. I took it, drained it, and then handed it back. The second he turned to set it down on the table, I sucker punched him with my left fist, hitting him directly on his fresh tattoo. He yowled and Kili laughed hysterically. Even Thorin sniggered.

“I’ve got plenty,” I said, letting out a burp. “S’cuse me. But I can’t seem to think of a ssssingle damn one.”

“Well, try harder.” Nori called. I turned to glance at him, screwed my face up, then brightened.

“There once wasss a man from Nantucket…” I started out. By the time I was done, Ori was blushing horribly, Bilbo was red faced, and half of the dwarves were rolling around on the floor in tears.

“There now.” Dwalin said, sitting back. I blinked slowly and sat up straight, stretching out my back. I gingerly shifted my arm, wincing at how sore it was, and glanced down.

Just as with Fili and Kili’s, the designs were done in all black, a stark contrast to my pale skin there. The design spanned the entire length of my upper bicep and ran down about three inches were it came to a solid point. I was surprised at the detail and intricacy Dwalin had managed and I smiled warmly at the dwarf.

“Thank you, Dwalin.” I said sincerely. The usual stony expression he seemed to reserve just for me softened just a little.

“You are welcome, Talya.” He answered.

I stood up and spontaneously hugged him. He froze, then awkwardly patted my back. Behind me, the scores of my bet were being settled. Ori had won at twenty-eight.

“Oi. Dwalin gets hugged while the rest of us get punched and tackled. Hows’ that fair?” Kili demanded. I grinned and turned around. Drunkenly, I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and hugged him tightly.

“Psh. You guyssss know I love you.” I turned away from him to hug Fili who, as soon as I let go, turned and sucker punched me in my arm, just as I had done him.

“Hey!” I yelped. “Thass no way to treat a lady!”

“Didn’t we have this discussion in Rivendell, Talya?” He shot back, grinning. I rubbed my arm tenderly.

“Thorrriiinnn.” I whined. He stepped up behind me and shook his head.

“What am I to do with you three?” He asked.

“What do I have to do with it? They started it!” I stumbled and he caught me around the waist. Tender eyes looked down at me.

“I do believe, Amrâlimê, that you are quite drunk.” He stated softly. I shushed him.

“No one can know.” I replied in a loud mock-whisper. He chuckled softly and brushed his lips against my forehead.

“Your secret is safe with me.” He whispered. We kissed then, much to the delight of the surrounding dwarves. I had quite forgotten for a moment that they were there and I felt myself once more flush as they cat-called. Thorin groaned and pulled away. He glared at Fili and Kili, who had been the loudest of the bunch.

“Enough.” He pointed at his nephews. “Ten shots. First one to finish wins.”

Fili and Kili looked at each other and grinned hugely. A stunned Nori quickly produced a bottle of whiskey and began to pour out the shots. Balin came to stand next to me.

“Are they gonna be alright?” I asked, watching with one eye closed as the dwarves began to make bets. Balin chuckled.

“It’ll take a lot more than a dozen shots to take down Thorin Oakenshield.” He answered. “Fili and Kili… I do not think they appreciate their Uncles’ tolerance. They have never seen him drink as I have. They will be in for a world of hurt tomorrow, I think.”

I watched and cheered along with the others as the three began to down the shots. As Balin had guessed, Thorin was in the lead from the beginning. He downed one shot after another, clunking each glass upside down on the table as he went. By the time he had finished his tenth, Fili and Kili were still on their sixth and seventh, respectively. Kili thwacked Fili in the gut as Fili was about to down his seventh, and ended up sloshing half of it on himself. Thorin stepped back in time to avoid getting an elbow to the face as the two brothers decided to finish the contest with a drunken wrestling match.

Thorin gingerly stepped over the two and made his way to my side. While it was obvious that he still was not drunk, the jerk, I could tell that he was, at the very least, buzzed. I watched him walk towards me, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes and my heart ached. This was the dwarf that I had only glimpsed at until this point. He was carefree and mischievous, his wit sharp and his words dry. As he wrapped his arms around me, I burrowed my face in his chest and, for the first time, allowed myself to really hope that he everything would turn out alright.

Chapter Text

I woke up the next morning wrapped up in Thorin’s cloak, my head in the crook of my very sore arm. I groaned and sat up slowly, my head pounding and the world spinning. I peered around me to find that nearly everyone was passed out on the floor except for Thorin, who was nowhere to be found. I frowned and moved to stand.

“He’s back down with the treasure, looking for the stone,” I turned my head to look at Bilbo, who was the only one awake. I frowned and brushed my hand across my face, pushing strands of hair out of my eyes.

“Come with me?’ he asked softly. His tone was very serious and very not like him. I nodded and stood slowly. I waited for a moment to calm my rebelling stomach before following after the hobbit. When we reached a side room, he paused and looked at me.

“Do you really think that taking his offered proposal was good idea?” He asked finally. It was so not what I was expecting and my mouth opened and closed for a moment.

“What do you mean?” I finally asked dumbly.

“Talya, you must have seen it. How he has changed.”

“But last night…”

“Was one night. Talya…” He sighed and glanced off in the distance where the faint golden glow lit up the corridors. “You have not gone down there with him. You have not seen the madness in his eyes. You don’t understand…”

This was not what I needed right then. My head hurt terrible and I felt as though I was going to vomit.

“I know, Bilbo.” I finally ground out. Bilbo shook his head.

“No, you can’t…”

“Dammit, Bilbo! I know!” I snapped. He jumped and looked at me in confusion. “I know everything,”

The words were broken and I hated the weakness in my voice.

“Do you think my little foresights were just nifty little guesses of what was to come?” I asked, “Did you think that I just had really good women’s intuition?”

Bilbo frowned and shook his head.

“Talya, I don’t understand.”

“I’ve known all along how everything was going to happen. I knew about the quest before Gandalf ever found me. I knew about the trolls. About the goblins.”

“That is impossible…” Bilbo started.

“I know what you found when you went up against the creature Gollum.” Bilbo froze and his eyes shot up to watch me warily. A flicker of something flashed over his face and I let out a dry laugh.

“I’m not interested in your ring, Bilbo.” I said softly. “I’m here to keep Fili and Kili alive. To keep Thorin alive.”

He watched me for a moment, uncertainty in his eyes.

“What about the rest…” He started.

“They aren’t fated to die.” I interrupted. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, much like mine had earlier.

“Oh, Talya…” He whispered softly. He hugged me suddenly and I let out a soft sob.

“Bilbo… You have to promise me something.” I whispered. He pulled back and leveled me with a serious look.

“When the time is right, and you will know it when it is, take the Arkenstone to Thranduil and Bard.”

“But…”

“Please, Bilbo. It’s important.”

He closed his mouth into a thin line and nodded slowly.

“I promise.”

I nodded and touched my hand to my pounding head.

“I’ve been a coward.” I said softly. “I don’t want to go down there. I don’t want to see him like that.”

I glanced down the corridor and could feel my heart breaking. Last night felt like a dream, a distant memory that held no baring.

“You are not a coward,” Bilbo stated firmly. “You are the bravest person I have ever met.”

I choked back a small laugh as he hugged me once more.

“Come now. You could use some tea, and I am sure the others will be hurting too. Once you’ve drank some, and had something to eat… Then we can worry about facing Thorin.”

He led me away back to the common room where the dwarves were beginning to stir, groaning. Bilbo set about making tea and, as soon as Oin awoke, helped the healer begin to make something for the hangover all of us had.

“Where’s Uncle?” Fili asked, yawning and rubbing sleep from his eye. I looked away.

“Hes resumed his search,” was all Bilbo said. Fili glanced at his brother and the two frowned.

“Perhaps we should go talk with him…” Kili said, trailing off.

I sat myself back in the spot I had awoken in, leaning myself against one of the benches, pulling Thorin’s cloak tightly around my shoulders. After Oin brought me tea, I stared off into the fire. My heart hurt so much that I could barely even think. I closed my eyes and leaned it back against the bench. I felt so stupid for allowing myself to believe, even for a second, that one night of revelry and drinking would suddenly alter Thorin’s sickness.

Thankfully, everyone seemed to be just as hungover as I was and I was left alone. I don’t know how long I sat there, the dregs of my tea having long gone cold, before suddenly I heard Dwalin calling out.

“The man, Bard, is riding towards our gate!” He hollered. My eyes popped open and I felt a chill run down my spine. There was a huge commotion as everyone rushed towards the gate. I did not need to walk up there to know what was going to be said. I did not want to see Bard and I did not want to see the look on Thorin’s face.

I leaned myself back against a pillar and waited for the scene to unfold. It didn’t take long for Thorin to stomp down the steps of the ruined gate to speak with Bard through a crevice in the blocked doors. I watched from a far as Thorin’s face contorted in anger and I closed my eyes tightly at the tears that threatened.

Thorin turned to storm away when he finally saw me.

“Talya.” He looked startled. “I am sorry I was not there when you woke… I was busy…”

“Thorin…”

“I was looking for the Arkenstone. It has to be there somewhere. It has to be. It must be found, it will be. Everyone will search through the night if necessary.” His voice was distant, his eyes nearly glassed over. I ached to see him like this, particularly after the night before.

“Thorin, do you hear yourself?” I asked softly.

“You must come down to see it. You have not yet and, oh Talya, it is a sight to behold. The golden glow of my grandfather’s treasure, the glistening jewels. There is something there fit for you to wear as my queen, and I will find that too, once the Arkenstone is found…”

“Dammit, Thorin, will you listen to yourself?” I finally snapped. His head jerked to look at me.

“What are you talking about, ghivashel?” I did not like the way he said that, did not like the way he looked at me as the word passed his lips.

“You are ranting and raving. You looked exhausted. What happened to you? You were so different last night.”

“I am fine… The Arkenstone..”

“Can wait! There are so many more important things to deal with right now!”

“What can be more important than regaining my family’s greatest treasure?” He asked, his voice almost a laugh.

“How about war? How about Bard and the people of Lake town?”

His eyes hardened at the mention of Bard and he sneered.

“You suggest that we give them the share that that Man Bard” The name came out as a growl “Has demanded?”

“Yes, dammit. We need to repay…”

“Repay them for what! For nearly imprisoning us? For their false flattery? For the Master’s greed as he sought to bargain away my people’s wealth for moldy bread and moth eaten blankets?!” He snarled and I flinched.

“Because they used what little resources they had to help you on your way. Because people died for the gold you now hoard. Because their homes were destroyed. And because you gave your word.” I snapped back. Thorin laughed then, a harsh and bitter sound that was not his.

“Do not waste your sympathies on them, ghivashel. They are but greedy Men who deserve nothing.” He reached out to try and touch my face but I pushed his hand away.

“Are you forgetting that I am of the race of Men?” I growled out.

“Do not put yourself in the same league as them, ghi…”

“Stop calling me that!” I yelled. Thorin narrowed his eye brows.

“It is a term of endearment. It means…”

“I know what it means. I am not a treasure, Thorin. I am a god damn person. I don’t understand how you can be like this!”

“And I do not understand why you are putting up such a fuss for them!” He yelled back loudly, his voice echoing. “You are to be my queen. They are beneath your notice!”

I shook my head at him.

“That’s not you talking. The Thorin Oakenshield I know would remember what it was like to have nothing. To have your home destroyed, to lose loved ones, and to beg and scrape to get by. The Thorin Oakenshielf I know would honor his word!”

“They will not get a single coin!” His voice was so low and dangerous I took a step back. “They can beg and starve as we did!”

“So you would turn your back on them when they need your help the most?” I asked, my voice shaking. He didn’t meet my eyes.

“I owe them nothing.” Came his solid reply.

“Then you are no better than Thranduil when he turned his back on you.” I bit out softly. Thorins head snapped up and he glared at me, the look on his face pure venom. Faster than I could react, he grabbed my wrist in his hand, his grip painfully tight. Tears sprang to my eyes.

“How dare you speak to me like that?” He demanded. “I am King!”

“You are hurting me,” I tried to keep the emotion out of my voice. He glanced down at his hand then, seeming to be surprised to find that his fingers were so tightly encircling my much smaller wrist. He let go as if I had burned him and looked at me searchingly. Without another word he turned and brushed past me and I cradled my bruised wrist to my chest, tears flowing freely down my cheeks.

“To the armory!” He yelled. “We must fit ourselves for war!”

I left then, not able to stand watching as they outfitted themselves in armor. I wandered for a while before I finally found myself in Thorin’s old room. I curled up on the bed and closed my eyes. Had it really only been the day before that a much different Thorin had asked if I would be his wife?

I could feel tears still falling freely from my face, but I could not bring myself to wipe them away. After a while, I propped myself up against the headboard and began to listlessly run my fingers over Thorin’s cloak.

“I can’t reach him,” Bilbo said softly and I raised my eyes to meet his as he stepped through the door way. “He believes that one of his kin has stolen the Arkenstone from him.”

I didn’t answer, just nodded my head slowly. Bilbo approached me slowly before sitting down next to me on the bed.

“You knew he would, though, didn’t you?” I nodded my head slowly and he sighed.

“I could not imagine knowing what you do,” He said softly. “It would drive me…”

He trailed off and winced. I gave a bitter laugh.

“Drive you mad, Bilbo. That is what I believe you were going to say.”

We sat there quietly, staring into the cold hearth of the fireplace. Bilbo finally looked up at me.

“Thranduil’s army is outside the gates of Dale. No doubt Bard is there with his soldiers as well.” He said. I glanced at him.

“I will go tonight,” Bilbo went to stand, but I shot out my hand to touch his arm.

“Bilbo…” I said suddenly. “I want to see it. The Arkenstone.”

He frowned but didn’t argue. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a well concealed handkerchief. He unwrapped it slowly and I watched as the glistening gem slowly came into view. It was beautiful beyond measure and the reflection it in reminded me of the Northern lights. It should have left me feeling awestruck and amazed but all I felt was hatred for the cold rock.

“Go, Bilbo. Take it away.” I muttered brokenly. He rewrapped the jewel and tucked it back in his pocket safely before taking my hand in his and squeezing it gently. We looked at each other a moment longer before he turned and left.

He was long gone by the time I finally untangled myself from Thorin’s cloak and made my way back to the common room where everyone was gathered, adjusting their armor and sharpening their swords. I felt eyes follow me and I self-consciously tugged the cloak tighter around me, hiding the dark bruises that had already begun to form on my wrist. I finally stood in front of Thorin. He was slow to raise his eyes to me.

“Thorin… Can we talk, please?” He face was stern and solemn.

“Will you dare to compare me again to that thrice-damned elf?” He asked with a sneer. I dropped my eyes and rubbed my aching wrist without thinking about it. Thorin let out a soft gasp and his eyes softened. He cursed quietly in dwarvish and hesitantly reached for me.

“Talya… “ I flinched away from him and I saw the hurt in his eyes. He frowned, then set his axe down. He stood and, careful not to touch me, led me out into the halls.

“I did not mean to cause you harm.” His voice was his own again, soft and sad. I glanced up at him.

“What is happening to you, Thorin?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“I do not understand what you mean,” He replied, frowning further.

“You are not my Thorin. You are different.” He huffed.

“Everyone continues to tell me this, and yet I see it not!”

I dropped my eyes again and he let out a long sigh.

“I do not wish to fight with you, Amrâlimê.”

I hesitated then, closing my eyes tightly. I slowly reached out and took his hand in mine.

“Come with me?” I asked softly. He glanced back towards the others.

“There are many preparations to make, Talya…”

“Thorin,” I interrupted, my voice so soft. “I need you.”

I watched his eyes shift, I watched lust fill them, I watched a small bit of my Thorin peek out, and I hated myself. I tugged gently at his hand and, when I found no resistance, I led him slowly to his bedroom and, once we were inside, closed the door behind me.

He immediately went to the hearth and started a fire that soon had the room warm and bathed in a flickering light. We took our time undressing one another, took our time to learn one another’s bodies. We drew out one another’s pleasure with our hands, our mouths. We poured all the love we had for one another into our lust, into our passion, and once we could move no more, we slept.

I woke him again in the middle of the night and once more, we rode our passions until we collapsed in each other’s arm. It was as much a way to distract him from Bilbo’s missing presence as it was a goodbye.

The next morning we woke and silently, I watched as he pulled on his armor and once more secured his crown on top of his head. He pressed a searing kiss to my lips before he turned and left me in the room, touching my lips and with no tears left to cry.

I slowly dressed and began to make my way towards the common rooms. Bilbo passed by me and offered me a very sad smile and I knew he had done as I asked. I should have felt at least relieved that he had managed the task without being seen, but I couldn’t find it in me.

It wasn’t long before I heard a commotion outside and the dwarves once more gathered at the front gate. I slowly walked up and leaned against the wall, looking out at the elves and men gathered there. Thranduil on his elk and Bard on his white stallion were waiting, watching. Thorin had Kili’s bow in hand, an arrow knocked and drawn back.

“We have come to tell you that payment of your debt has been offered.” Thranduil called up, his voice echoing. “And accepted.”

Thorin sneered.

“What payment?” He demanded. “I gave you nothing! You have nothing!”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow and glanced at Bard, who shifted on his horse. Bard reached into his coat and pulled out the Arkenstone. He looked down at it a moment, before raising his eyes to meet Thorins. He raised his hand up, the stone glistening in hand.

“We have this,”

Thorin inhaled sharply and began to lower his bow, his face drawn into a mask of shock and confusion. I bit my lip and crossed my arms tightly against my chest, my stomach in knots.

“They have the Arkentstone,” Kili muttered softly. “THEIVES! How came you by the heirloom of our house?! That stone belongs to the king!”

Bard shrugged.

“The king may have it.” He tossed the stone up and caught it easily before tucking it back in the pocket of his coat. “And our good will. But first, he must honor his word.”

Thorin shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes off of Bard.

“They are taking us for fools,” He growled out, lowly. “It is a ruse. A filth lie!”

Thorin leaned forward and glared down at the elf and man.

“The Arkenstone is in this mountain! It is a trick!”

I watched as Bilbo hesitated and I closed my eyes tightly for a moment before watching the hobbit step forward.

“It’s no trick,” He said cautiously. “The stone is real. I gave it to them.”

Thorin froze and, painfully slow, turned his head towards Bilbo. I stood up straighter, the hatred and anger in his eyes startling.

“You… “

“I took it as my share,” Bilbo said, glancing down. The dwarves watched on in shock, glancing at each other.

“You would steal from me?” Thorin’s words were oddly devoid of emotion and I could feel my heart begin to race at the implied threat in his posture.

“Steal from you?” Bilbo laughed mirthlessly. “No. No. I may be a burglar, but I’d like to think I am an honest one. I am willing to let it stand against my claim.”

Thorin sneered again.

“Against your claim?” Thorin returned the mirthless laugh. “Your claim. You have no claim over me, you miserable rat!”

Thorin started forward and Bilbo flinched backwards. I took a few steps towards him, only to be stopped by Gloin, his hand snagging my cloak.

“I was going to give it to you,” Bilbo admitted and I loved the hobbit then for his bravery. “Many times I wanted to. But…”

“But what?” Thorin snarled.

“But you’ve changed, Thorin. The dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on his word! Would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin!”

Thorin shook his head and he once more took a step forward.

“Do not speak to me of loyalty.” His voice was hurt and I swallowed hard, Gloin’s hand still on my arm.

“Throw him from the ramparts!” He bellowed, turning away. I tried to step forward again, but still Gloin held me back.

“Don’t!” I cried out. The dwarves glanced at me and looked around at each other hesitantly. Thorin turned to glance back at us, rage in his eyes.

“Did you not hear me!?” Thorin snagged Fili roughly by the arm only to be shoved away by his nephew harshly.

“I’ll do it myself!” Thorin lunged forward and I cried out again as he snagged Bilbo roughly by the front of his clothes.

“Curse you!” He snarled. Fili jerked forward and snagged Thorin, wrestling with him for Bilbo. “Curse the wizard for forcing you on this company!”

Thorin lurched forward and slammed Bilbo’s back so hard on the ground I flinched. Bilbos face was panicked as Thorin pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

“IF YOU DO NOT WANT MY BURGLAR,” The voice bellowed up around us and I felt myself nearly collapse in relief as I realized Gandalf had arrived. “Then please, do not damage him. Return him to me!”

I watched as Thorin looked up at Gandalf.

“You’re not making a very splendid figure as King under the mountain, are you, Thorin son of Thrain?”

I watched in baited breath as Thorin began to loosen his grip on Bilbo’s shirt. Thorin glanced down at the hobbit, then back to Bard and suddenly his face hardened. My heart leaped into my throat as he slammed Bilbo down once more.

“He dies a traitor’s death!” He snarled. The dwarves all watched on in horror and my heart broke in my chest as I realized what I had to do.

“Thorin! NO!”I screamed. I jerked out of Gloin’s grip and pushed through the dwarves.

“It was me!” Thorin’s head snapped up at me and he frowned.

“I bid Bilbo to give them the stone when you said you would not honor your word.”

Thorin jerked back as if I had struck him.

“Why…” He trailed off and stumbled to his feet. “I would have had you as my QUEEN!”

He threw Bilbo towards me and I lurched as I caught the hobbit.

“Leave!” He snarled, his chest heaving. His eyes bore into me. “Leave and if I ever see your face again, Talya Conner, I will kill you myself.”

Bofur helped Bilbo and I through the dwarves and towards the edge of the gates.

“Go,” He whispered softly, pushing us on ahead. Behind us, Thorin ranted.

Bilbo tossed a rope over the edge of the gates into the water below and he hurriedly helped me step up on the loose rock. I glanced once more at the faces of my friends, the looks of betrayal cutting me to the bone.

Chapter Text

Bilbo and I picked our way carefully through the muddy waters surrounding the gates of Erebor. I could hardly walk straight, the walls of my world crumbling down around my head. I was thankful Bilbo was at my side, guiding me towards the massive army before us.

“In two days time, we will return hence. I suggest you think carefully, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, on what your answer will be.” Thranduil called out as Bilbo and I stumbled into their midst. Gandalf immediately enveloped the both of us in his cloak and I embraced him tightly.

Slowly, Thranduil and Bard turned around and began to make their way back to their camps, the army falling into line behind them.

Not a word was spoken as we walked. I felt empty inside and longed for a place to rest my head. It was barely mid-morning and already I felt as though I had been awake for hours. Gandalf guided Bilbo and I through the elven encampment and towards a huge tent in the center. As I pushed aside the curtain, my eyes met first Bards’, and then Thranduils.

“Ah, it is you,” He said, curling his lip ever so slightly. I watched his eyes flick from my face, to the ring at my neck, then to the garb I wore.

“Seems as though you turned out to be quite a bit more than a whore for the dwarves,” He drawled slowly. I ignored him, walked over to a chair behind the main table, and plopped down in it. He raised his eyebrow ever so slowly at me. I glared back as if daring him to say something.

“I am glad to see you alive, Talya,” Bard said. “We were worried for your safety.”

“I’m fine.” I bit out, though that was far from the truth.

“What are we going to do, Gandalf?” Bilbo asked, glancing up at the wizard. Gandalf frowned and let out a long breath.

