Hobbit 1. Shadow in the Dark

**Hello! This is my first fanfic that I have written, and hopefully it is not weird. So far there is a crazy long outline of the chapters, so I have no excuse to not go up to at least chapter 10 (and there would most likely be more if there is a good following). If anything, I really welcome critique, helpful hints, and generally happy thoughts.  
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**This is a Thorin/OC fanfic, I promise. It will just take time for my stubborn characters to get out of their tank-thick shells...  
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**PLEASE NOTE: So far in my writing this is going to be a slowmance = takes a long while for any relationship to even happen. Also Later on I will reference a character from the final fantasy 7 game, but only really using their appearance/name/signature ability (plus they will be portrayed as a young child). The life span of dwarves will go to about 300 yrs, based on The Hobbit wiki.**

**Anyway, Please Enjoy!**

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Chapter 1: Shadow in the Dark

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With the Dragon destroyed and the battle won, those who were feared to die from severe wounds survived, and slowly Erebor began its renewal. Two years had passed since the quest for Erebor was completed, and the true amount of damage was assessed by the dwarves and the other races. Numerous vital parts of Erebor required great effort to repair the effects of the dragon Smaug's invasion and residence. The one of the first apparent problems was not what many suspected: the water ways and plumbing. Immense cave-ins and broken pillars had not only ruined many parts of the pipes, but also obstructed the work. Even now, they struggled with repairing the farther secluded areas, which happen to mostly be residential living spaces. The gold of the king was their crutch on repairing the city, since mining could not continue yet. Thorin's companions from the quest had settled into their own roles specific to the rebuilding of the kingdom. What helped immensely was the slow trickle of returning dwarf families, hoping for work and security of the mountain.

Thorin, who had been crowned King under the Mountain after the battle of the five armies, was faced with problems he was not originally trained for: working with the humans and elves to rebuild trade. Thorin was now sitting at the head of a grand table in an ancient council room in Erebor. He was already tired from the work with Gloin and Ori, for there was another cave-in that had blocked an area that lead to the library which contained the oldest records of the kingdom.

The council had just recently been discussing the new trade route that was being proposed and the joint caravan of merchants from the elves, humans and dwarves. In most senses, this would be an easy issue, but it required numerous supplies and people for the job; both, which they lacked still. Thorin felt better about the elves after the grand battle, but most trade was done with the humans of Lake-town, because they were the go-between. Now the subject had changed…

"There are still not many dwarven women that have come to reside here." An elderly, but stern dwarf from the far end of the table stated. "And the ones who have come are not even near Prince Fili's age; more than twice his years really." It was decided early on that Fili will be pressed to find a lady dwarf to marry so that the Durin line would be preserved, which was not something he expected.

Balin, who was at Thorin's left side, then spoke up. "Lord Dain has mentioned when he was last here, that many young woman showed interest in courting Prince Fili. And we should expect them before the summer season ends."

"He has a way of charming the ladies, as long as he is not always causing trouble."

"But while Prince Fili is the eldest son of Lady Dis, what would be more preferred is…" the old dwarf trailed off his sentence, but all knew well of what he meant, and Thorin caught on very well.

"I will not find a wife, Fili will be just fine, and my sister always knew it was a possibility that he would be next in line."

"But your majesty, you are the eldest, so it would be only right-."

"Enough, our meeting is over." He cut in, not wanting to continue this topic any longer. The elders, including Balin gave varying nods and sighs, and began leaving the hall. Thorin sat at his table in deep thought. _They bring it up almost once a week now…_Thorin moved out of his chair and began his way to the throne room, deep in thought stroking his beard.

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Somewhere, having passed through an old secret entrance, a shadow moved, and as silent as the light breeze it carried, the shadow watched and followed the King's movements from afar.

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A procedure had been set up just for the Arkenstone, the most treasured jewel to all dwarves, and Thorin was the main part of this procedure every evening. He stepped towards the set of guards who had been awaiting his arrival each time. They were some of the finest war veterans he knew, and as they stood by with pride for the king to retrieve the jewel from its clasp at the head of the throne, they waited patiently. Thorin silently pondered, '_this stone no longer holds any true meaning to me, except as a reminder to never fall under the gold-sickness again, for the cost of it was great.'_

The guards marched on either side of the king, behind and in front, as all traversed to the king's quarters, which was a relatively simple section of Erebor to be restored, for not much damage had befallen it during the dragon's invasion. '_When there is enough of a guard, then I will no longer have to keep the stone in that place and then we can have guards just watch the throne room. But until there are more citizens and repairs...it must be at my side.'_

The walk was long, for the private quarters for royalty was part the oldest area of Erebor, with the most intricate of designs carved into the mountain walls, and gold veins appearing on the ceiling as if they were the branches of a golden tree reaching for a horizon in the dark. Among the gold, made to protrude from the very rock itself, were gems of many colors, so that the gold branches had many colored stars as their leaves. Thorin remembered his childhood days when his grandfather, Thror, had told him of the great dwarves of the past who had first designated this section to be for their royals, and had with great respect; put all their devotion into their work to make the rock magnificent.

Thorin and the guards had then finally reached the double doors to his chambers, where he would be left alone to place the Arkenstone in a safe place that was secret only to him. The guards watched as he entered and closed the doors behind him.

He held up the stone to the light of his fire place, and the prisms that played in his eyes, made him frown. _ 'This stone is the reason the dwarves of Erebor came back, and also why many followed me into battle…this stone.'_ Then he slowly made his way near the fire, still holding the stone. The bellows of the furnaces were usually enough to warm the mountain but only a small few had been lit, and the water heating system was still being repaired, so most parts of Erebor had a chill still in the air.

_'The council and even my faithful