“I do not know, Master Baggins. I suppose we wait and see if two days’ time is enough for Thorin to come to his sense.” Thranduil gave a dry laugh.

“A dwarf, come to his senses?” He made a despairing noise in the back of his throat. “Erebor will rot and fall down around his ears ‘ere that happens.”

Disgustedly, I stood up and pushed off from the desk. I went to brush by Bard when he gently caught my arm.

“I truly am glad you are well, Talya.” He said softly. I snorted.

“In what world is this” I motioned around at myself and the army around us, “Well?”

Bard frowned and glanced down, only to notice the dark bruises around my wrist.

“Did he do this?” I didn’t answer and Bard sneered.

“I’ll kill him myself.”

“No, Bard. You won’t.” I answered tiredly. I tugged my arm out of his grasp and left the tent. I walked aimlessly among the elves and men, ignoring the strange looks. Everyone seemed to move out of my path and I didn’t bother to question why.

“Talya,” Gandalf called from behind me. I paused and turned to look up at the wizard. He smiled sadly and, without saying a word, opened his arms to me. I hesitated for a mere second before I walked into his waiting arms and he hugged me tightly.

“I’ve missed you, Gandalf,” I said tiredly. “It’s been so damn hard to know what to do.”

“I know, Talya. I am truly sorry, for everything.” He answered, touching the top of my head gently with his free hand. I stayed in his embrace for a few moments before I finally pulled away, sniffing as I went.

“I’ll have you know, there is someone else who missed you.” Gandalf said finally, this time a true smile crossing his lips. I frowned and shook my head slightly, not knowing who he meant. He gestured with his staff and guided me forward. We reached another large tent and ducked in. Immediately, I was assaulted with the comforting smell of hay and horse.

A snort and nicker reached my ears and I looked up to find Grey-mane standing before me. I let out a long breath and immediately walked up to the big horse and wrapped my arms around his neck. He ducked his head into me and lipped at the cloak I wore and I smiled into his fur.

“How is he here?” I asked, glancing back at the smiling wizard. He raised a fuzzy brow and I rolled my eyes.

“Magic, right?”

“Partially,” He conceded. “But also, Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel send their regards.”

I nodded mutely and stroked Grey-mane’s neck. He dropped his head and rubbed it solidly against my chest.

“I will leave you here with Grey-mane. When you are ready, merely ask and you will be shown to my tent where you may rest your head. No doubt you are weary.”

“Thank you, Gandalf.” I replied. He turned and left me standing in the dimly lit tent. I hugged Grey-mane fiercely and laughed softly when he head-butted me and lipped at my face. I picked up a nearby brush and began to groom him, head to tail, and slowly, I told him everything that happened from Rivendell until now. While I knew that he didn’t quite understand what I was saying, I knew he understood the emotions I felt and he would often pausing to nudge me gently with his nose or to lean against me when I seemed unable to go on. It was oddly therapeutic and, after a few hours with him, I planted a soft kiss on his nose and left.

I stepped outside into the mid-day sun and glanced to the first elf I could find.

“Master elf,” I called softly. He glanced down at me with a mild look of irritation. “If you could please direct me to the way of Mithrandir’s tent, I would be most grateful.”

He paused, seeming to be surprised by my tone, and nodded once. He led me a short distance to a large grey tent. He held aside a flap and I nodded my thanks to him once I stepped inside. Bilbo was already there, sitting on a cot. He looked up at me and offered a small smile.

“How do you fare, Talya?” He asked softly, shifting in place. I walked over and sat down next to him, dropping my head into my hands.

“I couldn’t tell you,” I finally answered. “I feel numb. I’m tired and my stomach hurts and everything is a mess.”

He brought his hand up and rubbed my back slowly.

“I am so sorry, Talya.” His voice was cracked with emotion and I turned to embrace the hobbit. He returned the gesture and for a while, we sat like that, drawing comfort from one another.

I finally pulled away and glanced at the hobbit. He was mud splattered from our trek through the swampy waters outside of Erebor, his hair stuck out in odd angles. I laughed, a sad sound that lacked true feeling, and shook my head.

“Look at the pair of us. Filthy and dirty and stinking. I bet the elves hate it,” Bilbo grinned tiredly at me and he shook his head.

“I must say, I am looking forward to a proper bath,” He admitted. I nodded in agreement and we both sat back.

It didn’t take long for Gandalf to find us. He stepped through the flap of the tent and looked over the both of us.

“There are baths waiting, courtesy of the Elves,” He said, and then could not figure out why Bilbo and I burst out laughing. It really wasn’t that funny, but both Bilbo and I were exhausted and near hysterical after that morning’s emotional roller coaster. We stood up and, after bumping shoulders together, we followed Gandalf outside. Bilbo followed behind a tall blonde elf one way while I followed behind an elleth another.

We walked for a short while before we ducked into yet another tent where a large basin of water was waiting.

“I was told to look at your wrist, my lady,” another elleth said, holding out her long delicate hand to me. Without a word, I dropped my cloak, Thorins’ cloak, and tugged off the shirt I had borrowed from Kili so many days ago. There was a gasp from the elleth that had led me in and I glanced at her in time to see her look away quickly from my shoulder. I rolled my eyes tiredly and offered my injured wrist to the second. She turned it this way and that, rotating it and bending it. I winced a few times, but said nothing

“It is perhaps a sprain, nothing more. It may cause some pain, but it should heal well on its own.” She said, gently returning my hand to my side. I nodded and began to strip the rest of the way, leaving nothing but Thorin’s ring around my neck before climbing into the tepid water. I reached up and removed each bead and clasp from my hair and carefully set them aside before dousing my head under water.

I spent quite a while soaking and washing, having not had the chance to do so in far too long. When my fingers were pruned, I had shaved the essentials, and my hair was washed, I stepped out. One of the female elves offered me a towel and I quickly dried off, the chill of the air causing goosebumps to break out over my flesh.

“Shall I braid your hair, my lady?” She asked. I hesitated, then shook my head.

“No. I think I will attempt it myself, though I thank you for the offer.” She smiled slightly and bowed her head to me. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and instead walked to a small table where clothes were laying. I fingered through them, surprised to find that they were the well-made travelling clothes from Lake Town, then guessed that Bard must have sent them.

I tugged on the garments quickly and picked up a comb. I settled myself into a chair while the elleths began to sweep around, picking up my clothing. I hesitated when Thorin’s cloak was picked up.

“Leave that, please,” I asked, gritting my teeth when I realized that my voice cracked when I said it. The she-elf frowned, then nodded, no doubt wondering why I wanted to keep such a dirty article of clothing when I was already wearing a clean one. She folded it and gingerly offered it to me. I took it and placed it on my lap, running my fingers over it before I blinked away the film of tears that had gathered over my eyes. I began to work the comb through my hair, struggling to get through the knots. One of the elleths paused and came over to me. She smiled, quite a bit warmer than before, and held out her hand. I sighed and handed the comb to her.

“Thanks,” I said softly as she began to slowly comb through the knots and tangles. Then, to my surprise, she began to braid my hair in the same way as I had it, even picking up the beads and clip I had left next to the tub and placing them exactly where they had been before. Her hand was quick and neat. Before long, my hair was finished and I smiled my thanks to her.

I stood up and, clutching Thorin’s cloak tightly to my chest, pushed my way through the flaps after softly thanking the two she-elves. I glanced around momentarily before heading back in the direction I had come. Gandalf was sitting outside of his tent, puffing on his pipe. He looked me over as he blew out a ring of smoke and nodded slowly.

“There now,” He said. “You look much better. Smell better, too, if I dare say so.”

He winked at me and I couldn’t help but smile at the old wizard.

“There is food within. Bilbo has already helped himself and then, bless the dear hobbit, passed out quite soundly on the cot. I daresay you could probably use the rest as well, dear Talya.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m exhausted. I feel as though I could sleep for weeks.”

Gandalf did not reply, just nodded his head towards the tent. I stepped inside to find a small buffet laid at the table in the center and poor Bilbo curled up on the cot, snoring softly. I sat down and picked at the food. I wasn’t particularly hungry, if anything I was nauseous, but I knew that I would need to keep up my strength for the days to come.

“Here, Talya,” I jumped, having been in deep thought. I had not realized that Gandalf had stepped in behind me and I looked up at him. He was holding a small cup in his hand, offering it to me. I took it and glanced down at the steaming contents.

“Its tea, my dear, something to help you sleep.”

I didn’t need any more of an explanation than that. I downed it in one go.

“Go to your rest, Talya. I will be here when you wake.”

I pushed away from the table and made my way over to the second cot, which Gandalf must have called for while I had been bathing. I fell into it bonelessly, curling my body into a near fetal position. I tucked Thorin’s cloak under my head and, before I knew it, I was asleep.

I slept late into the next morning and, when I woke up, all I could smell was Thorin. I shoved his cloak away in painful irritation and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Bilbo nodded his head to me from the table, its surface once more a buffet of foods.

My mind raced through everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. The turmoil combined with the smell of food had me quickly up and out of the tent, retching. Tomorrow would be the battle. Tomorrow would be the day that Thorin, Fili, and Kili were fated to die.

I threw up until my stomach was empty, then rolled to the side and put my head on my arms, my elbows braced on my knees. I didn’t understand how quickly the time had passed. How could it be tomorrow?!

Elves glanced at me in disgust as they passed and I narrowed my eyes. When one tartly commented on the manners of dwarves, I politely told him to go fuck himself. He did not seem to appreciate that and shot me a nasty look as he walked off.

I stood slowly and brushed myself off.

“Are you alright?” Bilbo asked, peeping his head out of the tent. I nodded.

“Fucking peachy,” I grumbled. “My mouth tastes like ass. My arm hurts like a bitch because drunk-me decided it would be a fantastic idea to get a tattoo. I just betrayed the man, excuse me, dwarf that I love and he wants me dead. Oh, and we are about ready to go to war over a fucking rock. I am just stellar.”

Bilbo stared at me and I let out an irritated sigh.

“Sorry, Bilbo. I’m a little grumpy this morning.”

“A little?” His eye brows shot up and I glared at him. He smartly withdrew back into the tent and I grumbled.

“Talya?” I glanced up to find Bard approaching. He stopped just in front of me, awkwardly.

“Uh, Gandalf wanted me to bring you to him. He has something to show you.”

I closed my eyes a moment, then nodded.

“Alright, Bard. Lead on.” I said, flicking my hand dejectedly. He frowned, but turned and began to walk through the crowded camp with me at his heels.

“What happened after you left?” He asked. I shrugged.

“Got to Erebor. Cleaned. Watched Thorin lose his fucking mind. Got shit faced. Got a tattoo. Betrayed my friends. You know. The usual.”

Bard frowned at my casual tone.

“A tattoo?” He sounded surprised and I rolled my eyes.

“Out of everything I just said, a tattoo surprises you?” I asked dryly, glancing at him. He frowned, then shook his head.

“I suppose nothing you do should surprise me.” He said finally. It made me think of Thorin’s words to me and I frowned.

“Dammit!” I snapped. Bard stopped dead and looked at me oddly.

“Everything reminds me of him!” I closed my eyes tightly and pressed my palms against my eyes. Bard remained quiet for a moment.

“It always will,” He finally said. “You will think that you are over him and suddenly, a smell will hit your nose and all you can remember is him. Words spoken will echo in his voice. Even something as simple as a piece of clothing, happened upon at a merchants stall…”

He was quiet and I watched him, a pained expression on his face.

“It never goes away, not truly. But it does get better.” He finished. “I can promise you that.”

We arrived at Thranduil’s grand tent and Bard gave me a very sad smile as he pushed aside the flap for me. I stepped in and the flap closed behind me. Gandalf stood next to Thranduil, a large chest there that had not been the day before.

“Come, Talya,” Gandalf said, motioning me over. “This was sent to you from Elrond.”

I walked over and, stepping widely around Thranduil, I knelt down before the chest and lifted the clasp on it. I tugged open the lid and, inside, found a full set of elven armor, made in the fashion of the elves of Rivendell. I lifted each piece carefully, amazed at the lightness of the material. It was all silvers and deep reds, curved vines and flourishes etched in fine detail over the metal and leather. At the bottom of the chest was a new blade. I hesitantly reached out and tugged the blade free from its sheath. It was much more elaborate than my old blade and I hefted it in my hand, giving it a few practice swings.

“I must send Lord Elrond my thanks,” I said softly. “This is…. Amazing.”

“You know he was glad to do it.” Gandalf replied, setting a hand on my shoulder.

Thranduil watched the scene passively.

“Why does the Lord Elrond have interest in a mortal?” He asked finally, cocking his head ever so slightly to the left. Gandalf glanced at him.

“It must not have escaped your notice, Thranduil-King, that Talya is not ah, normal, shall we say.”

“That, Gandalf, is glaringly obvious.” The Elf-king answered snidely. I glared at him. Gandalf ignored the comment.

“She knows certain things, and that makes her invaluable.”

“Knows certain things…” Thranduil looked at me sharply and I realized that he was replaying everything in his head that I had said to him. I slid my blade back into my sheath and placed it back in the chest before standing in front of him and crossing my arms.

“What, did you think I was full of shit?” I asked with a snort. He frowned at me. “Every once and awhile it’s a good idea to take your head out of your ass and listen for a change.”

To that, he said nothing, and I was surprised that he did not take the bait. He had snapped so easily in Mirkwood and I realized that I had been baiting him on purpose. His treatment of me still rankled deeply and I wanted nothing more than to smack the pretty right off of his face.

Gandalf shook his head at me.

“Why don’t you try on your gear? If you need to make last minute adjustments, it would be wise to do it now.”

“You plan on letting her fight in the battle? Do you really think she will raise her sword against her beloved dwarves?” Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Gandalf.

“Not against the dwarves,” I said softly. “Against the orcs.”

Thranduil glanced down at me abruptly and I realized it had been a test of sorts. No one had said anything about Azogs’ approaching army in my presence and, Thranduil had wanted to know if I really knew of what was to come. He eyed me and suddenly there was a tension that had not been there before. Good. As childish as it was, I hoped I made him nervous.

The elf-king called out for two guards and almost immediately, they entered. He instructed them to bring my chest to Gandalf’s tent and, after I smiled warmly at the wizard and shot a dirty look at Thranduil, I followed after them.

Once my things were dropped off in the tent, I opened the chest once more. Bilbo was nowhere to be seen and I wondered where he had gone to. I shrugged it off and slowly began to tug on the armor. Each piece fit perfectly, from the chest plate down to the thick boots. I caught sight of something then that I had not saw before, wrapped in leather parcel. I picked it up and shook it out. My breath caught in my throat when I realized it was the bracers that the dwarves had made for me in Rivendell.

I caressed them lovingly before I tugged them on. I had not had them since they were confiscated with the rest of my things in Mirkwood. I smiled and flexed my wrists, turning the pieces this way and that, admiring once more the fine work that went into them.

Finally, I reached down and picked up the sword. I tied it off at its place on my left side and slowly, I looked down at myself.

“Talya?” Bard’s voice came from just outside the tent.

“Yeah, come in.” I called out. He pushed through the flaps and stopped dead in front of me, a large parcel in hand.

“You look… fierce.” He said, his eyes flitting to each piece of armor and, finally the sword at my side.

“’And though she be but little, she is fierce.’” I quoted softly. Bard raised an eye brow at me and I shook my head.

“From a play where I am from.” I explained.

“Ah,” He replied. He let out a breath and held out the large parcel to me. I frowned and took it in hand. The shape was very familiar to me and I quickly unwrapped it to find the bow Galadriel had given me. The string was new and there were a few chips in it, but otherwise it was whole and untouched.

“Bard… I gave this to you in payment.” I argued, holding it back out to him.

“And I am giving it back to you, in payment.” He countered. “My children live and Smaug lays dead thanks to you.”

He moved in towards me and gently pushed the bow back at me. I looked down at in wonderingly, reminded of how Andrews and I used to pass that medal back and forth. I smiled.

“Thank you, Bard.”

He smiled at me and for a moment, we stood there awkwardly. There was much left unsaid between us and I felt terribly for all that I had put him through. He finally bowed his head to me and left without another word.

I tugged off my armor and put it back in the chest before putting myself through some basic paces with my new sword, getting used to the feel of it in hand. It had been at it an hour or more when Bilbo finally returned. He, too, was outfitted in new clothes.

“Feeling better from this morning?” He asked, raising an eye brow as he plopped unceremoniously on his cot.

“Marginally,” I answered dryly. I plopped down next to him.

“What are you going to do tomorrow, Talya?” He asked softly. I sighed.

“I don’t know, Bilbo. I’d love to tell you that I have this amazingly well thought out plan that involves me swooping in and saving the day single handedly, but I don’t. Truth is…”

I trailed off and Bilbo looked at me.

“Truth is I’m terrified.” I finished finally. “I don’t know how I’m going to save any of them. And if I do… what then? Thorin..”

My voice broke when I said his name and I pinched the bridge of my nose. I cleared my throat.

“Thorin threatened to kill me if he ever saw me again. Say what you will about him, but he does not make idle threats.”

Bilbo shook his head.

“I think that once he realizes why you did it, he will come to his senses. He loves you, Talya. One does not simply forget that.”

“Maybe he’ll forgive me for that. But will he forgive me for never telling him the whole story? Will everyone else forgive me for not imparting what I knew? For saving them the heart aches that we’ve suffered along the way? I don’t know if I’d forgive me, if I were him.”

Bilbo reached out and touched my shoulder reassuringly.

The rest of the day dragged on as we were served our meals and we finally settled down to sleep. Gandalf had prepared another draught for me to take so that I could sleep dreamlessly and I was thankful. I did not think I could have slept otherwise and if I did, I was terrified of what I’d dream of.

Chapter Text

I was woken up the next morning by Gandalf. He touched my shoulder gently and in an instant I was awake, my heart in my throat. He smiled sadly at me and squeezed my shoulder gently before waking Bilbo. The two of us pulled ourselves wearily out of our beds, barely speak a word.

Before long, an elf had brought a light breakfast of fruits and bread, but neither Bilbo nor I could stomach the thought of food. We sat in silence as we looked out the tent at the rising sun. Bilbo puffed quietly on a pipe he borrowed from Gandalf and I drew my knees up to my chest as the camp broke out into a bustle around us.

“Talya. Bilbo,” Gandalf said as he entered.

“Is it almost time?” I asked quietly, glancing up at the tall wizard. He frowned slightly and nodded his head gradually. I sighed softly and stretched my legs out. I pushed myself up and out of the chair, and made my way to my chest.

“May I come in?” I glanced behind me to find Bard standing at the entrance to the tent.

“Sure,” I said mildly. Gandalf and Bilbo glanced at each other, then Gandalf turned to me.

“We will meet you outside.” He said shortly. I watched them go and turned to face Bard. I looked him over, finding him dressed in a long and thick leather coat, a shirt of mail hanging loosely under it. His sword was strapped at his side, his hair pulled back and knotted behind his head.

“You should not ride out with us today,” He finally said, voice quiet. “Not against the dwarves, and not against the orcs that our way come.”

“I have no choice, Bard.” I shook my head.

“There is always a choice, Talya. You should stay safe in Dale, with the other women and children. No one would hold it against you.”

“You don’t understand Bard. I would hold it against me. I can’t let everyone I care about go up against this army while I stay tucked away.”

Bard looked like he was about to argue, then sighed.

“I am not going to talk you out of this, am I?” He finally asked, defeated. I gave him a wry smile and knelt down by the chest, throwing it open.

“Now you are learning,” I said over my shoulder.

Bard shook his head and walked over to stand next to me. He looked down at the contents of the chest.

“You’ve been outfitted for war,” He commented quietly. I nodded.

“Isn’t that what this is?” I asked rhetorically. He furrowed his brow, then looked at me. He held out a hand.

“Allow me to help you?” He asked sincerely. I fidgeted a moment. While the offer was innocently stated, the gesture smacked me as too intimate. I frowned at him.

“As one soldier to another, Talya. Nothing more.”

“Alright,” I answered. I stood up and Bard began to deftly help me into my armor, tightening the straps much more quickly than I had managed the day before. When finally everything was in place, I slipped the dwarven bracers carefully over my wrists and slowly tied them into place. Bard stepped back and gave me a once over.

“I don’t think I have ever seen a woman dressed so.”

“There is a first time for everything.”

“If you don’t mind me saying so, I think I prefer you in a dress.” There was a small smile on his lips and I frowned at him.

“Why? Because it’s the proper thing for me to wear?” I snapped. The smile turned into a smirk.

“No. Because you have no ass in this.”

I let out a sharp laugh and rolled my eyes at him. He smiled warmly at me and once again I was struck with the fact that I could have loved him if Thorin had not come first. The thought gnawed at me and left me feeling empty and bitter.

Once my sword was strapped tightly to my side and I had both bow and quiver over my back, I turned to face Bard.

Bard handed me my helm and I tucked it under my arm. He pushed back the tent flap.

“Shall we?” He asked, raising an eye brow.

“We shall,” I answered. I walked past him and together, we made our way to where our horses were being held by a couple of men, already tacked up and ready to ride. Bard walked to his white stallion and took the reins from one of the men, then grabbed Grey-manes’ as well and brought the gelding to me.

“Are you going to need help getting up?” He asked, raising an eye brow at me almost teasingly. I glared.

“No,” I grumbled. I tossed my help into his chest and he grabbed it, grinning. I took Grey-manes reins in hand, and swung them up and over his neck. He shifted ever so slightly and tossed his head and I was reminded of my mounting practice outside of the Shire. I laughed then, a surprisingly light sound, and patted Grey-manes neck.

“We’ve come a hell of a long way, huh, boy?” I asked softly. “And still so far to go.”

I gripped the saddle in hand and lifted my foot up into the stirrup. I deftly hauled myself up, swinging my leg over his back as I did so. I settled myself into the seat and adjusted my sword and bow. I tilted my head to look back at Bard who inclined his head towards me.

“Duly impressed, Talya.” He said. He tossed my helm up to me and I caught it easily. I pulled it over my head and tucked my braids back under it so they would stay out of my face.

Bard mounted his horse and we shared a brief, somber look, before we started toward the head of his assembled men. Thranduil was already mounted on the back of his massive elk, dressed in full battle gear. The elves around him stood stock still and I thought, momentarily, that even my old drill sergeants would have been impressed with their form.

Bard and I reached the head of the column of men and a horn sounded. Thranduil started forward, his warriors falling into seamless steps behind him. Though I could not see them, I knew Bilbo and Gandalf were in the crowd somewhere.

The gates of Erebor loomed ahead of us and I felt my stomach tighten as we rode near. I could make out the forms of the dwarves on the ramparts, weapons bared and at the ready. I slowed to a stop just ahead of the column as Bard rode ahead.

“You have been given two days, Thorin, son of Thrain.” Bard called out as he reached Thranduils side. “Give us your answer. Will you have peace? Or war?”

Thorin was glaring down at us all and my heart ached to see his face. I was so glad that I was dressed in the elven armor, glad that it hide me from his view.

As Thorin made to answer, a massive black bird flew to him and landed on the crumbling rock. It chattered and quirked, hoping from one foot to the other. Thorin glanced out to our left, far over the hills and I knew what he was waiting for. It wasn’t long until the sound reached even my ears.

“I will have war.” Thorin called out.

“Damn that pig headed ass!” I cursed, loudly. One of the neighboring soldiers gave me an odd look and I ignored him. I waited, instead, for the approach of Dain’s army. I didn’t have to wait long. The massive spears rose over the hills first, followed by the glistening silver of the dwarven armor. Cheers rose up from the gates of Erebor and I rolled my eyes in frustration.

Thranduil called out a single command, and suddenly the entire army was shifting around to face the new threat. I squeezed my legs around Grey-mane and he began to trot forward. I pulled him to a stop once I could clearly see the scene in front of me.

Dain led his army, riding on a massive boar, its tusks thick and tipped in glistening iron points. “Good morning!” He called out, his voice nearly cheerful. “How are we all?”

The dwarf lord raised his massive war hammer and the army stopped behind him as he trotted the boar forward. He paused on a small outcrop and surveyed the elves and men before him.

“I have a wee proposition, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a few moments of your time.”

He paused and looked over at us, his face earnest.

“Would ya consider…” He paused a moment, then his face split into an angry grimace. “JUST SODDING OFF?! All of you! RIGHT NOW!”

The soldiers of Lake Town murmured and shuffled around me.

“Stand fast!” Bard called out, his horse prancing and pawing at the dirt in front of him. I glanced down over to him before returning my eyes to the angry dwarf in front of us.

“Come now, Lord Dain!” Gandalf called out. I finally spotted the wizard as he pushed his way from the center of our column. He stopped just ahead of us and Dain snapped his head to look at him.

“Gandalf the Grey,” He growled out, disdainfully. Gandalf bowed his head to the dwarf. “Tell this rabble to leave! Or I’ll water the ground with their blood!”

Even from here, I could see Gandalf frown, irritated. He pressed forward again.

“There is no need for war between dwarves, men, and elves! A legion of orcs march on the mountain. Stand your army down!”

“I will not stand down before any elf! Not least, this faithless woodland sprite, who wishes nothing but ill on my people! If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I’ll split his pretty head open! See if he’s still smirking then.”

More cheers from the gates of Erebor and I could feel my patience wearing thin. Thranduil was watching Dain, a self-righteous smirk on his face and Dain was huffing on the top of his pig. I let out a long breath and tried to count to ten.

“He’s clearly mad!” Thranduil yelled out. “Like his cousin.”

“You hear that, lads? We’re on!”

I watched as Dain jerked the head of his mount and I felt something in me snap as he turned away.

“Oh, for fucks sake…” I muttered. I dug my heels into Grey-manes side and he leaped forward, men and elves alike dodging out of our way as we went. I felt the eyes of thousands on my back and I suddenly wondered just what the hell I was doing.

“Lord Dain!” I called out, halting next to Gandalf, Grey-mane tossing his head and snorting. The dwarf lord turned to look down at me and I tugged my helm off and tucked it under my arm once more.

“Oh, and who is this?” He called out, his voice sickly sweet. “Do Men now send their women-folk to talk for them?”

“Lord Dain, please. Listen to Gandalf. There is an…”

“Did you not hear me the first time, wee chippy?” He snapped, interrupting me. I bit the inside of my cheek and literally felt my eye twitch.

“Talya…” Gandalf said, warningly from my side.

“He just called me a prostitute, Gandalf.” The wizard let out a pained sigh.

“Yes,” He answered. “That he did.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“My Lord, if you would please listen to reason…”

“Look, lass. Why don’t you go back to making sandwiches in the kitchens and let us get on with our war?” The assembled dwarves laughed heartily, none louder than Dain himself.

A fucking sandwich joke, in fucking Middle-Earth.

“Oh, for fucks sake!” I snapped out for the second time. Dain leveled a sharp look at me.

“I was going to be polite, but seriously? I am SO god damn tired of all you stubborn ass, butt-hurt mother fuckers.”

Dain opened his mouth to speak, but I pointed a finger at him.

“No. You keep your mouth shut.” I snapped. His mouth worked silently, a look of absolute shock on his face. To his credit, he didn’t say a word.

“Now, if you two jackasses are done comparing dick sizes,” I yelled. “You all are going to listen, and you are going to listen good. There is a massive army of orcs heading in our direction, led by Azog the defiler. As we speak, there are weir-worms digging tunnels under those very hills and soon, we are going to be overrun with orcs and trolls and god knows what else.”

I glanced from Thranduil, up to Thorin, and back to Dain.

“You guys have bad blood between you, yeah I get it. But what’s more important? Your petty grudges? Or facing the real threat to not only you, but all of Middle-Earth?”

Dain grit his teeth.

“You would have us work with elves?” He snapped.

“Don’t take that tone of voice with me, Lord Dain of the Ironhills.” I snapped back. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Thranduil smirk. I turned Grey-mane to face him.

“And don’t you smirk either, you pointy-eared prick. None of you are in the right in this.”

Gandalf let out a sharp breath.

“So? What are you going to do?” I shouted. “Are you going to waste the blood of your people on a grudge until no one is left standing? Or are you going to face Azog, a common enemy, together?”

The ground suddenly rumbled beneath us and I glanced off towards the hills as giant worms erupted from the ground, dirt and rock and debris showering down around them.

“I suggest you decide.” I yelled one last time. Gandalf shook his head at me and hauled himself up behind me on Grey-mane. Together, we rode back to the column of men.

“Did you really tell Lord Dain Ironfoot to shut his mouth?” He asked wearily.

“Yup.”

“And did you really imply that King Thranduil of Mirkwood, and Lord Dain of the Ironhills were… comparing the sizes of their genitalia?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, Talya.” He groaned behind me.

Behind us I could hear the steady march of feet as the enemy army came closer.

“The horns of hell are upon us!” Dain called, finally remembering himself. He kicked his boar into action and the dwarves began to fall in behind him, ready to meet the enemy head on.

Thranduil stayed in place, watching with solemn eyes as the dwarves dug themselves in. Gandalf frowned and slid himself off of Grey-manes back. I tugged his reins to face the elf-king.

“Thranduil, this is madness!” Gandalf called out. Thranduil paused and slowly turned to look at me. We met eyes. For a long moment, we watched each other before finally, he nodded his head once to me.

He pressed his elk forward and called out in elvish. The warriors around us tensed and, suddenly, were in motion, running forward so swiftly I could hardly keep my eyes on them. Grey-mane tossed his head and pulled at the bit in his mouth. I looked down at Gandalf and, next to him, Bilbo, who had finally caught up.

“Bilbo! When the time comes, go with Legolas and Tauriel!” I called out. Bilbo looked confused, considering we had not even seen the two yet, but he nodded his head.

“Where are you going, Talya?” He called out, frowning. I smiled sadly at the hobbit.

“To fight, Bilbo.”

“You can’t!”

“I have to. I have to find a way to save them, Bilbo. ”

“Even if it means death?” He bit out, his voice full of emotion. I nodded, a lump in my throat.

“Even if,”

Tears were in his eyes and I felt my heart go out to him.

“Take care, my friend.” I looked from him to Gandalf.

“Are you going to argue with me?” I asked. The wizard shook his head slowly at me.

“My time for guiding you has come and gone, my dear. You press on now to your own fate.” He offered a misty smile. “May the Valar watch over you, my dear girl.”

He bowed his head lowly to me and I returned the gesture before pressing my helm over my head once more.

I dug my heels into Grey-manes side and once more charged forward.

Chapter Text

I charged ahead with Grey-mane until I finally came even with the Elven Archers. I pulled Grey-mane up short and tugged my bow off of my back. I had nearly three dozen arrows on me and I was determined to use each one to its best effect.

I pulled the first arrow out of my quiver and knocked it to my bow. In time with the elves, I pulled back and let loose. Hundreds of arrows flew through the air to rain hell down on the orcs still approaching. Arrow after arrow, I shot until my hands nearly shook with the effort to draw back my bow. I reached down to find that my quiver was empty and I cursed. I bit my lip and looked ahead of me where the battle raged, man and elf and orc coming together in a deafening clash of weapons and rattle of armor.

I finally dismounted Grey-mane and quickly tied off my bow and quiver to his saddle. I patted his neck.

“Go on, Grey-mane. Find Gandalf and Bilbo.” I pushed him then and smacked his back end lightly. He snorted and sprung ahead, galloping away.

I turned back towards the archers who were all beginning to draw their swords. I pulled my own blade free from its sheath and, when the elves began a slow jog towards the fray, I followed after. The yards between us and the battle shrunk and before I knew it, the sounds of battle were all around me. I tried to think of everything Fili and Balin had taught me about sword-fighting but then remembered the Goblin caves. I took a deep breath and cleared my mind and relied, instead, on pure muscle memory and reflex.

I charged ahead, bring my sword up to meet my first opponent. The orc seemed surprised to see what he must have believed was a very short elf charging him. I got lucky and slashed him across his throat before he managed to even swing his crude blade at me. I didn’t get as lucky the second time around.

I pulled my sword up with two hands and blocked a vicious blow from the next orc, twisting myself away as he swung again. I ducked and swung, blocked and twisted, cut and slashed. When one opponent went down, another one took its place. Everything was a rush of bodies. Elves whirled by me, blades flashing crimson in the sun’s rays and dwarves screamed out in Khuzdul, their battle cries ringing throughout the air. Somewhere to my right, Dain was crushing enemies beneath the feet of his massive stead.

Above us, an ear splitting horn rent the air and I could hear the calls of orcs as they began their march on the city. The temporary distraction had me ducking out of the way last minute, barely managing to escape a blow to the head. The orc snarled in my face as he over stepped himself, having put too much weight behind the swing. I lunged forward with my blade and snuck the tip under a weak point in his armor. His body went rigid as the blade bit deep. His legs buckled and I attempted to tug my blade free, but failed, and ended up crashing to the ground.

Air went out of me in a solid rush and I gasped for oxygen. An orc flew at me and he raised his blade to cut me down. I rolled, grabbed the previous’ orcs blade, and brought it up as hard as I could. My attacker’s arm was severed and a wash of thick blood splattered on me. The orc crashed heavily to the ground and I hefted my blade up and speared him through the neck before quickly grabbing my sword out of the other’s chest. I tested my stolen blade in my left hand, hefted it around, and then lunged back into the fray.

My heart was pounding, my breath coming in short bursts. I could feel the adrenaline rushing through me as I attacked again and again. I could feel sweat pouring off of me, stinging my eyes and dripping into my mouth, the taste of salt and dirt on my tongue.

I lost count of how many orcs I took down. My blades were barely free of one before I was on another. The silver of my elvish blade ran thick with black blood, my armor coated with it.

Ahead of me, I heard a loud snarl, followed by the long and loud squeal of an animal in pain. I snapped my head up in time to watch Dain’s boar throw itself forward, the great pig rolling over on top of Dain as he went. I swung my sword up and knocked aside an orc as I tore forward. Dain was struggling to get up from under the weight of his mount, an orc looming up behind him, the orc’s vicious black blade drawn and at the ready. I threw myself at him, bringing my shoulder down and hitting him at the waist with the full brunt of my weight combined with that of my armor. He grunted loudly, startled, and fell. I rolled as I hit the ground and lashed out with my blade. It caught him in the groin and I watched as a thick arterial spray of blood poured from the wound. I jerked my blade back, stood, and quickly slit his throat.

Dain was finally coming to a stand as I finished and he eyed me warily.

“Just who the hell are you, Lass?” He demanded.

“I am Talya Conner,” I said, chest heaving. “Friend to your kin,”

“Indeed,” He called out, smashing an orc in the chest with his war hammer casually. “And yet you ride with the elves?!”

I swung my elvish blade and blocked the blow of an orc as he swung it at me. I brought up my stolen blade and slashed him brutally across the face. He fell away.

“You are going to seriously need to get over that,” I chided.

“So says you,” He growled. “How do I know you are truly a friend to dwarves when you ride with that ‘pointy-eared prick’?”

I blocked another blow and drove the point of my sword up and under the chin of my attacker. He dropped like a rock and I whirled to stab an orc behind Dain just as he caught one to the left of me with his hammer.

“The fact that I called him a prick should say something!” I snapped. “But if you want an answer, look.”

I tilted my head back and Dain glanced quickly at my throat. He did a double take when he caught sight of Thorin's ring around my throat.

“That is my cousins!” He bit out, shocked.

“No shit,”

We slammed together, back to back, as we fought off the newest round of orcs. We were slowly being pushed back towards the gates of Erebor.

“I was his intended.” I yelled out.

“You’ve got to be shittin me!” Dain called back.

“No, Master Dwarf. I shit you not.” I ducked as he swung back his hammer and crushed the skull of an orc in one blow. I swung and nearly cut off one of his braids as I blocked yet another orc.

“Why was?” He demanded, whirling to face me.

“I used the Arkenstone to try and make peace.”

The look of outrage on Dain’s face would have been funny, had It not been directed at me.

“Look around you, Lord Dain!” I waved my sword at the carnage. “Do you think that you would be able to take on these orcs by yourself?”

I swung the flat of my blade out and caught an orc across the face.

“Stay down, fucker!”

My elvish sword I stabbed through his side. I shoved him away and pulled my blade free.

“Don’t you realize that there is more important things in this world than an age old grudge? If you fought against the elves rather than with them, there would be no one left to defend.”

I swung my blade up again, exhausted, and parried the next blow. For a moment, Dain and I were separated as we fought off our attackers. When we met again next, I had to duck as he once again smashed an orc behind me.

“You’d all be dead, and Erebor would forever remain barren, its treasures left for the taking.” I ended. Dain narrowed his eyes at me and was about to say something when suddenly we were attacked again. I pulled up my blade and managed to slice my attackers arm, but the stolen blade caught in his armor. As he jerked away and, though I let go, I stumbled. I attempted to right myself but just then, an orc slashed at me and caught me across the back. Thank god for armor because otherwise, I would have been cut in two. As it was, the sheer force of it knocked the wind out of me and I fell forward. I hit the ground hard and barely managed to roll over as the orc made to stab at me.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched the blade come at me. I flinched and waited for a blow that never came. Dain’s huge war hammer smashed in the orcs face, blood and thicker things raining down on me. Dain snagged me under my arm and hauled me to my feet.

“Your speech can be as pretty as an elf’s,” He growled in my ear. “But, Mahal’s balls, you swear and fight like one of my kin.”

He grasped my forearm tightly in his.

“I hope we live through this, lass. I feel the need to talk about my cousin about his intended.”

I grinned then and decided that, stubborn, sexist ass or not, I liked Dain.

We pushed away from one another to resume our fight once more. We were just under Erebor now and the orcs began to pull back and reform. I looked around to find that the elves and men were nowhere to be found, having gone to the defense of Dale and its people there. I was standing next to Dain, surrounded by dwarves.

We stood shoulder to shoulder as the newly reformed army gathered before us and began to make their way forward, armored trolls taking their places at the front. I begged and prayed to whoever was listening for the sound I heard next.

A deep and long horn sounded from behind us and the trolls jerked their heads up, looking around in confusion. The orcs pulled up short behind them, snarling and calling out in their harsh tongue.

I turned to watch as the massive golden bell toned and tore through the rubble of the front gate. Rock flew everywhere and even where we stood, we had to duck as stones rained down on us. From within, the shouts of the company echoed and I watched, tears now streaking my face as they poured out of the ruined gate, Thorin in the lead.

I jerked back as the dwarves began to part for their king and ducked between the dwarves around me. I did not want them to see me. I did not know how Thorin would react and I was terrified to find out.

I watched, heart aching, as he passed, no longer wearing his heavy crown or royal garments. The others followed closely behind, weapons raised at the ready.

“TO THE KING!” Dain called out. “TO THE KING!”

All around me the dwarves began to charge forward, following behind their king. Thorin raised his sword and his shield.

“Du Bekâr!”

The call came roaring up around me and I found myself screaming along with the rest. I charged forward and watched as the trolls fell one by one to the remaining archers. A fresh wave of adrenaline pumped through me and I rushed ahead. Heartened by the appearance of their king, the dwarves began to cut a swatch through the attacking orcs.

I fought my way through until I was close enough to keep tabs on the company. I watched with pride as they fought, tearing through the orcs easily. Even Ori was managing admirably and I felt myself grin despite the severity of the situation.

“DAIN!” I heard Thorin call from somewhere off to the left. I glanced over my shoulder to find Thorin grinning amongst the madness at his cousin, and it was a grin that I had very much come to love.

“Thorin! Hold on! I’m coming!” Dain called out. He was cutting down orc after orc in a renewed vigor.

I ducked to avoid a blow and slashed another orc. I slammed against a figure and came face to face with Fili.

“Talya?!” He shouted, surprised. His hesitation almost cost him as an orc brought a blade down near his head. I shoved him on his ass and, in a move I had begun to favor, jerked my sword up and under the orcs throat. I pulled it out and looked down at the startled dwarf.

“You need to be more careful, Fili!” I scolded. I reached down and hauled him up.

“Why in Mahals’ name are you fighting?” He demanded.

“Same reason you are, Fili.” He frowned as he cut down another orc. “How much do you hate me?” I asked, ducking another blow and stabbing another orc.

“I don’t think any of us could, Talya.” He slashed at another attacker and jerked out of the way as its head landed at his feet. He kicked it away.

“Kili told you back at Lake Town. You’ve only ever done what you thought best for us. We trust you.”

I smiled at him warmly, then threw myself to the ground and swept the leg out from under the next orc. Fili brought his blade forward and stabbed it through the chest. I leapt to my feet to avoid being crushed by the falling body.

“Maybe you guys do. I don’t know about the rest.”

“Don’t worry about the rest. They’ll come around.”

I twisted around and he grasped my shoulder in his free hand. We grinned at each other, then shouldered each other roughly.

“Du Bekâr?” I asked. He nodded his head and laughed.

“Du Bekâr!”

We rejoined the fray and once more, I found myself straying towards Thorin and Dain who had finally met up.

“Hey cousin! What took you so long?!” With a casual swing of his hammer, Dain caught an orc in the chest before reaching forward and embracing Thorin.

“I met your intended, Thorin. Hell of a lass.” Thorin’s head jerked up and I had to duck behind an orc as his eyes scanned the field.

“She’s here, fighting?!” He demanded.

“Aye. Hell of a sword arm on her, too.” Dain clasped Thorin on the shoulder. “Theres too many of these buggers, Thorin…”

I found myself caught between two orcs and I had to twist, hard, to the side as they came at me and suddenly, I could no longer hear the two. I frowned, knowing I had to follow Thorin when he left for Ravenhill.

The first orc lunged forward and I managed to knock his blade aside. The second orc brought his blade down by my head and I jerked aside, crying out as his blade glanced off of my shoulder. The first orc swung again and I turned my head swiftly, the very tip of his sword grazed across my cheek. Almost immediately, it began to burn

“FUCKING BASTARDS!” I screamed. As the first orc lunged again, I dodged, snagged his arm and, using his own momentum, whipped him around to slam into the second. The second did not have time to drop his sword as the first came at him and I watched with grim satisfaction as the first was impaled. As the second one attempted to free his blade, I was about to swing when Nori jumped down and sliced across his neck.

“Talya!” He cried out heartily. “I thought I heard you swear!”

He wrapped a quick arm around my shoulder and I laughed.

“You sure are a sight for sore eyes!” He called out with grin.

“So you don’t hate me?” I asked, glancing back for a second before I threw myself to the ground. An orc stumbled over head and I swung my blade up between his legs. Nori winced and let out a loud bark of a laugh.

“Couldn’t hate you, Talya.” He called back. “You’re one of us.”

I nodded my head to him, the sentiment warming my heart.

“I’m going to kill that piece of shit!” I heard Thorin yell. He was mounted on top of a huge ram and I frowned. That was not what he had said in the movie.

“Looks like you rubbed off on him a bit.” Nori grinned and I shook my head.

“Get me to Dwalin,” I called out. He frowned.

“That’s not such a good idea. He still doesn’t really like you.”

“I don’t care, Nori. It’s important.” He nodded and threw himself towards the dwarf who had just snagged a ram of his own.

“DWALIN!” Nori bellowed. He snapped his head up and glanced first at Nori, then at me.

“What is it, Nori? Thorin has called for Kili, Fili and I to follow. We are headed to Ravenhill.”

“Dwalin, you have to take me with you!” I stumbled out in front of the ram and grabbed its reins. It jerked its head. Dwalin frowned down at me.

“I know you don’t like me Dwalin, but I am begging you. All I have ever wanted is to keep them safe. Please let me do that.”

Dwalin frowned, glanced at Nori who was watching him pleadingly, then finally dropped his arm to me. I sighed in relief and snagged it. I hauled myself up behind him.

“Fili! Kili!” I yelled. The two jerked to a stop next to us atop their own rams.

“Talya?!” Kili shouted. I offered a quick wave.

“Fili, bring Nori with you.” I yelled above the din around us. I glanced ahead where Bofur was hacking through his own set of orcs. “Kili, you take Bofur.”

“But Thorin said...” Dwalin started. I shook my head.

“I know, Dwalin. Trust me.” He frowned and Fili and Kili exchanged glances. Nori hopped up behind Fili and we started forward.

“Nori, you keep those two together, and you keep them safe, you hear me?” I called out, my tone near panicked. “Do not split up, no matter what you do! AND STAY AWAY FROM THE MOTHER FUCKING TOWER! IT’S AN AMBUSH”

I had to yell the last bit as Dwalin kicked his ram forward. I clutched tightly at his back and watched as Kili snagged Bofur as he passed.

“How could you know it’s an ambush?” Dwalin snapped, twisting his head ever so slightly to glance back at me.

“Because I know exactly what’s going to happen, Dwalin, and I am trying to keep them alive.”

Dwalin snorted.

“Believe me or not, it’s true.”

“You are mad,” He grumbled. I narrowed my eyes.

“You were born in the year of 2772. Your father was Fundin. Your grandfather was Farin, your uncle Groin, which makes Oin and Gloin your cousins. You know how to play the violin very well, though you would never tell anyone… And you know, you looked a lot more badass when you had a Mohawk, back in the day.” Dwalin froze.

“I know everything, Dwalin, past, present, and future.” I called out. “I swear to you, I will explain if we live through this. But in the meantime, promise me you will not leave Thorins’ side!”

There was a moment’s hesitation as we rode before he finally nodded stiffly.

“Thank you Dwalin. Make sure we stay behind Thorin. I do not want him to see me!”

He said nothing as we smashed through the onslaught of orcs, Fili and Kili with Nori and Bofur charging just ahead of us. Thorin was intent on his charge and, thankfully, did not look back.

Chapter Text

The hill loomed ahead of us and I could make out the crumbling towers ahead of us. My chest tightened as we neared, and the scene of Fili’s death played out in my head as I gazed on the tower.

“Dwalin, let me off up here.” I called out. “I don’t want to be a distraction.”

He glanced behind me and frowned.

“You’ll be a sitting duck out here, Talya.” He argued, the smallest bit of concern coating his words.

“Don’t worry about it, Dwalin. Legolas and Tauriel will be here soon. Go. And please… make sure Kili and Fili stay away from that tower. I don’t care what Thorin says. And don’t leave his side.”

My voice broke and he narrowed his eyes further.

“What do you know?” He asked lowly. I was shaking and I closed my eyes tightly. I wondered if it even mattered at this point that I keep my mouth shut.

“They are supposed to die, Dwalin. All three of them. Azog is supposed to wipe out the direct line of Durin.” I finally said. He looked over his shoulder at me severely, eyes searching. He slowed the ram down.

“I have never trusted you, Talya. I always knew there was something that you were not telling us.” He shook his head. “Now I know that was true.”

“I’m sorry, Dwalin. I wish I could have told you guys… But if I said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing… Then I could have ended up killing all of you.”

“I will not pretend to understand, Talya Conner. But…”

He hesitated.

“I trust you now.”

The words made my chest ache and, as we neared the sharp turn ahead, I readied myself.

“Keep them safe.” I said softly. He nodded his head once and I jumped.

I threw myself to the side and let myself roll down the small hill. I flopped to the ground, groaning. The ride on the back of the ram had been too mellow and I felt myself beginning to crash. I ached all over. My cheek burned and every time I moved my mouth even the slightest, it pulled at the wound. I reached up and gingerly touched it and thanked whoever had been watching over me. Though the cut spanned from under my right temple down towards the tip of my nose, ending an inch above the corner of my mouth, it was shallow.

I slowly rolled myself so that I was sitting. I leaned against a rock and let out a long breath. I wasn’t sure how long it would take for Tauriel and Legolas to show up, but I knew that during the time they were supposed to show up, Fili was supposed to die. I hoped like hell I had done enough to make sure that he and his brother were safe. I agonized over each action, each word until I felt an unbearable ache in my chest. I felt tears threaten for the millionth time, and I wipe them away angrily, forgetting until too late about the cut on my cheek.

“Fuck!” I snapped, jerking my hand away. Fresh blood was on the back of my hand and I let out an irritated huff.

“Who is there?” A male voice demanded, and I glanced up to find Legolas standing next to Tauriel on the bridge. I let out a breath of relief and slowly stood up.

“It’s Talya.” I called out. The two exchanged glances and frowned as I walked up to them.

“Talya?” Tauriel asked, stepping closer. “What in Valar’s name are you doing here?”

I tugged my helmet off, a braid sticking wetly to the inside. I pulled away and it fell into my face. I let out a puff of hair and Tauriel shook her head at me.

“You are in a sorry state, mellon nin.”

“No worse than some. Less so than others.” I said with a shrug. Legolas reached out and gently grabbed my chin to look at him. He turned my head this way and that, looking over the cut on my cheek.

“The Valar must be looking out for you, Lady Conner.” He said softly, dropping his hand. “For such a large wound, it is shallow.”

“Funny, I thought the same thing…”

I trailed off and we all jerked our heads up as screams were heard in the air. Above us, huge winged creatures swooped down and around. Legolas narrowed his eyes and glanced behind him as one of the large bat… things dove after him. He lifted his arm up and snagged the creatures leg as it clasped its talons around his forearm. Tauriel and I watched him be pulled up to the top of the hill.

“Show off,” I muttered softly. Tauriel smiled down at me.

I waited a moment, waited for the sight of Kili to spur Tauriel on, but it did not come and my heart leaped into my throat and I could feel myself dare to hope.

“Come on, Talya!” She called out. I pulled my helm back on and, together we ran, taking the same trail up as Thorin and the others had. We both had our swords out and at the ready as we ran. Tauriel easily pulled ahead of me and I wanted to hate her natural elvish speed and stamina just a little at that point. I was way passed winded, but still I pushed on.

We started to come across the first of the orcs that had begun to swarm Ravenhill. Tauriel’s blade flashed faster than I could ever hope to follow. As she knocked aside orc after orc, I followed behind, dispatching those that she had not dealt a deadly blow. More orcs poured over the battlements and I began to feel the edge of fear creep up in me. I was so tired and swinging my sword was becoming more and more difficult as we went. My left shoulder ached, as did the wrist Thorin had bruised.

I was beginning to lag further and further behind Tauriel. She paused for a moment.

“Talya, come!” She called. I shook my head.

“I can’t,” I took a deep breath.

“Go on ahead. Find Kili and,” I swallowed hard around the sudden lump in my throat. “Fili. Make sure they are safe!”

She hesitated for a moment before nodding and dashing on ahead. I turned sharply and made my way to the right, towards the direction I guessed Bilbo was. When I finally found him, he was hefting huge rocks up into his hands and chucking them solidly at the orcs. He nailed one on the back of the head and went to grab another rock. Bolg whipped around the corner.

“DUCK!” I screamed. Bilbo hesitated, still bent over, and Bolg careened right past him, his head whipping to my direction. He growled loudly at me.

“Oh, fuck.” I muttered with feeling. The son of Azog, while not as tall, nor as built as his father, was still massive. His cold eyes glared down at me as he approached and suddenly, I felt like I could run a marathon.

“Come on, you ugly fuck!” I called out, a hell of a lot braver than I felt. If I could distract him long enough, then maybe, just maybe, Kili would live.

He snarled and charged at me. My eyes widened and I turned to haul ass down the stairs in front of me. Amazingly, I managed to not trip as Bolg thundered down behind me. He was gaining steadily on me and fear spiked through me. Ahead, the steps came to a small platform before turning suddenly to the left. I made a split second decision and, once I reached the platform, skidded to a halt and jumped down. I landed solidly, the jolt traveling up through me, and I pressed myself against the rocks. As I had hoped, Bolg tried to stop too suddenly and went crashing over the edge of the platform.

“Yes!” I hissed out as he slammed solidly to the ground. The thrill of success was short lived, however, because he regained his footing a hell of a lot faster than I would have given him credit for. I paled and he laughed cruelly. I edged myself towards the stairs and he took a few steps forward menacingly. I had no hopes that I could go against him and win. The only reason I had managed to even cut through the orcs as well as I had was the sheer fact that the majority of them were dumb as fuck and had no real skill other than swinging wildly and hoping like hell they hit something. Bolg, however, I knew was a cut above the rest. I swallowed hard.

He growled out something and, though I did not understand him, I hardly needed to. I understood the threat well enough.

With no warning, he charged. I yelped and stood in place for as long as I dared. I dodged at the last possible second and Bolg crashed, hard, into the rocks. He snarled and whipped around to face me. I held my sword out in front of me and braced myself.

Bolg was approaching slowly, a sneer on his face, when suddenly he jerked. A rock thudded to the ground at his feet and we both looked up in surprise to find Bilbo at the top of the steps. He saluted me with a rock before chucking another one down at Bolg.

“USE YOUR RING!” I screamed. Bolg turned his attention to me just in time to catch another rock to the head. Bilbo nodded once to me, just to let me know he heard me, then chucked a third rock. Bolg roared and, while his attention was turned, I ran. Probably like a little bitch.

I skid around a corner, my chest heaving. I coughed and swallowed, trying to suck in enough air to sate my burning lungs.

I lifted my head slowly to the sound of feet dragging and I caught sight of a pack of orcs heading my way. The leader caught sight of me and pointed his sword in my direction, growling out something.

“Aw shit…” I muttered. I turned and began to run again, the orcs following after. I had no idea where I was going at this point and I quickly became lost in the twists and turns of the hall ways.

I turned one last time and skidded to a halt as the path before me stopped and crumbled. I looked down and winced, then glanced back at the eight or so orcs following after me. I shoved my sword into its sheath and let out a sharp breath.

“I’m getting real sick of this shit,” I grumbled. I leapt down to a nearby wall, managing just barely to catch myself on it as fell. I felt my hand snag on a sharp rock and suddenly, my hand was slick with blood and I slipped. I landed on the ground and rolled, glancing up at the orcs above me. They snarled and quickly turned to find a path down to me.

CRASH!

I rolled quickly to my stomach and popped my head up to find a massive armored troll swinging his huge… mace… arm… things at the bottom of a crumbling tower. Legolas was at the top, shooting orcs down. He caught sight of me below with his sharp elf-eyes as well as the impending orcs. He threw his bow over his shoulder and did a swan dive off the tower, pulling a blade free as he fell. He came down, hard, on the trolls head, the blade sinking deeply into its skill. It stumbled and Legolas lunged his weight forward. The troll stumbled and crashed into a nearby tower. It collapsed and I watched him nimbly step off of the troll as it slid, dead, down the cavern.

The orcs that had been following me found their way down to our level. They roared out their battle cry and Legolas immediately launched himself into the fray. I pulled myself to my feet tiredly and pulled my sword free once more. I charged after the orcs, catching one off guard as I slammed my blade through its back. I pulled my sword free and made my way to Legolas. He glanced at me only briefly before the two of us began to dispatch the orcs one by one. Or, in Legolas’s case, two by two.

I dodged a particularly vicious blow that knocked my helmet clean off my head and I fell solidly to the ground. I heard a pair of boots hit the precariously balanced tower behind us and I lifted my head to find Bolg standing there.

“Legolas!” I called. He stabbed the last standing attacker and whipped around to face the monstrous orc. His lip curled in disgust as his eyes met Bolg.

“Stay here,” He called to me. I frowned, but didn’t argue. I watched him quickly step forward. Bolg swung at him and he easily dodged, swinging his own sword at the orc. Bolg dodged, too, and for a moment, the two ducked and parried each other’s blows. Bolg swung his mace overhead and Legolas side stepped it. The mace crashed into the tower and it began to crumble under their feet. Legolas’s eyes widened in shock before the stones under his feet gave way and he fell below.

I stumbled to my feet for the hundredth time and ran forward in time to watch Bolg fall through as well. The two landed solidly on the bottom layer of the tower. They wasted no time in crossing their weapons again. Legolas dodged blow after blow, Bolg’s mace leaving a path of destruction in its wake. Legolas and Bolg began to make their way back towards me and I scrambled backwards, trying not to get in the way. Legolas took the last step on to more solid ground and caught Bolg’s mace with his sword behind his back. He swung his blade free and whirled around, nicking Bolg with his blade. Bolg snapped his teeth at the elf.

The orc swung his mace at Legolas and the elf stumbled. I started forward again, only to freeze as an orc came crashing down behind Bolg. Both Legolas and Bolg glanced backwards in surprise as the ground crumbled under the son of Azog.

I realized what was happening and I shot my eyes up. Thorin was at the edge of the ice and I had to restrain myself from calling out to him. I looked down at Legolas.

“Your sword!” I called out. Legolas frowned, then realized what I meant. He flung the blade artfully and it caught the orc towering over Thorin in the chest.

I was so busy watching Thorin above in concern that I didn’t even think about Bolg. The orc let out a roar as he stumbled after Legolas. Legolas whipped out his knives and once more, the two traded blows. They were a blur of movement until, in a heart stopping moment, Legolas fell into a crevice. Bolg sneered and picked up a hunk of rock and threw it at him.

“LEGOLAS!” I called out. The boulder careened towards the elf and he managed to regain his footing in time to dodge the rock. He began to run as the tower crumbled behind him. He made a final leap just as the last ground fell away and he crashed hard into Bolg. The two sprung apart, Legolas slamming hard to the ground and skittering to the edge. I watched Bolg stumble, but he did not lose his footing. I frowned and realized that somewhere, I had fucked up. Legolas was going to die if I didn’t do something quick.

Bolg stomped towards Legolas who was fighting to regain his grip. I felt a moments of indecision before I ran forward, tugging my sword free as I ran. I tackled the orc, plunging my blade into his side. He howled in pain and I dropped to my feet. I felt a moment of pride as the orc faltered but that was short lived.

With all the strength he possessed, Bolg whipped around and smashed me in the chest with his fist. I went flying and slammed hard against the rock face. I felt something snap and, suddenly, I could hardly breathe. I slumped to the ground and watched dimly as Bolg crashed towards me, holding the gaping hole in his side.

Legolas finally regained his footing and charged at the orc. He pulled out his last short sword and leapt up. In a move very much reminiscent of the one he had made on the troll, he brought the blade down into the top of Bolg’s skull. Legolas kicked off from him and suddenly, the entire tower began to crumble.

Legolas took one look at me and made his way to my side. I tried to move, but it hurt too much to do so.

“Talya,” He said softly. “Don’t move.”

I tried to laugh, but choked on something thick and coppery. I exhaled painfully and felt a wet foam at my lips.

Legolas cursed softly in elvish and began to tug at my armor. The side that had hit the rocks was dented inwards and he finally tugged a small dagger free of his boot and cut the fine leather workings that held the sides together. He tugged it apart and I cried out dully.

“Your ribs are broken,” He said softly. “And I believe a lung is punctured.”

I blinked slowly, my vision growing fuzzy.

“So… tired, Le..golas.” I managed to whisper.

“Hush Talya. Save your strength.” He slowly pulled me so I lay flat and I grit my teeth as my world swam. Grey crept behind my eyes and I felt as though I was drifting.

Legolas looked up at something and he smiled slightly. My ears were ringing and I could not tell what it was that he heard that made him so relieved.

“The Eagles,” His voice was distant. “The Eagles are here…”

Legolas looked down at me, his face pained.

“Do not die, Talya. Thorin will never forgive me.”

“If I am to.. die in exchange for their lives,” I coughed hard and closed my eyes tightly, trying to breath evenly. It hurt to inhale and I could not draw enough breath to keep me from feeling like I was suffocating. “Then I can die at… at peace.”

“Come now, Talya. Open your eyes.”

I tried to do as he asked, but my eye lids were so heavy. Everything felt so heavy. I swallowed thickly, realizing that blood coated my tongue. Legolas squeezed my hand and said something that I could not hear over the buzzing in my ears. I tried to tell him it was fine, that I hardly hurt any more, but I couldn’t make any sounds.

I exhaled and looked up at the elf one last time. I could barely make out his face, his features distorted. I took a strained breath and gave a tired smile.

I exhaled and slowly, blackness crept over my vision.

I exhaled.

And nothing.

Chapter Text

Andrews looked at me and shook her head.

“Tal! You have a crush on him!” She teased. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks and I glared.

“Hes a fictional character, Alicia.” I ground out.

The darkness of the movie theater. The hush of the crowd as first Fili, then Kili fell. The pain in my chest as I watched the light fade from the eyes of the two young warriors. Tears as Thorin took the blade of Azog to his chest. Soft sobs escaping my lips as he died.

Lightning overhead. Water in my mouth. Mud thick on my tongue.

Rifle in the ground. Boots to each side. A helmet laid low. Dog tags glimmering in light.

Lightning overhead. Metallic taste of blood.

“Roads go ever on and on…” My grandfather sang out, his aged irish lilt crooning the words of Tolkien as he moved about the barn.

“Sacrifices will be made before the end…” The voice of Galadriel echoed in my head.

“So you think his defiling days are over do?” The goblin king laughed then, blood dripping from the great gash in his neck.

“…Never been so wrong in all my life…”

“So, Talya. Why did you give our Uncle your necklace?”

“…First one I thought of.”

“..Wish for you to be at my side…”

“Now far ahead the Road has gone/ And I must follow, if I can.” My grandmother, short but fierce, smiled at him.

“And so you see… She already comes between you and kin.” Dwalins voice echoed in my head.

“So, if you polish his sword, can I watch?” I asked brightly. The look of shock on Bard and Fili’s face mirrored perfectly and I laughed until I cried and the tears were crimson on my cheeks.

“No matter what happens… Keep rowing!”

The eye watched me, pupils slitted.

“Nothing left… but your death!” The fire was around me and I burned.

“…skin should crack and peel…”

“Erebor.” Fili said wonderingly. He was walking in front of me, blood dripping thickly down his back. I frowned. “The halls of our fathers.”

“Home,” Kili whispered, a great hole where his heart should have been.

“I would have you as my wife, Talya. As my queen…” Thorin’s bloody lips coughed out. His chest was soaked through, blue eyes fading.

“..You have not gone down there with him. You have not seen the madness in his eyes!” Bilbo accused, only it was Gollum who stared out at me

“Ghivashel…” Thorins voice was rough, his face cruel. His tone was taunting and it tore at my very soul.

“…And if I ever see your face again, Talya Conner… I will kill you myself.”

“Where many paths and errands meet/ And wither then? I cannot say.” My grandfather was a corpse now, dancing with the bones of my grandmother. Her skeletal jaw clacked together in a mockery of a grin.

“To fight, Bilbo.”

“You can’t!”

“I have to. I have to find a way to save them, Bilbo.”

“Even if it means death?” He bit out, his voice full of emotion. I nodded, a lump in my throat.

“Even if,”

“DU BEKAR!” The call came roaring around me and I found myself screaming along with the rest.

“Go on ahead. Find Kili and,” I swallowed hard around the sudden lump in my throat. “Fili. Make sure they are safe!”

Bolg stomped towards Legolas who was fighting to regain his grip. I was plunging my blade into his side. He faltered. Slow motion, he swung and his fist crashed into me.

Lightning flash.

“Stay with me Conner. The medic is on his way.” Alicia said softly. She was pressing her hand into my wounded shoulder, stifling the bleeding there. “Hell of a shot, by the way.”

“Bad time to tell you I was aiming for the orc, then…” Kili frowned and fell away, his eyes closing.

“As the snowflakes cover my fallen brothers/ I will say this last goodbye.” The music played out over the theater and I stayed in my seat, heart aching. Alicia shook her head and tugged me to my feet.

“I’ll never understand you, Tal,” She said with a slight laugh. I didn’t answer, just followed after, my heart shattered in my chest. I passed the movie poster and the aching blue eyes of Thorin met mine.

Oaken branch.

Oaken shield.

I gasped as my eyes snapped open, my chest heaving. I coughed wretchedly, my lungs burning and my ribs aching. I was stiff, so stiff, and every muscle screamed at me in protest. My mind was racing as the last of my nightmare drifted from me and I finally looked around.

I was lying in a soft bed, heavy and fine blankets tucked around me, my head cradled softly on a pillow. Moon light poured through a nearby window and illuminated the dimly lit room. I lifted my head slowly, wincing as my muscles rebelled. The bed was centered in the room, its great carved frame doing little to fill up the grand space. Tables littered with rags and bowls and herbs nestled next to the bed and I licked my dry lips when my eyes caught the sight of a pitcher of water. I thirsted so terribly.

The door creaked open and I jumped. I scrambled to the head of the bed and hunched there like a wounded animal. I did not know where I was. I did not know which Talya Conner I was. Sergeant Conner, the soldier dimly traipsing through life? Or was I Talya, a warrior set to change the fates of those destined to die?

“My dear Talya, I peered through the darkness at the tall figure clad in grey cloaks and my racing throat ached.

“Gandalf?” I asked softly. My voice was rough, graveled.

“Yes. It is I,” He said softly, moving towards me cautiously. I felt myself relax and I slid down, boneless, to the pillow below me. He sat down on a chair next to me.

“What happened?” I asked. “Please, tell me!”

Gandalf raised a hand.

“Talya, be at peace. You need to rest easy. You were injured terribly.”

I shook my head.

“I don’t care, Gandalf.” I could feel myself shaking. “Tell me. Are they all alive? Are they okay?”

He let out a long breath and for a moment, I thought the worst. He leaned forward and took the silver pitcher in hand and poured out a portion into a cup. He passed it to me and bade me drink. I sipped the cool water and slid back into the bed, realizing that I would get no answer until I settled myself down.

“Kili took an arrow to the shoulder and is currently being tended by a very relieved Tauriel. Fili’s leg was broken, but despite that, he has taken great pleasure in tormenting his younger brother. Ori, Dori, Nori, Oin, Gloin, Balin, Bombur and Bifur have all suffered a series of cuts and bruises, but they will all heal well. Bofur suffered a head injury, but is otherwise fine….”

I felt my heart tighten.

“Thorin, too, lives. He has suffered grievous injuries, as have you, but will recover from them.”

I felt a terrible tension fade from my body, but frowned suddenly.

“And Dwalin?” I asked softly.

“Died protecting his king.”

I closed my eyes tightly and let out a long breath.

“You did well, my dear.” Gandalf’s voice was soft and full of emotion. “Do not let the fall of Dwalin haunt you. He went to his death willingly and honorably.”

I opened my eyes slowly and looked at him. Despite his comforting words, his face was sad.

“Bilbo?!”I demanded suddenly, realizing that the dear hobbit had not been mentioned. Gandalf shook his head suddenly, rushing to reassure me.

“Forgive me, Talya. He is well. He’s taken to tending each of you like a mother hen.”

“Then what…?”

Gandalf sighed softly.

“It is not for me to tell you.”

“Gandalf…”

The door creaked open again and my eyes shot up to find someone there I had not expected to see.

Lady Galadriel slipped through the doors and, with a casual flick of her wrist, closed it softly behind her. She glimmered and glistened in a much less extravagant gown than the one she had worn in Rivendell, though it was no less beautiful.

“Lady Galadriel,” I said softly, bowing my head from where I sat. Even with as terrible I felt, her presence eased something in me. She drifted closer, slippered feet gliding along easily on the rug-covered floor. She stopped just behind Gandalf and touched his shoulder easily. The old grey wizard frowned slightly and nodded his head once, a silent question answered by the slight incline of her head.

“Sweet child,” She said softly. She drifted closer and sat down next to me on the bed. She reached out and smoothed a hand over my hair, which was braid-free and hung loose and limp around my face.

“You have done so well.” She smiled kindly at me, but sadly, too. “The heirs of Durin are saved.”

“Then why are you and Gandalf looking at me like that?” I asked, frowning. She shook her head, her golden hair shimmering in the moon light.

“You were injured gravely, Talya.” She started slowly. “If Legolas Thranduilion had not been at your side, you would have perished. It was a very close thing. Three of your ribs were broken, the lowest one puncturing your lung. You suffered much bruising, within and without. You, too, were concussed.”

I looked at her searchingly.

“You were with child, Talya.” She finally said. It was something that I had not expected, and the suddenness of the words hit me hard. I clutched the sheet over my stomach and looked between Gandalf and Galadriel.

“How do you…” I asked severely.

“You bled. Heavily, and no injuries could account for it save one.” She answered. There was a hesitation in her voice, a sorrow. Something she was not telling me.

“What aren’t you saying?” I asked. I was angry and hurt and couldn’t even begin to describe how I felt.

“Talya,” Gandalf started. I shook my head, too quickly.

“Tell me.” I asked, voice breaking. “I deserve to know, dammit!”

Gandalf opened his mouth to argue, but the lady shook her head.

“Perhaps it best if we did not yet speak…” He began to argue.

“She is right, Mithrandir. She deserves to know what it was she sacrificed.”

Galadriel turned solemn eyes on me,

“It was to be the only son ever born to Thorin Oakenshield.” Galadriels voice came sharp, almost bitter, and the tone did not suit her. I jerked away from her, a sharp cry falling from my lips.

“No!” The ache was sharp and insistent within me and I felt an emptiness in me that I had never felt, missing something that I had not even known was there.

“That’s not fair!” I cried out angrily.

“You escaped with your life, Talya Conner, as well as the lives of those you have come to care for. It was a sacrifice…”

“A sacrifice?! Is that what you meant in Rivendell?” I choked out, curling in on myself. “So, what, are you telling me? That if I had not fought…”

“Then you would have born the son of Thorin Oakenshield… The only remaining heir to the direct line of Durin.” Her voice was a whisper.

“That’s not fair!” I snapped out again, bitterly. “Damn them! Damn the Valar!”

A sob ripped from my throat then and Gandalf reached out to touch my shoulder. I looked at him pleadingly.

“How could they ask me to choose, Gandalf?” I asked desperately. “If I had known...”

I let out another sob and Galadriel shook her head sadly.

“Would you have truly stayed behind and sacrificed the lives of three for that of one?” She asked. I closed my eyes tightly and knew the answer. I sniffed violently, my broken and bruised ribs throbbing terribly.

“Does Thorin know?” I asked, voice fragmented. Gandalf nodded slowly.

“Once he and the others fought their way to your side… He took you from Legolas and carried you here himself. There was too much blood for him to not suspect.”

I curled in on myself, fisting the blankets against my stomach and the emptiness within. I cried then. Sobbed and ached and wept, shoulders heaving, until Gandalf pressed a cup into my hand, urging me to drink. I downed the bitter contents with no thought, desperate for some relief from the keen edge of grief welling within me.

Chapter Text

I awoke hours later, drowsy and numb. I wondered vaguely what exactly Gandalf had had me drink and wished I had more. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to escape from this rawness, this pain. I had led Dwalin to die in his king’s place and that thought alone was enough to gnaw at me. The belief that Thorin would still hate me for everything that happened, or come to hate me for everything I had not told him, was a sharp bitterness within my chest. But the thought that I had conceived, and then lost, the only son I would ever carry without ever knowing hurt the worst. I had always wanted a house full of children. Wanted to hear their laughter. Wanted to watch them grow.

There was a hesitant knock on the door and I lifted my head slowly from its place on the pillow and I wondered if I could just ignore it and be alone in my heartache and misery.

“Come in,” I finally rasped out. My throat was raw from my earlier sobs.

Bilbo crept in then, cautious and tentative. He took in my injured form and the brokenness of my spirit and frowned sadly. Within a matter of seconds, the hobbit was at my side, gingerly wrapping his arms around my shoulders. Together we cried out our sorrows and our pain. Of everything we had gone through and survived while so many lay dead.

After a while we pulled away, our burdens lessened if only a little from our shared grief. He patted my hand gently.

“I am so glad you are alive,” He whispered through sniffles. “When we all found you with Legolas…”

He shook his head as he trailed off. I offered a slow nod, knowing what it was they thought. A small part of me wished selfishly that I had died there.

“How long have I been here?” I asked dully, glancing around the walls. Bilbo followed my gaze towards the open window, sun light having replaced the dull moon light of the night before.

“Today would make six days.” He replied. I glanced at him in mild shock, then let out a long shuddering breath.

“We have all taken turns visiting you,” He began. “Thorin did not sleep the first three days we were here. When Gandalf finally urged him to drink a sleeping draught, he slept leaning against the side of your bed. It was only yesterday that he finally left your side. Oin had to beat him ‘round the head with a book to get him to go and bathe. Between you and me, it wasn’t a moment too soon.”

He wrinkled his nose and his eyes twinkled slightly. I let out a soft laugh despite myself, the sound foreign and bitter to my ears.

“I came to check on you. Gandalf told us you woke briefly last night, and I wanted to see for myself that you were truly back among us. No doubt the others will be charging in to see you as well, once Oin allows them. He demanded that they all clean themselves up and see to their hurts once more before they were to come to you. It took Dori, Nori, and Bifur to hold Thorin back.”

I shook my head slowly.

“Has he forgiven me, then?” My voice was hesitant.

“You would not need to ask if you had seen how he held you. How he cupped your face and kissed your head. I have never seen him so tender, nor so broken.”

I closed my eyes tightly and leaned back against my pillow.

“I still have to tell him, tell you all, everything.” I whispered. “Once you hear the whole story…. I do not think you all will find it so easy to forgive me.”

“I think you would be surprised,” He answered. “You have earned your place thrice over, Talya. No matter what is said, I do not think that the love and admiration we all hold for you could be swayed.”

I swallowed thickly and tightened my hand in his.

“No! You have tended my hurts and I have bathed and changed! Now I will see her, dammit, whether you would ‘allow me’ or no!”

My head shot up as Thorin’s angry voice echoed down the hallway. Bilbo glanced up and dropped my hand. He stood and moved to the side, wisely, I would come to find out.

I had a mere moment to prepare myself as the very irritated dwarf threw the door open, wet hair hanging around his face, braids undone, dressed in boots, trousers, and an ill-fitting shirt. His hand paused on the handle as he caught sight of me sitting up against the pillow. His eyes softened and he crossed the distance between us in a few quick steps. He stopped suddenly before me, hesitant. A shuddering breath tore itself from his lips.

“Amrâlimê,” He whispered. I felt tears well in my eyes once more and in an instant, he was at my side, wrapping his thick arms around me and embracing me, careful of my bound ribs. I returned his embrace, burrowing my face into his hair and taking in the scent of him. For the third time in a matter of hours, I felt tears come to my eyes and I sobbed softly into his chest. He pressed his hand gently to the back of my head, pressing me tightly to his chest.

“Oh, my love,” He crooned softly.

He pulled away ever so slightly and caressed my face with his calloused fingers. My eyes ran over his face, drinking in the details I found there. From the top of his dark hair to his proud slopped nose, to his tender blue eyes, to his shorn beard. I settled momentarily on the scabbed cut that ran across his face from the top of his brow down past his lips, which were set in a pained grimace. I reached up and took his hand in my own, pressing it tightly to my cheek.

“I am so sorry, Talya. For everything.” His words broke then, and I knew that he spoke not only of his harsh words, but of what we had, together, lost. I doubt Galadriel had told him the specifics, but to know he, too, mourned for the child we would never hold made my heart reach out to him.

“Can you ever forgive me?” I sniffed hard and closed my eyes at his words.

“I betrayed you,” My voice was nearly inaudible and he shook his head. “And yet you ask for my forgiveness?”

“Nay. You did what you thought you must, and I am loathe to realize that it was my own madness that pushed you to such a deed. There is nothing to forgive you for.”

I clutched his hand tighter to me and slowly let go, pushing it back towards him. He frowned and furrowed his brows.

“Do not say that, not yet.” I said, with more resolve than I would have thought I could have managed. “Not until I tell you everything.”

“Tell me what?”

“Get the others first,” I replied. “I want to tell you guys the truth.”

“I do not understand. What truth?” He was confused and he pulled back away from me, eyes searching me.

“Please, Thorin. Get the rest of the company first. Gandalf too. I do not have it in me to tell my story twice.”

He watched me for a long moment before he nodded slowly. He glanced over his shoulder where Oin and Gloin stood, watching me with small smiles of relief on their faces.

“Gather the company,” Thorin called out.

“Talya… Are you sure you feel up to this..?” Bilbo asked quietly from where he stood near the window. I glanced at him.

“If I do not tell you all now, I fear that I will never again have the courage to do so.”

I leaned back against the pillows and waited as Oin and Gloin gathered the remaining members of the company to my room. It didn’t take as long as I had hoped and I was still fidgeting and fighting to find the right words to say when, one by one, they trickled into the room. Bifur helped Bofur through the door, the latter with a rather large bandage wrapped around his head. Fili hobbled in on a crude pair of crutches, and Kili followed close behind, his left arm in a sling.

They all came to my side and offered words of greeting and relief, glad to see that I was ‘well’, as if I truly could be after everything that had transpired. Gandalf was the last to come in and he slowly closed the door and came to stand next to me, his presence comforting. At least he knew. At least he would not hate me.

I fidgeted still, plucking at the edge of the blanket. I had a hard time meeting their eyes now that they were all assembled. The settled down, most coming to sit on the floor, and I could feel their eyes on me.

“What did you have to tell us, lass, that could be so important as to interrupt your rest?” Balin asked, his voice tired and grieved, and I had a hard time looking at him, the knowledge that I sent his brother to his death. I swallowed hard and Bilbo, bless his heart, passed me a glass of water. I took a sip and held the glass tightly in hand before I finally looked up at them, the dwarves and hobbit who I had come to see as family. I knew I could not bear it if they should come to hate me.

“I’ve hinted to some of you that I had some sort of foresight,” I started slowly. I glanced at Kili, Fili, and Bilbo to start off. The nodded slowly, much to the surprised looks of the others. Thorin sat back with his arms crossed, face serious, though eyes still soft.

“I lied. It wasn’t foresight.” I bit my lip and worried it between my teeth. “Gandalf has made it known that I am not from this world. Where I am from… dwarves don’t even exist, let alone orcs and dragons. Where I am from… this was all a story. One that I had grown up with. One that I had read and, later, watched as a play. I have known, from the moment I stepped into Middle-Earth, everything that should have happened had I not been here.”

“Talya… That is impossible. You must not be feeling well,” Oin chided. “Gandalf, shame on you for allowing this.”

“You must have rattled your head harder than we thought,” Commented Nori. I frowned at him and Bilbo cleared his throat.

“Tell us something you shouldn’t know, Talya.” I smiled at him then, a weary sort that conveyed my gratitude at his faith in me. I looked over the company, then settled my eyes on Thorin.

“You sang a very old song at Bag End. One sung only amongst dwarves.” I started slowly. Gloin humphed.

“You could have found that out from any one of us.”

I did not take my eyes off of Thorin as I began to speak, not quite singing, my voice pitched low.

“Far over the Misty Mountains cold/ To dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away/ere break of day. To find our long forgotten gold. The pines were roaring/ On the height The winds were moaning/ In the night The fire was red/It flaming, spread The trees like torches/ Blazed with light…”

Thorin did not take his eyes off of me as I finished lowly.

“How could you know…?” Kili asked, shocked.

“That proves nothing,” Dori said. I shook my head.

“Thorin, one year before the quest, you met Gandalf in the village of Bree. He was kind enough to discourage a few petty Men from attacking you. There he told you of your fathers’ fate and encouraged you to take up this quest.”

He looked startled and I knew it was not something he had spoken openly to most of the members of the company. I offered him an apologetic and miserable smile.

“In bag end, Dwalin,” I swallowed hard. “Arrived first. Then you, Balin, followed by Fili and Kili. You, Fili, passed of your swords to Bilbo and told him to be careful because you just had them sharpened. You, Kili, he yelled at because you scraped off mud on his mother’s wooden chest. The rest of you knocked at the door and, when Bilbo opened it, you fell in. Except Thorin, who was late. He got lost. Twice.”

I glanced around at their shocked faces.

“You raided his cabinets and sat down to eat. At one point, you, Bofur, chuck a hard-boiled egg at Bombur. You caught it in your mouth surprisingly well,” I nodded to Bombur, then took a sip of my water to the sound of crickets.

“Once you all were done, you, Ori, asked ever so politely what to do with your plate.” I smiled at the young dwarf who blushed at the memory.

“And then you two,” I jerked my head towards Fili and Kili. “Decided to tease our poor Hobbit. How did it go? “’Blunt the knives, bend the forks Smash the bottles and burn the corks Chip the glasses and crack the plates That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates.”

I trailed off and once more ventured a look out at the company. A mixture of shock and disbelief greeted me.

“Believe me now?” Gandalf reached out and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. I glanced up at him and smiled.

For the next several hours, I told them nearly everything that had happened, leaving out only my obvious parts and Bilbo’s ring. I had to stop several times to clear my throat and we paused only once to take time to relieve ourselves. By the time I was closing on the story, my voice was hoarse and I knew I would probably end up losing it.

“And in the end, you three lay dead. You, Thorin, were buried in the heart of Erebor with the Arkenstone on your breast and Orcrist clutched in your hands.”

I finally fell silent, not able to meet their eyes.

“You truly knew everything that was to happen,” Fili said, voice soft and wondering. I nodded my head painfully slow.

“And you did not tell us.” Kili finished. I looked up at him.

“I couldn’t. I did not know if something I said or did would have changed the story. I could have led you all to your deaths if I screwed up. I wanted to tell you all, so many times…”

I trailed off and closed my eyes tightly, afraid to look at Thorin most of all.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered softly. “I could have avoided you all so much heartache if I just told you…”

I heard a soft rustling of cloth, and then the shift of bodies. I looked up slowly to find that Thorin was in front of me, all the dwarves behind him standing and looking at me in wonder.

“You knew everything that was to come, and yet you still risked your life, not knowing if you yourself would live or die. You did not know us then, but still you took it upon yourself to help us.” He said, wonderingly. He glanced at his nephews, jaw tight. “You saved them,”

“And you saved our King.” Balin added, coming up behind Thorin to grasp his shoulder. He looked down at me warmly, tears misted in his eyes.

“Dear Talya, how could you ever think that you would have to apologize?”

Thorin reached forward and took my hand in his, shaking. He pressed his lips to my hand, then dropped to his knee in front of me, pressing my hand to his forehead.

Balin fell in next to him, bringing his fist to his chest and bowing his head low. Slowly but surely, each one of them dropped low, fist to their chest, head bowed to me.

Chapter Text

After the touching display of respect and admiration, Gandalf shooed everyone out of the room so that I could rest and my wounds could be tended. Only Thorin remained and, despite Gandalf’s stern glare, he did not budge.

“I will only leave if Talya asks it of me.” He stated firmly, arms crossed over his broad chest. Gandalf glanced at me.

“Its fine, Gandalf,” I said softly. The wizard let out a sigh.

“Very well… A healer will be in to check you soon, I would think.” He tipped his hat to me and walked out, closing it tightly behind him.

Thorin had not moved from my side once he had stood from his bow. He was watching me with mixed emotions and for a short time, we sat quiet, not knowing what to say, my hand in his. So much had happened between us over the last few days. Hell, over the last few months.

“Where do we go from here?” I asked, voice soft. Thorin turned soft eyes to me, slowly running his thumb over the back of my hand.

“I would have us go home,” He answered, his voice full of longing.

“Home,” The word tasted strange on my tongue.

“Yes,” He tripped over the word and his next came out uncertain. “I have no right to ask you to return with me, Talya. I know this. I have wronged you. I have spoken harsh and unfounded words to you, spit them at you with such venom. Worse still, I shamed myself and laid cruel hands on you…”

“It was not you who laid his hands on me. I was not the Thorin Oakenshield that I know. That I love. I know you would never hurt me like that.” I interrupted. “And we have both said and done things we regret.”

He leaned forward to gently press his lips against my forehead, murmuring something softly and rapidly in Khuzdul. I frowned a little.

“Common tongue, please.” I said. He smiled wryly.

“I asked Mahal what I have done to deserve you.”

“Oh…” The words were so blunt and honest that it shocked me.

“Is the whip-tongued and sharp witted Talya shocked into silence?” He said, voice light, teasing. “The very woman who told my cousin Dain to shut his mouth, who called an elf-king ‘prick’?”

I flushed and mumbled inaudibly. He chuckled then.

“If my people know nothing else of you, it is that you are not to be roused in anger.”

The mention of his people, his subjects, made me frown and I felt worry blossom within me. I didn’t know how I was going to stand by Thorin, King under the Mountain, and be called Queen. When I had accepted his proposal I had not thought this far ahead, not truly. Thorin was supposed to have died, and if he didn’t, I had expected to die in his place.

“What worries you so?” He asked, brows furrowing in concern.

“I am not fit to be anyone’s queen, Thorin. Least of all yours.”

He shook his head slowly, his dark hair, dried now with light curls, brushing over his shoulders.

“Did I not already tell you I wished for no other? You put your life at risk for myself and my nephews, for a quest that was not your own. For a place you had never been, and for a people you had never met. You have shown more courage and strength than the most hardened warrior and more compassion in you than I could ever have thought. If that does not make you worth of being queen, nothing in the world would.”

“I screwed up, though…” I whispered. “I wanted so badly to save you. To save Fili and Kili. And so I sent Dwalin to his death. And our son…”

I closed my eyes tightly, jaw snapping shut. I had not meant to say that part.

“Our… son?” He asked, voice low, questioning. “How could you know…?”

I let out a shaky breath and opened sad eyes to him.

“Lady Galadriel told me in Rivendell that sacrifices would be made.” I said, softly. “She has Seen. And that is what I sacrificed. The only son that would have been born to you. The only chance that you ever had for an heir.”

Thorin’s eyes searched my own, such grief written there that I wondered if this is what would turn him away from me. The knowledge that I had unknowingly killed our child. His only son.

“And for that, too, I am sorry.” I whispered “I can’t even tell you that, had I known, I would have acted different. I would have gladly died to let you all live. I still would.”

His eyes closed then, tightly, and a tear traced down his cheek.

“Do not say such things,” He choked out, voice ragged. He opened glistening blue eyes. “I would that you had not had to bear this pain. This heartache.”

“You are not angry with me?”

Thorin shook his head fiercely.

“I would ask how you could believe such a thing, but I fear I have too often taken out my anger on you,” He sighed. “I am grieved, Talya. For the child we both lost. For the pain that you have gone through. But I can not be angry that you saved my nephews, for they are as sons to me. I have long known Fili to be my heir. And if you think I would have been able to carry on if you fell…”

He shook his head again, more slowly this time.

“After Dwalin breathed his last and Azog lay dead… My first thought was of you. Dain had told me you fought with us in battle. I feared so for your safety, and was so very angry with myself for the way I had spoken to you, the way I had treated you…

“I left Kili, Fili, and Bofur with Nori and Tauriel. Bilbo and I scoured the tower for you once he had spoken of seeing you. The battle was already won by the time Legolas emerged, you in his arms.”

He took in a deep breath.

“Your face was so… bruised. Your armor had been cut away and in naught but a tunic and leggings… you looked so very small. Smaller then than you seem now. There was so much blood,”

He trailed off, and closed his eyes tight against the tears that threatened.

“You were so broken. So still. I thought I had lost you.” His voice crackled and I reached for him then, my heart aching as this dwarf, as this King, bared his soul to me. He pulled me so gently into his arms, as if he would break me.

“I have lost so much in this life,” He uttered, oh so quietly, into my ear. “I could not bear to lose you as well.”

We embraced tightly, then, tears mingling as our cheeks brushed. Thorin pulled himself up onto the bed and stretched himself out next to me on his back. He tugged me carefully so that I was stretched out against his side. I curled into him, head in the crook of his shoulder, arm tucked under my chin, resting lightly on his chest, leg bent and resting on his thigh. He slipped an arm around my shoulders, his free hand coming up to brush his fingers through my hair.

When finally the tears stopped, Thorin began to hum low and deep in his chest. The sound was comforting and between his warmth and the familiar smell of him, I could feel myself finally begin to relax. My body still ached and the hurt within me would never truly go away. But together, maybe we could begin to heal the hurts that had come to plague us so.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before there was a knock on the door. Hesitantly, a female elf entered, eyeing Thorin cautiously. When he did not rebuke her, she came to my side.

‘”It is good to see you awake, my lady.” She said softly. “I am Merileth, and have been tending you since you first came to Mirkwood.”

“Thank you,” I said softly. I pulled away reluctantly from Thorin, who slowly slid off the bed and came to a stand next to me. “You have my gratitude.”

“And mine,” Thorin said suddenly. I looked at him sharply, surprised that he would say such a thing, and to an elf! He did not look my way, however. He was much more interested in what Merileth was doing.

She had begun to gather a bowl and fresh cloths to the table near the bed. She poured water from a pitcher she had brought with her and crushed up fresh herbs into it that she took from the front pocket of her apron.

“Master dwarf,” She said hesitantly. “I need to check her injuries. If you would please step outside….”

He watched her impassively as she trailed off.

“I will not leave my betrothed’s side.” He said simply. She jerked her head up in surprise, the news apparently new to her. She glanced at me questioningly and I nodded my head. In a very un-elvish move, her mouth worked soundlessly, then closed.

“As you will,” She finally managed to say. “Your shirt…”

I nodded and began to tug at the linen garment. I winced, the muscles in my ribs pulling, my left shoulder still very sore. Thorin was quick to reach out and gently helped me bring it over my head. Once it was removed, he absently folded it and placed it next to me on the bed.

Merileth, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, began to unbind my ribs. I flinched as she did so, surprised at just how badly it hurt. It took a moment for her to finally tug the last of the bandage free and I was relieved, mostly for her sake, that my breasts were still hidden under a wrap. I glanced down and paled at the sight I saw there.

The entire right side of my ribcage was a mottled black and purple, the flesh tender and raw in spots where my armor had bitten deep. The bruising spread nearly until my belly button and I felt an ache as my eyes strayed slightly lower, where in a matter of weeks, I would have begun to show.

Thorin reached and smoothed a hand down over my back in a comforting gesture. I leaned back against his touch and closed my eyes, letting out a long breath.

Merileth had me lay back until I was nearly flat. She took a cloth, soaked in warm water and herbs, and pressed it to my bruised ribs. I flinched and waited for the sharpness of the pain, but her hands were gentle and the concoction she had mixed brought a surprising amount of relief to the ache there. She brought up another cloth and began to clean the wound on my cheek.

“I doubt it will scar at all,” She said softly. “I can not say the same for the wound on your palm.”

I frowned and had to think about what she meant. She lifted my left hand and began to unwrap the bandage there. I looked the wound over. From the bottom of my ring finger diagonally down until just below the pad of my thumb was a jagged cut. I vaguely remembered wounding it on a rock when I had jumped down off a pathway to escape orcs.

“You will still have usage of your hand, but I fear you will never retain the same strength or dexterity you did before. The cut was deep and it nearly severed all the muscles there.” She dabbed at the wound dutifully.

“I was always better swinging a sword with my right hand anyways,” I commented dryly.

“To hear my cousin speak, you would think you could wield a sword with both hands with equal effect,” Thorin replied, eye brow raised.

“Where is Dain?” I asked, watching the elleth re-bind my hand and move on to check on a few gashes that I had not even known I had on my legs.

“In Erebor, with the rest of his folk. They have set about clearing the halls and rebuilding so that our people may begin to live there once more.” Thorin’s eyes did not miss a single move the she-elf made. He frowned, watching her tend to each cut and bruise. I realized he looked guilty. I thwacked him lightly on the chest and he looked at me in surprise.

“Knock it off,” I grumbled. “I made the choice to go to battle. You have nothing to feel guilty over.”

“If I had not sent you away, I could have protected you.”

“Do you really think you could have kept me from fighting once I had set my mind to it?” I asked wryly. He looked like he wanted to argue, his jaw working under his beard, then let out a soft ‘humph.’

“I suppose not,” He finally admitted.

“That’s right. I am a soldier, Thorin. I always will be.”

“No simple soldier are you, Talya, to take orders and to come and go at another’s command. You, my love, are a warrior.” He smiled at me then and I melted.

“Dain has come and gone several times, to check on myself and the rest of our company. He trusts the elves not,”

I gave him a look and he had the grace, at least, to look slightly chagrined, then cleared his throat.

“Apparently, there is much talk of a woman amongst my people. A woman in silver and crimson armor, an elven blade in one hand, the black blade of an orc in another, calling out Du Bekar just as fiercely as any dwarf, and charging head long into battle. Askad-abzag, they name you. Shadowbane.”

I felt like Merileth then, my mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

“Shadowbane?” I asked finally.

“Aye.” He said with a small smile playing on his lips. “A bane to orcs and goblins and all those who stick to the darkness and shadows. Many you slew in battle, not least of all the son of Azog.”

I frowned and shook my head.

“No, Legolas killed him.” I argued, flinching as Merileth tied tight a bandage at my shin.

“Legolas did indeed bury a blade in his head. But you skewered his heart with your sword. He was already dead. He just did not have enough sense to know it.”

My mouth opened, then closed again. For the second time that day I was rendered speechless.

Chapter Text

It was done. At long last, Azog the Defiler, bane to his kin, lay dead. He had thought that once the deed was done, that once the pale orc lay dead, that it would bring him a measure of satisfaction, perhaps even a measure of peace. But instead he felt hollow, tired and oh so weary.

Thorin looked down at Dwalin, his friend, his brother in arms, as he lay dying, the sword of Azog having pierced through his chest.

“He is slain, then,” Dwalin managed. The raw pain in his voice ate at Thorin and he reached out to tightly grasp Dwalin’s hand in his.

“Yes, my friend,” Thorin managed, nodding slowly. Dwalin closed his eyes tightly, a groan escaping his lips as he tried once more to speak.

“Talya…”

Her name on his lips made Thorin’s chest constrict agonizingly. How he longed to see her face, to touch her, to hold her. To beg for her forgiveness for all the pain he had wrought on her.

“I was... so wrong. About her.” Dwalin opened his heavy lids, eyes searching for Thorin’s own. The King looked down on his friend and shook his head.

“Do not speak of it now. All is forgiven.” Thorin could see the light in Dwalin’s eyes beginning to fade and it burned him. “I know you have only ever meant well.”

“You must... find her.” Dwalin’s voice was ragged. “She… Rode here. To Ravenhill. With me.”

“What…?” Thorin must have heard wrong. Dain had told him that she was there, fighting, but to realize that she was so near…

“Save her, Thorin. You..” Dwalin let out a hard gasp, a froth of blood lining his lips. Thorin tightened his grip on the dwarf’s hand. “Need her. Saved you.”

“I will find her, Dwalin. Be at peace. There will be healers…” The lie was bitter on his tongue and he found he had not the taste to finish it. Dwalin gave a short indignant bark of laughter.

“There are no healers for me, my brother, my king.” Dwalin looked up at him again. “I go now to the halls of our fathers. Find her, Thorin. If we all… loved as she… this world would be a merrier place.”

Thorin closed his eyes as Dwalin’s voice faltered and the tension in his friend’s body eased then, a deep rattling sound coming from within the warrior’s chest. Thorin cursed the name of Azog as the last breath left Dwalin’s lips.

“Go now, Dwalin, to your eternal rest.” His voice was strained as he settled his friends hand back to his chest.

He pushed himself to stand and, though his body was fatigued and he ached fiercely, he forced himself to a run once more. He did not even know where to begin to search in the carnage and chaos around for the woman who had brought light back into his world. Everywhere, orcs lay dead and dying, or running as the armies of Men, Dwarves, and Elves began to overwhelm. Eagles screeched overhead, but Thorin did not pay any heed.

“Uncle!” His head jerked to the side where he caught sight of his sister-sons, though injured, alive and well. Bofur, Nori, Bilbo, and the she-elf where with them, keeping a keen watch for any remaining trouble. He had no words for the relief he felt that they were still living, and yet the tightness in his chest did not ease.

“Talya, have any of you seen her?” He demanded, voice firm.

“Aye. She rode here with us, on the back of Dwalin’s ram. She forbade us from entering the tower, and bid Nori and Bofur to ride here with us.” Fili answered readily, wincing as he shifted in place, his leg no doubt broken. Thorin narrowed his eyes, remembering clearly how Azog had emerged from the top of the tower, pointing down at him and promising to wipe out the last of the line of Durin. A sharp jolt went through him as he realized what would have happened if Fili and Kili had listened to his command, and had gone to search the tower…

“I saw her run from Bolg,” Bilbo said suddenly. “Though where too, I am afraid I can not say.”

“Dammit,” Thorin muttered darkly, the once foreign word tripping from his tongue all too easily. “Bilbo, to me. The rest of you, stay here!”

Thorin grabbed the sleeve of the hobbit and tugged him quickly in the direction in which he had started off. There was a fine tremor in him now as he searched the landscape. He felt near frantic as he looked for any sign of her.

“Thorin…!” Bilbo’s voice was sudden and so intent on his search was he that Thorin nearly missed the sharp bark that was his name. He turned, frowning, to ask what the matter was of the hobbit when his eyes caught sight of the elf prince, Legolas, a limp form in his arms. His heart constricted in his chest and he felt a sudden cold that had little to do with the chilled air.

“Talya…” The word came unbidden to his lips and suddenly, he was moving. He did not even remember taking his first step when he was suddenly next to her.

Her face was bloodied and bruised, a shallow but long cut running across her cheek. Her hair was matted and thick with mud and worse things. Thorin’s eyes travelled further down and a harsh gasp of air left his lips unbeknownst to him. The right side of her chest was a ruin, the shirt there torn and sticky with blood. She was still, so very still. So broken.

“She yet lives, Master Oakenshield,” Came Legolas’s voice. The sharpish tone in which the elf spoke was ignored as the sheer relief his words brought soothed the sudden and agonizing pain in his heart.

“But we must get her help as soon as possible. I have done what I was able, but I fear she may still fade.”

Thorin nodded mutely, absently. He reached out, heedless of the elf’s closeness, and gently touched her face, brushing away one of the matted and mussed braids. How small she looked here, how weak. He leaned forward and brushed chapped lips tenderly against her forehead.

“Amrâlimê,” The word was all but torn from his throat, his voice ragged. He cared not how weak he sounded then. A sudden fear gripped him that she would die here now, in an elf’s arms. That he would never again listen to the sound of her voice, or of her laughter. That he would never again be able to kiss her, to touch her, to hold her.

“Let me carry her then, elf,” Though the words were sharp, his tone was not. Legolas shifted in front of him and Thorin was grateful to him, for the elf handled her so gently, a respect there that would have surprised Thorin had it been anyone other than Talya.

He took her in his arms then, one arm tucking under her knees, the other under her head, and he once more realized how small she truly was. She had always been full of life, and perhaps that was what made her seem so much bigger. Or perhaps it was the paleness to her now, the deathlike stillness in which she lay that made her seem so much less than she was. The only way Thorin even knew she lived was from the soft and slow beat within her chest as her heart labored on despite all.

Legolas led the way towards Fili, Kili and the others. As they drew near, Thorin caught sight of the rest of the company and a temporary relief washed through him when he realized that they, too all lived. The death of Dwalin laid heavy on his chest, the thought that his friend lay dead in his stead was a like a whip lash, the guilt sharp and insistent. But had had died a warriors death, one that he himself chose. The fact that the same was true of Talya did not matter. If she died, he was not sure if he could live with himself.

He did not speak as he passed the company, merely glancing at them all as he carried her forth. His arms ached but he refused to put her down in case any moment that she breathed would be her last. Slowly but surely, his kin and his burglar fell into step behind him, the two elves bringing up the rear.

Thorin was not sure how long he walked for. His steps were cautious as he picked through the battle field, so painfully aware of every beat of her heart, of every whisper of a groan that passed her lips. He shifted her in his arms and she cried out ever so softly. He flinched at the sound, but recoiled more when he realized that the arm that had been under her knees was wet. His eyes flicked down to her trousers and he realized that where her legs joined was dark with blood. He frowned, confused for mere seconds before a jarring thought hit him and he snapped his head to look first at Bilbo, then to the elf.

Legolas had followed his glance and there was a sorrow there that would have surprised Thorin had the situation been any other. The elf met his eyes and nodded but once to confirm the question that was there and suddenly, the weight in Thorin’s chest became unbearable. With child. Had she even known? If she had, would she ever have told him?

Thoin’s eyes opened to the darkness and he felt the familiar ache in his chest as he woke once more from the nightmare that had haunted him since first he slept after the battle. The sight of Talya wounded and in the pallor of death was slow to leave his mind and he reached out into the darkness to find the sleeping form next to him.

He had rolled over sometime in the night, he realized, and quickly turned back around to face his beloved. He lifted a large hand and ran it lightly down her exposed arm, finding comfort in the warmth there. She lay on her left side, no doubt her right still too tender, her long hair free and curled around her neck and shoulders like a lion’s mane. He shifted closer to her, slowly and gently bringing an arm over her form and holding her tightly to his chest. He burrowed his face in her neck and inhaled deeply of her scent, the knot in his chest from his bitter memories and dreams lessening.

Thorin had never thought to find love. He had spent so many years in bitterness and in anger, thinking only of avenging his family and reclaiming Erebor. He had never given much thought to what would happen beyond that. In his mind he cold admit freely that he had never expected to survive to see the day of his people’s return to Erebor and to find himself now with everything he had ever hoped to accomplish in his grasp… He was surprised at how little it meant to him.

He had his kin. He had his brothers-in-arms. And he had Talya. If he had nothing else in the world, those things would sustain him.

Chapter Text

I woke slowly, my consciousness returning bit by bit. The first thing I always seemed to be aware of was the pain in my ribs as I came to, even just the slight movements I made as I roused causing an uncomfortable ache. The second was that I was not alone.

I was curled on my left side, face pressed lightly into my pillow. A thick and sturdy arm was tucked carefully around my stomach, a warm breath on the nape of my neck. The familiar presence was comforting and I pressed back against Thorin, content just because he was alive and there with me.

“Good morning,” His voice was low and still held the fine edge of sleep.

“’Morning,” I said sleepily. He pulled his arm away enough that I could roll to my back without him brushing my injury. He propped himself up on an elbow and casually brushed my hair away from my face as I faced him.

“You look even more serious than usual,” I commented softly. He gave what appeared to be an apologetic smile.

“It is nothing,” He said, all too casual. I frowned.

“Don’t give me that crap. I know you better than that,” I reached out and ran a hand down his arm and quoted back to him what he had said to me not too long ago. “Nothing you tell me will make me think less of you.”

He let out a soft sight.

“I can not escape my memories,” He finally admitted. “So clearly they haunt me when I dream. I always wake to the memory of you, blood spattered and still in my arms.”

He ran his knuckles lightly over my cheek and I closed my eyes.

“I know you won’t like the idea, but maybe you should take the same stuff Gandalf has been giving me at night. It seems to keep away my nightmares fairly well.”

“I do not need…”

“Thorin,” I interrupted, looking up at his tired eyes and the bags there. “You are exhausted. I can see it. Even if it is just for a night, please consider it.”

I dropped it then, knowing that if I pressed too hard at the matter he would refuse to take the stuff just out of pure stubbornness. I leaned over and kissed him sweetly and he closed his eyes a moment and let out a soft sight as our lips met.

“Thranduil- King has requested audience with us this day,” He said after a moment. “Tell me if you are not up to it and I will tell him he can wait.”

“All too gladly, too, I’ll bet,” I replied dryly. “No. I think it’s best to get it over with. It might do me some good to get off my ass.”

He grunted in reply and began to tug away reluctantly. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself to a stand.

“Though I am loath to leave you, I must go and find myself dress worthy of a King. I will not again come before Thranduil in naught but rags.” There was a sour note to his voice and I frowned.

“You could walk before him completely naked and you still would seem the more kingly of the two.”

He snorted then, a brief and sudden bark of amusement. He titled his head ever so slightly and the serious draw on his face broke momentarily

“Nay, I would not shame even him so.” He said with a very masculine laugh. I furrowed my brows and he shot me a heart-melting grin.

“Surely you remember the attributes of dwarves?” He said, adjusting his trousers around his hips ever so slightly. “As tall and thin as they, I doubt they can boast over-much.”

I scoffed, feeling a slight blush creep up my cheeks.

“So, all dwarves are equally built? And here I thought it was just you.”

He raised an eye brow and walked over to me, his eyes dark all of a sudden.

“I am a son of Kings, Talya, and so I am graced.” He words were light and he leaned forward, knuckles braced on the bed, to press a kiss to my lips.

“Congrats to Fili and Kili,” I muttered once he pulled away, smirking slightly. Thorin shook his head and stood straight.

“I kiss you so and you think of my nephews. Perhaps now I am jealous.” He said dryly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“I have to admit that I did enjoy watching them shirtless in Rivendell. But that was before I saw your greatness.”

“Now you are humoring me.” He grumbled. I reached out and tugged at one of his crossed arms. He dropped it and I pulled him close.

“You are adorable when you are jealous.” I said quietly, kissing his lips once more. He huffed at the sentiment, but leaned into my touch. Slowly, he kneeled onto the bed and came to lean over the top of me, careful to lay his weight on his thick arms. I felt a familiar heat within me as we kissed and I let out a long breath as Thorin nuzzled against my neck, the light prickle of his beard raising goose-bumps on my arms. I reached up to run my fingers through his thick hair and, when he bit down gently at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, I tugged hard. He groaned.

“I have spent years with hard-won self-control,” He whispered into my ear. “But within a few short minutes, you so easily overthrow it.”

I smirked slightly and gave another tug and he let out a harsh breath, hips swinging forward to brush his very obvious arousal against my thigh. I inhaled sharply, then winced at the sudden pain in my chest. Thorin pulled away immediately, frowning deeply.

“Forgive me, love. I should not push you so.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said, sitting up once more. “It’s not like I didn’t encourage you.”

He snorted.

“I fear I need little encouragement when it comes to you.” He admitted quietly. I smiled warmly at his admission, the clichéd butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

There was a knock at the door then and Thorin turned his head to glance that way.

“Enter,” He said, voice deep and still holding a slight husky edge. I squirmed in place, wondering if whoever came in would be able to tell what had just gone on.

The door swung open and there Balin stood, smiling warmly at us.

“Thorin, Talya,” He said, bowing his head to us in greeting. If he noticed the flush on my cheeks or the puffiness of my lips, he did not comment. Thankfully.

“We are expected at Thranduil’s solar within the hour. The Master of Lake Town waits with him.” Thorin’s nose wrinkled ever so slightly in distaste, but surprisingly he did not comment.

“Very well, Balin. Have our things brought here and we will dress as quickly as we are able. At least tell me that we are to break our fast?”

Balin inclined his head slightly.

“Aye,” He replied. “Though what sort of fare it will be remains to be seen.”

Thorin grunted and Balin bowed his head once more and closed the door behind him.

It wasn’t long before clean clothes were brought in by Oin and Ori. Ori smiled sweetly at me and held out fresh clothes in front of me. I looked down and found, much to my relief, trousers, tunic, doublet and belt, very similar to the ones that Thorin had. No dresses, yay!

“Thank you, Ori.” I said, “For both the fine clothes, and for not making me wear a dress.”

He laughed at that.

“The elves were much surprised when I assured them that you would prefer not to wear the silken scraps of fabric they called a gown.”

“Well, that’s elves for you,” I muttered, taking the offered clothes in hand.

“Come, Ori. We shall let them dress and wait without.” Oin called. His eyes twinkled slightly as he glanced between Thorin and I.

“And may I remind you, laddie, that you must make haste if you are to come to the meeting on time.” I flushed at the parting remark and pointedly looked down at the clothes in hand as Ori and Oin left to wait outside.

Thorin made his way to the pile of clothes that Oin had set on a table and slowly began to strip off his clothes. My breath caught in my throat as he tugged off the shirt he had been wearing, shoulders bunching under the fabric as he pulled it over his head. For the first time I was able to see his own mottled bruises and cuts and I frowned slightly, but did not have long to dwell on the sight before he began to unlace his breeches. Mouth suddenly try, I watched the material slide down his sculpted ass and pooled down around his ankles. He stepped free of them and, as if he could feel my eyes on him, he turned to glance at me, a teasing smile adorning his lips, a fire in his eyes.

“And Oin cautioned me not to get distracted,” He said mischievously. My mouth snapped closed and I cleared my throat. Thorin laughed then and it warmed me. He shook his head and dutifully began to tug on the clean clothes, perhaps a little slower and a little more artfully than he would have had he been alone. I scowled and decided it was my turn.

I finally slid out of bed and turned to face the clothes laid out before me. I stretched and made sure to let out an audible groan as I did so. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Thorin turning to face me as he began to tighten his belt around his waist.

I reached down and grabbed the hem of my linen shirt in hand and began to pull it over my head, working slowly not only for Thorin’s benefit, but because the movement was still painful. I pulled my head through the neckline and tossed my hair so it no longer fell in front of my face. I was thankful for the fact that my ribs were still bound because I did not want to see Thorin’s look of guilt again as he looked down at the injuries there. As I pushed another loose strand of hair away from my face, my eyes fell on the black outlines of the tattoo engraved on my arm. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I thought of Dwalin, but, with a fierce determination, I pushed it aside and continued on.

I slowly began to loosen the pants I wore and worked them down over my hips, bending a little more dramatically than necessary, arching my back slightly and raising my ass into the air. I stepped out of the pant legs one at a time, careful to smooth my hands down my legs as I went. A ragged breath escaped the dwarf behind me and I grinned to myself.

I turned then to face him, clad only in the cloth bound to my chest and soft linen undergarments. Thorin was watching me hungrily, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Your point has been made, my lady,” He said finally, voice a little hoarse. “It was cruel of me to tease you so.”

“It’s fine. You’ve just learned a very important lesson is all. Turnabout may be fair play, but pay back is a bitch.” He laughed dryly at that.

“Indeed,” His eyes raked over my nearly naked form and he cleared his throat.

I rolled my eyes and reached out to take the new pants in hand. I slowly tugged them on. The black material hugged my skin comfortably, though not indecently so. I was able to move easily and for that I was glad. I picked up the shirt, surprised that it was short-sleeved, next, the material a steely grey color. I pulled it, too, over my head, and once again winced at the painful motion. The doublet came next and, before I could pick it up, Thorin had taken it in hand and held it out to me. I smiled gratefully and I slipped first one arm in, then the other. It was a very dark blue and matched the one Thorin now wore, the only differences being that mine was a much more feminine cut and the pattern that bordered it, though similar, was unique.

Thorin took the belt in his hand next and came to stand in front of me. Very tenderly, he reached around me, wrapping the belt around my waist and tying it off deftly. He tugged at the doublet, adjusting it so the bottom bloused out just so. Next came the heavy cloak, a mantle of thick silver fur riding around the neck before flaring out into the same steely-grey color of my shirt. As he clasped it around my throat with the finely wrought silvery chain, he brushed his fingers against the material around my neck. He smiled so slightly then I hardly noticed it, and I realized that he was running his fingers against his ring around my neck. I had all but forgotten that it was there in all the commotion.

Thorin’s hand trailed under my chin and he gently grasped it in his hand before leaning and planting a soft kiss on my lips before leading me to sit back on the bed. Once I was seated, he knelt before me and, in a very intimate gesture, ran his hands down from my thigh to my ankle where he slid first one boot, then the other, on. With quick and practiced motions, he laced them up until they ended, just under my knees.

He stood then and bid me to wait. He turned to a wrapped parcel that had been tucked neatly next to my bed and pulled out first my bracers then my elvish blade. The sword he set next to me on the bed, the bracers he took carefully in his hands. He slid them onto my arm, fingers brushing softly against the inside of my wrist as they settled into place. As with the laces, he tied them quickly with practiced motions. He brushed his lips against my knuckles once he was finished.

Thorin’s eyes roamed over me then and he smiled at what he found.

“Truly, you are lovely to behold,” He murmured delicately.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I answered, a wry smirk on my lips. He really was drop-dead gorgeous in his finely cut clothes, the deep blue of his own doublet making his eyes seem particularly fierce.

“May I braid your hair?” He asked. “We have a little time remaining to us.”

The memory of him braiding my hair in Lake Town came to me then and I smiled affectionately at him. He took that as my answer and he once more reached into the parcel that he had tugged my things from. In his hand he held the adornments that had been placed so particularly in my hair. The dexterity and speed in which he worked never ceased to amaze me. So quickly he was able to tie, twist, and braid. It did not take him nearly as long to braid my hair as I would have expected. I found myself unable to look away from him as he worked. Though his face was ever pulled into its serious and stoic mask, I could see the lightness in his eyes, the loving way in which he looked at me.

When finally he was done, I returned the favor. Though my plaits were not nearly so fine as his, when I was done you would have thought that I had done something amazing. He ran his hands over the braids tenderly.

“Never before has any but my close-kin braided my hair,” He said in explanation when he noticed me watching him questioningly. “Somehow the gesture is so much more… intimate when it is you who does it.”

He dropped the braid then and held his hand out to me. I took it and he brought me to a stand.

“Come now. No doubt we are very nearly late,” He pressed a kiss to the back of my hand once more and let go. He walked to the door where Orcrist lay, leaning against the wall, and deftly fixed it into place. I took my own sword and, after running my hand over the new sheath, tied it off to my side.

Thorin swung the door open and held out his hand to me. I quickly made my way to his side and took his hand. He tugged me close to his side and tucked my hand in the crook of his arm. He glanced to Ori and Oin then, who were waiting for us patiently.

“Truly a royal pair you two make, if ever I have seen one,” Oin commented, offering a flourishing bow. Thorin inclined his head and I offered a small smile.

“Thank you, Oin,” I said. The royal comment made me uncomfortable. I had still not come to terms with the whole queen idea.

“Shall we make our way towards the solar, then?” Ori asked, shifting nervously in place. I wondered if he was already anticipating the unpleasantness to follow when Thorin and Thranduil finally met again.

“Yeah, lets get this over with,” I muttered. Thorin nodded at my statement and we started off, Ori and Oin leading us down the long and winding passageways.

It wasn’t long before the passages opened into a large cavernous hall. Torch light glimmered around us brightly, two huge fires lit on either side of two large tables. The need for a short sleeved shirt was obvious when I realized just how warm it was.

The rest of the dwarves and hobbit stood before the table, awaiting our arrival. I looked from one to the next, smiling brightly as I took in their faces. As we neared, Oin and Ori pulled to stand with the rest of our company. Thorin led me up the short steps towards the table were Thranduil sit, Legolas standing behind his shoulder, Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel sitting to one side, Bard and Gandalf on the other.

The company parted as we stepped nearly even with them and, one by one, they bowed their heads and touched their fists to their chests. I did not like the feeling of them bowed before Thorin and I, but I understood that, in such a serious situation, the sentiment was called for. Gandalf’s eyes twinkled as we passed and I swore he was laughing at my discomfort.

Thorin pulled out a chair for me then, immediately to the right of his at the opposite end of Thranduil. I pushed my cloak over my shoulders and out of the way as I sat down, glancing down at those gathered before us.

As soon as Thorin took his seat, the rest of the company went to theirs and for a few minutes, there was much grunting and arguing and pushing as they settled into place. I glanced at Gandalf who was smiling merrily at the whole process, while the line of Thranduils’ mouth was pulled into distaste. When finally the company fell quiet, Thranduil cleared his throat.

“I bid you welcome to my halls, Thorin, son of Thrain, King Under the Mountain.” He stated loudly, his head inclining forward the barest amount. I thought it was a little late for such a polite greeting, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. I glanced at Thorin out of the corner of my eye, who seemed to share my sentiment. His jaw worked slightly under his beard.

“I thank you for your… hospitality, Thranduil-King.” He finally managed to say. If anyone deserved a gold star, it was him. His voice was neutral. Damn near polite. “But I ask that you, too, welcome the future Queen of Erebor.”

I flinched at the words and felt myself shift uncomfortably as the eyes of elves, wizard, and man alike fell to me. When Bard’s eyes met mine, I felt an ache in my chest as his brows furrowed and his mouth fell into a frown. Thranduil shifted in his seat and stared at Thorin.

“I extended my welcome, then, to you as well, Talya Conner, future Queen of Erebor.” The elf king did not even glance in my direction and I could feel the tension between him and Thorin. Thranduil apparently did not appreciate being corrected or schooled in manners.

“It is Talya Conner no longer, I hear,” Gandalf interjected lightly. No doubt he could feel the same tension that I did. “What is it that the dwarves have taken to calling you?”

I shifted awkwardly again. I hated being the center of attention, particularly in a gathering such as this. I glanced at Thorin who merely rose his eye brows in my direction, waiting for me to answer. Dammit.

“Uh,” I started. I cleared my throat. “Shadowbane.”

“Ah, yes. Talya Shadowbane.” Gandalf said, bobbing his head slowly.

“Indeed,” Thranduil leaned back in his chair and his eyes fell to me. For the second time, I felt as though I was having a staring contest.

“Perhaps you have turned out to be a fair bit more than I initially gave you credit for.” Thranduil said casually. Thorin stiffened next to me, seeing insult where there really was none. I recognized that the words Thranduil spoke were probably the closest I would ever get to an apology from him.

“And perhaps you are less of a prick then I initially supposed.” I answered right back. Legolas coughed very suddenly into a fisted hand and I heard a few choked snorts coming from the table next to us, but I ignored them. Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel exchanged long looks between themselves and Gandalf had suddenly busied himself with cleaning out his pipe. Bard pursed his lips tightly, trying not to smirk. Thorin shifted next to me and I could not tell if he was pleased with my candor or not. I didn’t really care. Thranduil may have been a king, but he had, thus far, done very little to earn my respect. His earlier treatment of me still pissed me off to no end.

“Ah, look,” Gandalf said suddenly. “It appears as though breakfast has arrived!”

Thranduil and I finally looked away from each other as elves began to make their way to the table. Large plates of bread, fruits, cheeses, sweet rolls, and various spreads were laid out before us and we all slowly began to fill our plates. The tension in the room by now was so awkward I could have cut it in two with my blade. I took a sip of a rather sweet concoction and leaned back in my chair.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat for the hundredth time. “Shall we get down to business?”

The eyes of three elves, a dwarf, a man, and a wizard were on me once more. I did not fidget this time, but look between Thranduil, Elrond, and Galadriel.

“There are many tidings that must be spoken of,” Lady Galadriel said slowly. There was still a sorrow in her eyes when she looked at me and I had to work at not flinching when my mind, too, turned to my recent loss.

“And there are debts to settle,” Bard added on, glancing at Thorin. Thranduil raised a hand and elves stepped forward to begin clearing the table. It wasn’t long before everything was removed save for a large pitcher of the sweet wine we had been drinking. Thorin bid the rest of the company farewell as they all stood and began to make their way back to their rooms.

Once the room had cleared out, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and Gandalf began to speak of all that had happened at Dol Guldur. I felt my attention wander as words were spoken, the scenes from the movies playing out in my mind.

“And so, he was banished from Dol Guldor.” Lord Elrond finished, the words falling with distaste from his mouth.

“And to what end?” Thranduil asked, finger tips tented and touching before him, elbows resting on the arm rests of his finely carved chair.

“He’ll go to Mordor,” I said softly. “And from there he’ll continue to wreak havoc, much as he has always done.”

Their eyes snapped back at me and I sighed, a headache starting to form in my temples.

“Don’t act all surprised,” I grumbled. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t know by now I have knowledge of shit I shouldn’t.” I winced the second the words left my mouth. There was a reason I had never gone into politics, or had become an officer in the military. I didn’t have the patience.

“Then can you tell us what is to come?” Thranduil asked, a fine brow raised high. I thought about the future and frowned when I realized how fuzzy it was. I opened my mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

“That would not be wise,” Lord Elrond answered before I could speak. “Who knows what our actions could bring should we know beforehand what is to come.”

“Forgive me if I sound rude, or perhaps ignorant,” Bard said, leaning away from the table. “But how is anything she tells us different from the Lady Galadriel’s council?”

Lady Galadriel glanced over at me, then to Bard.

“I only possess the foresight to look into the future and see what may be based on a given course of action. The Valar have given me such a gift in order to better serve those in Middle Earth and give council to change what may become, for better or worse. Talya…”

“Knows way too much shit about the outcome of said actions.” I pressed a palm into my eye and rubbed at it irritably. “It’s a moot point. I don’t have the wisdom to go about telling people their ends without possibly fu…. messing everything up. So my mouth stays shut.”

I didn’t add that it was also a moot point because I was having a very hard time remembering anything beyond a few very brief details. Thorin reached over and took my left hand in his, squeezing it lightly. He had stayed mostly silent through the discussion.

“Then the matter shall rest,” Lord Elrond said, waving a hand.

“And now on to debts,” Bard added.

“It has been a long morning already,” Gandalf piped up. “Perhaps it would be best if we took a break and met up once we are refreshed.”

“No,” Thranduil answered. “It will be taken up now.”

Thranduil glared at Thorin, and Thorin glared right back. I rolled my eyes and leaned back against my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

For the two hours, there were so many arguments about who was owed what even Lady Galadriel looked tired. I wasn’t even entirely sure why she and Lord Elrond stayed for the discussion, since neither one wanted to claim a damn thing, but I realized it was probably just to attempt to keep the peace between the thick headed elf, man, and dwarf.

“Alright, alright. Enough.” I finally snapped out, my head now pounding painfully. Thranduil glared at me reproachfully and Bard’s eyes narrowed in my direction. Thorin sat back finally, looking to me with a raised brow.

“You guys can argue until the freakin cows come home, and nothing will get done.” I sat up and leaned an arm against the table.

“So you know what? I’m going to settle this.” I pointed at Thranduil.

“First of all, stop acting like you are the injured party in all this. Yeah, you came to the rescue with your warriors and helped save the day. But if you didn’t do it then, you would have had to eventually anyways. If you think that Azog and his army would have stopped at Erebor, then you would be seriously mistaken. So, yay, brownie points to you for realizing it is wiser to fight with help rather than face the enemy alone, but stop lording it over all of our heads.”

I turned to Thorin.

“And I get that you are still sore that he didn’t come to your aid when Smaug attacked, but realize that he, too, is a king and therefore must look out for his people the best he is able. Rushing after Smaug into that mountain would have done nothing but gotten a whole hell of a lot of people killed.”

Thorin did not speak, merely watched me mutely.

“And so, to show that all is well between you guys,” I looked between dwarf and elf. “Thranduil, you are going to offer to start trading with the dwarves of Erebor as you did in the days of old. Right now, we are hardly fit to go through winter without provisions. Thorin, in a gesture of good will, you will be giving Thranduil the white jewels of Eryn Lasgalen.”

Both kings opened their mouths to protest and I held up a weary hand.

“Stop and think for two seconds. Is anything I just said really so freakin terrible? Trading would benefit all, and it would not kill you, Thorin, to give up a single freakin necklace to him.”

Thorin grumbled and grit his teeth.

“The jewels will be yours,” He finally growled out. Thranduil narrowed his eyes.

“I suppose we are provisioned well enough that we can spare what is needed to feed your people,” Thranduil admitted with a curl of his lip.

“Thank god.” I muttered. I looked down at Bard. “And Bard, my friend… There is little I can offer that will make up for the deaths and losses your people sustained. Winter will be here soon and you have no place to stay that will afford you shelter. And so I extend the hospitality of the dwarves to you.”

I glanced at Thorin, who was watching me carefully. He nodded his head once in agreement.

“Once warmer weather prevails, we will help you rebuild Lake Town as well as Dale, at no cost to you.”

Thorin glanced at me sharply and for a brief second the greedy and prideful nature of his kin took hold.

“That is an expensive endeavor, Talya.” He growled, almost warningly. I glared at him.

“One share of a hundred would still be more than enough to rebuild both towns,” I snapped. “And yet the treasure is split into one-fifteenths. If it is truly such a hardship for you to give up even a small portion to help out these people, then you haven’t learned a damned thing.”

I glanced at Bard, then back at Thorin.

“If the contract still stands, use my share. Gold and treasures mean nothing to me.”

Thorin looked surprised at this and he shifted in his seat. He said nothing for a long moment before he finally let out a short breath.

“I, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, give my word to you, Master Bard of Lake Town, that my people will rebuild for you Lake Town and Dale, at no cost to you.” The words seemed to physically hurt for him to say and I reached out and touched his arm, offering him a grateful smile. There was a long pause as everyone looked amongst themselves. Gandalf was smiling grandly at me and even Lord Elrond looked moderately impressed.

“We all good, now?” I groused, glancing once more between elf, man and dwarf. “Do we need to sign a contract? Do a spit-shake? What?”

Thranduil frowned deeply at me then glanced back at Legolas, who had come and gone now a few times. Legolas glanced at his father and I realized that he was very much angry with Thranduil still over the treatment of Tauriel and, perhaps, even the dwarves. Legolas nodded once and left again.

“A contract will be drawn.” Thranduil answered, his stern gaze having lingered on the retreating back of his son. He sighed then and looked very tired. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“Good. Can we all go now?” I asked. My head was pounding and my ass was sore from sitting in the same spot for entirely too long. I had the pressing urge to pee, too, and that was not helping matters.

Thranduil waved a dismissive hand and slowly, but surely, we all began to push back from our chairs. Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel began to talk with the elf-king, and Gandalf came to Thorin’s side to speak with him. It left Bard and I standing alone.

“You were not lying about the tattoo,” He said finally, glancing at the sharp dwarvish designs on my arm.

“Nope,” I said softly. I hated standing there next to him with so much tension having passed between us.

“You said ‘our people’ several times when referring to the dwarves,” He commented, eyes meeting mine. I had not realized it, but now that I thought back, I suppose I had.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” I answered vaguely. I adjusted my cloak needlessly.

“You are truly going to stay at his side?” Bard asked finally, his eyes flicking over my shoulder where Thorin stood.

“Yes.” My answer was short and succinct. He frowned at that and shook his head. His eyes dropped down briefly and he reached out to grasp my shoulder lightly.

“If you ever grow tired of your dwarf-king and your halls of stone, you know where I am.” He finally said, voice soft. It hurt to hear him speak like that and I grasped his hand gently in mine.

“For what it’s worth, Bard… I’m sorry. If things were different…” I trailed off and he offered a brief smile.

“They are not, and there is no use speaking of what might be.” He replied. He squeezed my hand gently and behind me, a voice was cleared. I glanced back to see Thorin standing there, arms crossed, face his usual indifferent mask. His eyes, though, told a different story. He was jealous and trying so hard not to show it. I turned back to Bard, whose own eyes glinted mischievously. He took my hand in his and pressed a lingering kiss to my hand. Thorin grumbled behind me and was suddenly standing next to me, arm wrapped possessively around my waist.

“You do not deserve her,” Bard commented to Thorin, dropping my hand gently. He stared down at the dwarf with hard eyes.

“I know,” Came Thorin’s serious reply.

“Keep that in mind, then, dwarf, and know that if you ever cause her harm, intended or no, there will be hell to pay.”

“No doubt,” Thorin snorted then added wryly, “I hope I offend you not when I say that I fear less of what you will do to me than what she would.”

“Then you are a smarter dwarf than I would have given you credit for.” Bard bit back. I looked between the two and shook my head. Males.

Chapter Text

We finally made it back to the rooms and I immediately took my sword from its place at my side and made my way to the bed where I flopped, face first, into the softness of the mattress. I let out a very unattractive grunt as the air left my lungs, but made no move to adjust myself other than to turn my head and spit out a mouthful of hair.

“You pushed yourself too hard,” Thorin scolded, gently. He sat next to me on the bed and I peered up at him. I rolled over, scrunching my face as I did so.

“I didn’t do anything other than sit in that uncomfortable chair for entirely too long.” I grumbled. I propped myself up on my elbows and let out a long sigh.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you guys.” I started, then paused. “Well, no. I’m not particularly sorry that I snapped at Thranduil. But I do apologize for speaking out when I had no business doing so.”

Thorin’s lip quirked ever so slightly when I amended my statement, but then he shook his head.

“I am not sure when the cows come home, Talya, but I do believe that it would have taken far longer than a simple afternoon for us to finally come to any sort of agreement. While I do not… appreciate having to give up anything to that ‘pointy-eared prick’,” He glanced at me wryly as he said that and I couldn’t help but grin a little. “I must admit that you settled the matter admirably.”

I shrugged then.

“I was never much for politics,” I admitted. “But I really hate all the dancing around everyone does. No one is ever willing to compromise on anything and you guys are all too damn stubborn to give even an inch.”

“You are a shrewd negotiator, truly. There is nothing that you offered that I would not give, despite my misgivings. Not only that, but you have secured provisions for our people and have assured good will between us and Master Bards’ people.”

He smiled warmly at me then, his tone slightly teasing.

“Perhaps I will have you sit council in my stead if you always handle business so thoroughly.”

I gave him a mock-glare.

“You aren’t funny,” I grumbled. I reached up and undid the clasp of my cloak. I let it fall away before making my way further up the bed and dropping my head unceremoniously to the pillow. Thorin moved to stand and tugged the covers up and around me.

“Rest your head,” He said softly, brushing his lips over my brow. “I will go now to speak with Balin and the rest to discuss the meeting. We have many plans to make ere we return home.”

“When will we be going back?” I asked, eyes closed now.

“I have been assured that you will be well to travel in another week.” I popped my eyes open and turned my head to look at him.

“You guys have been staying behind just for me?” I asked. He offered a slight shrug.

“In part, yes. Do not forget that Fili has a broken leg. He is prideful and would not take kindly to riding the back of a wagon on his return home.”

“Two weeks is hardly enough time for his leg to heal.” I argued. Thorin shook his head at me.

“You have travelled with us for months now and have yet to realize that we do not heal as slowly as your race?” He asked. I frowned then and tried to think back to a time where one of them was really badly injured. Kili immediately came to mind and I realized that, despite how horribly infected his leg had gotten, he had been up and ready for battle with nary a limp. Even the nasty gash across Thorin’s face had already begun to fade and I didn’t not know how I didn’t notice it before.

“Bastards,” I mumbled. “And here I am with busted ribs that are going to take weeks to heal.”

Thorin chuckled at that and opened the door.

“Rest, Talya. I will be back soon,” With that, he closed the door behind him and I closed my eyes, still grumbling to myself.

The next several days passed unbearably slow. I spent most of my time in my rooms, resting and relaxing. It was not something I really appreciated doing but Merileth reminded me that I was healing not only from battle wounds, but from nearly bleeding to death. While she did not directly mention the miscarriage, I understood well enough and stopped arguing, a painful knot forming in my chest.

I had withdrawn myself from everyone once again and while I acted outwardly in a light-hearted manner, I could feel a sort of depression fall on me. Thorin had noticed my change of mood, but I brushed it off as just being tired and in pain. I wasn’t sure if he really believed me, but he was so busy making preparations for leaving and mapping out the details of our deal with Bard that he was often not around. The others were usually helping him with this detail or that, and so, with the exception of Bilbo and Gandalf, I did not usually have much company.

Bilbo and Gandalf were with me that afternoon, puffing easily on their pipes and making light comments on this type of pipe weed or that. They often argued teasingly over one another’s taste and, at the very least, it made me smile slightly and shake my head. I did not comment, finding the stuff dreadful no matter the brand.

There was a commotion in the hall way, then, and I glanced up from my spot in bed. Gandalf puffed out a particularly large ring that floated up merrily and joined the rest, forming an intricate figure eight with another ring that he had puffed out moments before.

“Ah,” He said. “That must be Dain,”

“What’s he doing back?” I asked, glancing from the door to the wizard.

“No doubt to check once more that his cousin and kin remain free of the dungeons,” Gandalf answered sardonically. He put out his pipe and upended it over a small ash-tray. He then stood and tucked the pipe within his robe.

“Last time he was here, he nearly got into a fist fight with an elf,” Bilbo volunteered. “He had drank a bit too much and mistook a male elf for an elleth. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the looks on either of their faces when Dain grabbed his bottom.”

I laughed out loud at that, imagining the absolute shock on the elf’s face, and the disgust on Dain’s when he realized the elf was not a she. Gandalf chuckled along with me.

“Come, then. Dress yourself and we will make our way to the common rooms the dwarves have been given for such occasions.”

Gandalf and Bilbo went outside my room and waited for me to change.

I slowly pushed myself out of bed. I had been wearing the linen bed clothes the elves had given me for a few days now, not bothering to dress myself in much else since I hadn’t gone anywhere. I slowly began to change, glad that I had bathed that morning. It had felt nice to soak in a hot tub of water instead of using a small basin and cloth to wash myself. I had even been surprised to find that my ribs were healing well, no doubt the aid of the elves allowing for nearly a months’ worth of healing to happen in a matter of two weeks.

I dressed in the same clothes as I had at the meeting, having worn them only once and not having much in the way of options. No doubt it would be just as warm in the common room as it had in the solar, so I definitely did not want to wear the long-sleeved shirts and thick vests I had been given for when we travelled.

When finally I had donned the last scrap of cloth, tugged my boots on, and strapped my sword once more to my side, I stepped out my door and, together with Gandalf and Bilbo, headed towards the commotion down the hall.

“Dain has been quite eager to meet with you again,” Bilbo said as we walked. “He’s been telling stories of what he had seen of you in battle.”

“Yeah?” I asked, glancing at the hobbit who seemed quite amused. “No more comments about sandwich making, then?”

“If he was a reasonable dwarf, he would be hesitant to ever speak anything but kind words about you,” Bilbo started. “But, as Gandalf made mention… of the two, Thorin is truly the more reasonable.”

“Yeah? What’s he saying now?”

Bilbo blushed furiously and I felt myself grin a little.

“That bad?”

“He.. ah… made a few comments,” Bilbo sputtered. “Alluding to your prowess in other fields.”

“Wha…?” I asked, then choked out a laugh. “Hes been wondering what I’m like in bed?!”

Bilbo sputtered again and blushed crimson. Gandalf shook his head and pretended to ignore our conversation.

“I’ll bet Thorin loved that. What did he do, glare and grumble? Or did he blush furiously and pretend like he didn’t hear Dain?”

“Neither,” Gandalf surprised me by answering. A smile played at his lips. “He commented something along the lines of you being an equally fierce sparring partner, though I highly doubt sparring is quite what he meant.”

My mouth dropped and I flushed.

“He did not!” I let out a puff of breath. “What happened to him being all stoic and broody?”

“You,” Gandalf said, glancing at me out of the corner of his eyes. I huffed then, but had no answer.

We continued on, the din of voices growing louder. We finally passed through a large set of doors and into a fairly large space, lit brightly and, as I assumed before, quite warm between the number of bodies present and the grand fire lit. I looked over the occupants, my eyes finding quite a number of new dwarves I had never seen before. In the center of the room stood Thorin and Dain, forearms clasped in each other’s’ hands.

“Ah, there you are, Talya!” Nori called brightly. He made his way over to me then stopped, offered a dramatic bow, and offered me his hand.

“My I escort my Queen to the King’s side?” He asked, lips quirked in a teasing smile.

“Oh shut up,” I grumbled darkly. He let out a laugh as I took his hand and he tugged my along, parting the way of the dwarves before him as we came to stand by Thorin.

Thorin eyes’ fell to me and he gave me a heart-melting smile that warmed me from the inside out. He took my hand from Nori and cleared his throat. The room quieted and he glanced around for a moment before he looked at Dain.

“This is the one who you have named Shadowbane,” He said, loudly. “Talya Conner. A fierce warrior of Men. A true friend of dwarves. And my intended.”

I tried not to flush as every last dwarf in the room, which must have been at least four dozen, turned to gaze at me. And I thought being stared at by the elves was bad.

“Talya Shadowbane,” Dain called out with a hearty bark. “And so, we meet again.”

“Hail, Lord Dain of the Ironhills,” I answered, my voice much steadier then I felt. I dipped my head to him politely and he shook his head.

“If my cousin speaks true, I suppose I ought to be bowing to you, the future Queen of Erebor.” He said, throwing a grin at Thorin. “You are much smaller without all that armor, you know.”

“Yeah and you are much shorter without those massive boots you were wearing.” I threw back.

“Shorter in height, perhaps. But ask any dwarrowdam and you will know I am not short where it matters.” He comment right back, grinning lustily. There was a round of laughter at that, and the silence of before broke. The bustle of activity returned and I found myself suddenly surrounded by dwarves as they came by to greet their King’s intended. Hands were shook and many ‘at your services’ were spoken, and I was nearly overwhelmed with the amount of names and titles passed my way.

“I’m not going to remember a single one of their names, Thorin,” I whispered loudly to him when finally the rush died down. He chuckled slightly and ran a hand down my back, soothing the obvious tension I felt.

“Nor am I,” He admitted with a conspiratorial chuckle. “To be honest, no one will truly expect you to. Everyone is merely eager to meet you and find out what sort you are that I willingly pushed aside a bevy of marriage offers for.”

“A bevy, huh?” I asked lowly, raising a brow at him. “That sort of thing is enough to make even a king’s head turn. Still no doubts?”

“Not a single one,” He replied, his voice suddenly low. He pressed a near searing kiss to my lips. “I will have you, or no other.”

“And why is that?” I asked innocently, my own voice husky. “Does it have anything to do with how fierce a sparring partner I am?”

Thorin head snapped back in surprise, and suddenly he was laughing loudly, a sound so full of life and joy that it made me melt.

“I shall beat senseless whoever it was that told you that,” He said finally, shaking his head and dropping it low. He peered up at me throw his lashes, the look smoldering.

“Though I must admit, that is one of your many appeals.” He reached out to fist his hand in the front of my shirt and he drew me closer. Our mouths were inches apart and he let out a short breath, the smoky scent of pipe-weed mixing with the sweet smell of mead. I licked my lips, having found they were suddenly dry.

Thorin was suddenly jerked backwards, an arm wrapped loosely around his throat as Dain tackled him solidly.

“A fierce sparring partner, indeed, to make Thorin, son of Thrain, so distracted!” Dain called out, laughing. Thorin grinned wryly and swung around, his fist connecting solidly with Dain’s chest. The dwarf let out a loud grunt and let Thorin go. The two stepped apart and regarded each other seriously for a moment before they shared a laugh. Dain came over to me and wrapped a solid arm around my shoulder, jostling me lightly. I raised an eye brow at him.

“Being the wife of a king certainly has its appeals,” He mock-whispered, teasing, “But it is a boring affair. Perhaps you would instead prefer to be a lords’ wife?”

Thorin watched the exchange, amused.

“Ah, Dain, that is almost tempting. But alas for you, I have seen what a king has to offer and I’m afraid whatever you might have would be sorely lacking.” I mock-whispered back. Dain threw back his head and laughed loudly, a sound reminiscent of Thorins’.

“Oh, Thorin, cos, I do not envy you.”

“Why is that?” Thorin asked, coming to my rescue.

“You’ll have to introduce her to Dis!” Dain exclaimed, clasping Thorin solidly on the shoulder. I swear, Thorin’s eye nearly twitched.

“Am I missing something?” I asked, glancing between the two. Thorin let out a short breath.

“My sister can be… difficult.” He finally said. Dain grinned at me.

“I am not sure if I wish to be privy to that meeting. ‘Difficult’,” Dain guffawed at that and wandered off, slapping his thigh as he disappeared into the crowd. I glanced at Thorin.

“Thorin….?” I asked questioningly.

“You are both… stubborn and I fear her tongue is just as sharp as yours.”

“Ah. So either we’ll get along famously, or we’ll end up killing each other. Gotcha.”

“I would hope it does not come to that,” Thorin answered dryly. “I am rather fond of you both.”

Nori came up to us then, a goblet in each hand. I took one gratefully, and Thorin took the other. I took a sip of the brew and realized it was not the elvish mead that we had been drinking of late. It was the thick and heady dwarven brew we had drank in Erebor before the battle.

“Dain brought barrels of the stuff,” Nori explained when he saw me glance at the goblet. “Brought some of our fine whiskey, too.”

I frowned at that.

“I think I’ll pass. Last time I drank that I ended up with a tattoo.” I said with a snort.

“Ah cousin! Come here!” Dain bellowed from across the room. Thorin rolled his eyes up the ceiling and shook his head.

“I think I may be in need of some before this night is through,” Thorin grumbled. He sighed and bowed his head to us before he turned and headed towards Dain. I watched the crowd part easily around him before he disappeared.

“Come, Talya. No doubt the others are eager to see you up and about.” Nori said, clasping a hand on my shoulder. He turned and led me towards a table off to the side where Fili and Kili sat, Bofur, Dori, Ori, and Gloin gathered around them. As I neared, the two brothers shifted apart, making a space for me between them. I settled between them, leaning my arms back against the table behind me. There was a long awkward silence as we all sipped at the ale in our hands. I realized that no one knew what to say to me and I frowned.

“Come on, guys.” I muttered, “What gives?”

“You saved our lives,” Fili finally said, frowning and shifting his leg slightly. “We were fated to die… and you saved us.”

“So?”

“’So’?” Kili asked, nearly exasperated.

“Yeah, so? Nothing has changed.” I fumbled a little at the words, “I knew exactly what I had to do to keep you guys safe. It wasn’t that big of a deal. All I had to do was keep you guys from going in the tower. Keep you safe, Fili, and Kili never would have rushed ahead to fight Bolg. Asking Bofur and Nori to accompany you was more of a failsafe than anything. Keep the two of you safe, and Thorin would not become so grief stricken as to go to his death gladly. Dwalin is the one…” I trailed off, a lump forming in my throat. “Dwalin is the one who gladly gave his life to save his king. I did nothing.”

“Dwalin did what any of us would have to save the life of another,” Gloin said fiercely. “We are warriors, and we would gladly go to our deaths if it meant saving one of our own.”

“Well, then, why is what I did so different?” I asked, exasperated. Fili and Kili glanced at one another and seemed at a loss for words.

“Exactly.” I said firmly. “Now shut up and drink.”

I tiled my head back and drank the rest of the ale in one go. The dwarves exchanged glances, then followed suit.

“Alright, Nori. Maybe I need some of that whiskey after all...”

Nori grinned and grabbed a bottle of the hell-fire. He tugged the top off and took a swig, then offered it to me with a shrug.

“We don’t’ have any glasses,” He said. I sighed and took the bottle in hand. I wrinkled my nose in distaste.

“Well, here goes nothing…” I muttered. I took a huge mouthful and swallowed painfully as the liquid burned a path down my throat. I thrust the bottle to Kili who laughed and took it from me.

After a while, we began to talk of what had occurred to each of us during the battle. I do not know how long we sat there, but it wasn’t long before the rest of the company, save Gandalf, Bilbo, and Thorin, joined in, a fresh bottle of whiskey joining the nearly empty one we had been passing around. Ori and Nori refilled our ale glasses as we spoke and I could hardly tell how many glasses of ale I had, or how many shots I had taken out of the bottle.

Kili and Fili were talking about their part in the battle when I grinned cheekily at Kili.

“Ah, and hows the lady love?” I asked, rolling my head against Fili’s shoulder. The two brothers were leaned against the table now, legs stretched out in front of them. My head was plopped on Fili’s shoulder, my legs stretched out in Kili’s lap.

“Tauriel is… uh… well,” He sputtered. He cleared his throat then. “She’s a bit too shy to join us. Didnt think her presence would be much welcome among our kind.”

I leaned forward and patted his cheek.

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout it.” I hiccupped. “Dwarves are just giant pain in the asses. They’ll come around eventually.”

“Talya… We are dwarves,” Fili said, rolling his head to bonk against mine. I snorted.

“Yeah but… I like you guys.” I stressed. I waved my hand at the rest. “Those guys… Psh. Don’t think I don’t see them glancing my way, all pissy ‘n stuff that their king wants ta marry me.”

“They’re just jealous,” Fili said. “Can’t believe our uncle is so lucky.”

His voice was flirty and I glared at him, one eye closed.

“Just wait until he hears you talking about me like that.” I threatened. Fili laughed.

“No worse than you admiring us shirtless,” Kili shot back. I popped my head up and groaned.

“He told you that?” I smacked my head with my palm. “Tha’ jerk.”

Nori snorted from behind me and I rolled my head to look at him.

“No comments from the peanut gallery, there you,” I muttered. I reached out and snagged the bottle of whiskey out of his hand before he had a chance to take a sip. I took a huge mouthful, wiped the back of my hand on my mouth, and passed it back to him.

“Im gonna kick his ass. First going on about me being a good ‘sparring’ partner, then telling you guys I was checking you out in Rivendell.” I grumbled.

“Oh, I’d pay to see that,” Bofur commented.

“Don’t encourage her,” Fili warned. “I don’t think she could even stand right now, let alone even attempting to take on Uncle.”

“Hey! I could stand just fine.” I groused. I crossed my arms stubbornly over my chest and my companions laughed at me.

“Ah, there you are!” Dain called out, parting through the crowds with Thorin trailing behind.

“You missed quite the drinking game,” Dain commented, glancing amongst us. He raised an eyebrow when he took in how I lay between Fili and Kili.

“Ah, curse the line of Durin that they have so solidly secured your affections!” He teased. “If you can sate the three of them, then no doubt you truly are a worthy ‘sparring’ partner!”

I frowned then, taking a minute to realize what he was implying. I jerked up solidly and nearly fell on my ass in an attempt to distance myself from the two of them, sputtering. Dain laughed loudly and I glared daggers at him, then glanced at Thorin who appeared entirely too amused, seemingly used to his cousins raunchy sense of humor.

“Don’t you be laughing!” I ground out, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You’re already in trouble, there, mister.”

“Uh-oh.” I heard Nori whisper behind me. I ignored him.

“And for what reason am I in trouble, Talya?” He asked, brow raised. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and peered down at me, a smirk playing at his lips.

“It seems our dear Talya is quite incensed that you spoke so boldly of her other talents.” Bofur answered.

“That and you made mention of the fact that she couldn’t keep her eyes off us in Rivendell.” Fili added, smirking. It seems that he and Kili, too, were used to Dain’s sense of humor and hardly seemed bothered by his implications.

“I do believe she threatened to, what was it? ‘Kick your ass’?” Nori finished, winking at me. I glared daggers at the dwarf.

“Is that so?” Dain asked with a laugh. “Looks like a challenge has been laid down, Thorin. What say you?”

“I would say that it would not be fair to her to accept such a challenge.” Thorin answered, eyeing me as he said it. I knew he was goading me and I frowned.

“I think you’re just scared,” I shot back. Thorin stilled and raised an eye brow very slowly.

“Is that so?” He asked.

“Yup,” I popped the ‘p’ as I said it. Dain chuckled.

“Ah, I think I like this woman of yours.” He commented. “Come on, then, clear a path!”

The dwarves around us looked up startled and began to clear out, leaving a large circle like area open. I frowned and glanced back at Fili and the others. They were grinning and I began to feel like I had stepped into something.

“Come then,” Thorin said, holding a hand out to me. “A challenge was laid down, and a challenge has been accepted.”

I frowned further and Fili pushed me forwards. I took Thorins hand and he smiled at me then.

“We shall spar then, in truth. And we will see who the victor is.” He said softly, laying a kiss on my knuckles.

“That’s not…” I started to argue.

“Now it is you, I think, who is afraid.” He commented lightly, tugging me towards the circle. I grumbled. He tugged Orcrist from his side and handed it off to Dain who took it, smirking. I undid my own and passed it off to Ori, who had stepped up to my side.

“My intended as challenged me,” Thorin called out, glancing at the dwarves around us. “And so I must accept, or have my honor questioned.”

I swallowed thickly, sobering a little quicker than I thought possible. Thorin turned to face me.

“Do not fear, my love. I will go easy on you.” He said softly, laying one last kiss to my knuckles before stepping away. I felt a chill and wondered just what the hell I had gotten myself into. Thorin tugged off his cloak and I followed suit, the cloaks quickly gathered and taken out of our way. Thorin began to circle me slowly and I watched him carefully.

He jerked forward suddenly to a cheer of the dwarves and in no time at all, we were grappling, twisting and turning in an attempt to pin the other. My heart was racing, adrenaline coursing through me as I blocked his moves and jerked out of his light grasps. I realized very early on that he was going easy on me. I frowned a little at that, my pride a little hurt. I easily jerked my arm out of his hand and he lunged after me, attempting so grab at my waist. I ducked low, one knee hitting the ground as I swung my leg out and swept his legs out from under him. Being already unsteady from his attempted grab, he fell forward and fell solidly on the ground. I launched myself forward and landed squarely on his back. He twisted under me and I found myself sitting on his chest.

Whereas before, his eyes had been light and teasing, there was a sudden fire there and I shivered. Quicker than I anticipated, he threw himself forward and had me pinned under him. I squirmed as he easily caught my wrists in his strong hands.

“Are you so easily caught, love?” He asked teasingly. “And I thought you meant to challenge me.”

I growled at him then, much to the amusement of the dwarves watching.

“Is that a woman you intend to take as a mate, or a she-wolf?” One called out, laughing. I struggled under him and he grinned down at me, having entirely too much fun. I glanced down between us and I smirked.

While I struggled, I casually positioned myself so that I was between his legs. In a quick jerk, I brought my knee up and stopped just under his bits. He froze above me as I jostled him lightly.

“Now that is not fair,” He muttered.

“Who said this was supposed to be fair?” I asked.

“Aha, she has you now, Thorin!” called out a dwarf. “I suggest you give up before you end up with as high of a voice as our elven hosts!”

There was much laughter and Thorin shook his head. He loosened his grip on my wrists slowly and I lowered my leg. He stood then and offered a hand to me. I took it and he pulled me to his feet.

Dain came up behind me and clapped me hard on the back. I stumbled a little under the weight and he pressed a bottle to my chest. I grabbed it and took a swig, offering it to Thorin. He took it and sipped from it slowly, his eyes not leaving mine.

“A toast, then, to our fierce queen-to-be, Talya Shadowbane!” Dane called out, raising his mug to the crowd. There was much laughter and cheering then, and I hoped like hell it would be this easy to win over the rest of his people.

Chapter Text

As hung-over as I was the next morning, I found that I had enjoyed how relaxed I had been the night before. Gone had been the ache in in my chest over the miscarriage. Gone had been my misgivings about meeting the rest of Thorin’s kin. Gone had been my guilt over Dwalins’ death.

With Thorin’s attention once more shifted to the business at hand and with the time of our departure nearing all too soon, I found myself drinking a little more than I should at each meal. It was to the point that I had a near steady buzz throughout the day. I found it so much easier to deal with the new dwarves that way, with their puzzling stares and near-accusing looks. Despite the apparent delight they had shown when Thorin and I had sparred and the name they had given me out of sheer respect for my accomplishments in battle, it was very obvious that they still were not entirely sold on the idea of Thorin taking me as his wife.

The drunken spar with Thorin proved, too, that I wasn’t quite as healed as I had thought. I found myself very sore over the next few days and the alcohol helped numb that pain, too. When I had mistakenly told Thorin how pained my ribs were, he had frowned and become quite delicate when handling me, which frustrated me to no end. When I did see him, mostly at nights, he treated me like a porcelain doll, his once ardent kisses and touches cooled to an almost icy level. This too, bothered me, and instead of telling him, I avoided him further, convincing myself that he did not need anything else to worry about.

The day before we were to leave, I found myself leaning against a pillar in the room allotted to the dwarves. I was sitting on the floor, knees bent and boots planted firmly, one arm resting on a leg, the other clutching a bottle of whiskey that I had nicked from Nori when he wasn’t looking.

There was a light sound of boots on the stone and I turned to find Legolas behind me, having no doubt purposefully made noise as to not startle me. I raised an eye brow, wondering what had brought him there. I pushed off of the floor and turned to face him. He was dressed in travelling clothes, bow and quiver over one shoulder, sword at his side and his dual knives strapped to his back.

“Prince Legolas,” I said, bowing my head. He arched a fine eye brow.

“Queen Talya,” I wrinkled my nose in distaste at his words and he gave a dry laugh.

“It seems you have as much taste for titles as I do,” He said softly.

“Then I apologize for so naming you,” I replied, leaning against the pillar with arms crossed.

“I am leaving Mirkwood,” He said finally. “There has been too much strife betwixt my father and I, too many points in which we disagree. I find that I have a desire to travel and find for myself what sort of world lay beyond our borders. I found myself unable to go without first bidding you farewell.”

“Where will you go?” I asked, curious to see if he would mention the ranger. Legolas let out a soft breath.

“In truth, I know not. For now, it is enough that I leave my father’s halls.” I frowned at his answer and chewed my lip a moment.

“You know of the Dunedain?” I asked finally. He narrowed his eyes and nodded.

“Then go to them. Seek out a ranger who is known as Strider. He has many names, and perhaps you will find them out for yourself. Ride with him and his kin and learn what you can from them.”

Legolas leveled a look at me, considering my words carefully.

“I will do as you bid, Talya. Following your council oft seems to be the wiser course.” He offered a hand to me and I rolled my eyes.

“You saved my life, Legolas. I think that earns you more than just a hand shake.” I embraced him heartily, much to his surprise. He seemed startled and it took him a moment to relax enough to hug me back.

“You saved my life, first. I was merely returning the favor.” He said kindly. He stepped back and we regarded each other carefully.

“I hope that I find the Dunedain to be as stalwart and staunch as you.”

“And I hope that they are able to teach you what the long years in your fathers’ realm has not.” I said, smiling lightly.

“And what would that be?” He enquired.

“How to laugh.” I shook my head. “Your kind is supposed to be merry, despite what your father seems to think. Learn how to smile and how to laugh. Learn to enjoy life, rather than drift through it.”

He inclined his head to me slightly, then glanced down at the bottle in my hand.

“Will you heed your own council?” He asked quietly. “Will you leave behind your guilt and your heartaches? Will you learn to enjoy life once more?”

I frowned and shifted.

“I’m not so good at taking my own advice,” I admitted. Legolas watched me for a long moment.

“I hope you find peace, mellon nin.” He finally said. He smiled then, the first true one I had seen, and I could not help but smile in return.

“I will miss you, Talya. Despite the fact that we have not long known each other, your easy manner lightens my heart and reminds me that all in the world is not lost. For that, I do thank you.”

“Aw, you elves speak so pretty,” I said, “I think I’ll miss that when I go back to Erebor.”

“And I believe I will miss the way in which you so easily challenge my father.” Legolas said with a short laugh. “No one has ever dared to speak to him in such a way.”

“I think everyone needs a swift kick in the ass now and again.” I replied with a shrug. The elf-prince nodded his head in apparent agreement, then let out a long breath.

“Farewell, Talya Shadowbane.” He bowed his head to me then, touching two fingers lightly to his brow. I returned the gesture and watched as he turned and walked away. I felt a small ache, then, to know that I would likely never see him again. Never see the changes wrought in him by his friendship with Aragorn. Never get to witness the bond he would form with Gimli.

I brought the bottle of whiskey to my lips and noticed that several of the dwarves nearby were staring at me reproachfully, no doubt disgusted by my easy friendship with the son of Thranduil. I downed a mouthful of the whiskey and, deciding I had quite enough with their attitudes, turned and started to walk away.

“Warrior or not, the women-folk of Man are all alike,” A dwarf muttered as I passed. “Eager to fall into bed with whoever it is that can offer them most.”

“I wonder if our King knows how fickle her attentions are.”

I felt myself flush as I walked away, the words stinging more than I cared to admit. I took another swig out of the bottle and pushed through the door ways, letting the solid wood slam shut behind me.

I was in a dark mood by the time I reached my rooms. Legolas’s kind words did little to lessen the irritation I felt over the dwarves’ treatment of me and the overall depression that engulfed me. I wondered how it was that I felt worse now that the quest was done and my purpose had been fulfilled than before, when I was still uncertain whether or not I would succeed in saving the sons of Durin.

I dropped the now empty bottle on the floor as I leaned against my now closed door. I thumped my head back against it and stared up at the ceiling. I reached up and ran my fingers over Thorin’s ring at my throat, wondering if it was really best that I stay with him to become his wife. There was already opposition against the idea, and that was just here, in Mirkwood, with a handful of his people. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like once we were back in Erebor, surrounded by dwarves.

Then there was the fact that I would never give him a son. Never give him an heir to his throne. I had realized by then that Galadriel had never said I would never bear him a daughter, but that would mean little to his people. It was a line of kings, not of queens. Thorin may have said that he had already accepted Fili as his heir but I questioned how he really felt. He too often buried his true feelings deep and with as withdrawn from me as he had been, I could not help but wonder if he really did resent me for losing our child.

I turned and punched the door in frustration, immediately coming to regret the motion. I cursed loudly and rubbed my sore knuckles. I shoved off from the door and, kicking the empty bottle as I passed, went and plopped down on the bed. Thorin had not even been sharing the bed with me most nights and that ate at me, too. I couldn’t help but think that now he was with his own kind, he was beginning to regret his affections towards me. That thought did not sit well with me.

I sat there for a long while, staring out the nearby window at the nearly bare trees. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but before long, the door opened and Thorin walked in. He was perhaps the last person that I really wanted to see at the moment and I barely regarded him as he came to my side.

“The dinner bells have already rung, Talya.” He said, frowning. “We have been looking for you.”

I glanced at him briefly and shrugged.

“I didn’t hear,” I answered shortly. Thorin seemed to be taken aback by my tone of voice, but he did not comment.

“Come, then. We leave on the morrow and it is best if we eat a hearty meal now.” He stepped back enough for me to slide off the bed. The motion was much less graceful than it should have been considering the amount of booze I had consumed that after noon, and I let out a pained gasp as I over-stretched my muscles. Thorin immediately gripped my arm and steadied me, but I jerked out of his grasp.

“I’m fine,” I growled. “I’m not a damn doll.”

I felt light headed and realized that I had not eaten at all that day. That coupled with the whiskey, and I felt as though I may vomit. I grit my teeth together.

“You know what? Go on ahead. Im not hungry.” I bit out.

“Talya….” Thorin started, reaching out to touch my shoulder, but I pulled away again.

“No, Thorin. Go on. No doubt your people will be able to stomach their dinner better if I weren’t around.” I felt a painful lurch in my chest and I knew that I was about to cry and hated myself a little for it. I walked to the window, making sure not to face him, and ducked my head down. I reached up wrapped my fingers around the ring at my neck, savoring the feeling for seconds before I jerked, hard. The fabric, already frayed from its journey through the battle, snapped easily and came away in my fist. Swallowing hard, I turned to face Thorin. He was closer than I expected, his face drawn into a mask of confusion.

“Here,” I said, holding my fist to him. He glanced down and slowly held his palm out. When I dropped his ring into his waiting hand, he jerked his head up to look at me, wounded.

“Why…” There was more pain in his voice than I had anticipated and I closed my eyes and quickly turned away as I felt tears well up.

“I don’t belong with you,” I whispered. “It was lovely while it lasted, and it meant more to me than I can ever tell you. But it was a joke to think that I could have ever been anything more to you than a fond memory as you age alongside your true queen.”

“Why are you saying this?” Thorin demanded, voice suddenly angry.

“Because it’s true, dammit. Your people will never accept me as your queen. I am not a dwarf. I am not even supposed to be here. I can’t make the right choices. I couldn’t even keep you all safe. My stupidity killed Dwalin and… and… our…,” My voice broke then and I shut my eyes tightly against the torrent of tears. “You deserve a strong wife. A strong dwarven woman. One that can give you sons and you can proudly call yours.”

“Had you forgotten that the son you carried was to be the only one ever born to me?” He snapped then, painfully, his voice a sharp whip. “I could lay with a thousand woman and none would ever bear me an heir.”

I had nothing to say to that, the accusation in his voice more than I could bear.

“Talya,” His voice was softer. “For the love of Mahal, look at me!”

He was behind me suddenly, his strong hand wrapping tightly around my upper arm. I fought against him, but he did not let go. He jerked me to him, wrapping strong arms around me.

“It does not matter to me.” He whispered, tucking my head under his chin. “Even if another could bear me a son, I would not turn away from you. A hundred years I have lived, and never before have I ever loved another as I love you. A hundred further, and I could never find one who I would love more.”

I sobbed raggedly into his chest and I felt his own shoulders shake as he held me.

“You are so strong. So brave. And so very selfless. I have never met another who would have risked what you have to save those they had never met. Because of you, my nephews will live on. They will be able to walk the halls of Erebor because of you. And even if I had fallen, I would have gone to my death with a peace in me I have not known since Smaug tore from me my family and my home. Because of you.” Thorin reached up and gripped my face gently in his strong hands, thumbs brushing away the wetness from my cheeks. I looked at him then, surprised to see that his own eyes glistened fiercely, tears gathering thickly in his lashes and trailing down his face to stick wetly in his beard.

“Everything I have ever wanted is now within my grasp. Erebor has been reclaimed. The Arkenstone rests once more above the throne. And I am king of a homeless people no more.” He gripped my chin firmly then and looked at me, brows furrowed. “And it means nothing to me if you are not by my side. I beg of you. Do not turn from me.”

I buried my head in his chest then, shoulders shaking, breaths coming in ragged and painful gasps. Thorin wrapped his arms around me once more, his cheek resting on my head.

“Amrâlimê,” He whispered. “Amrâlimê. My love.”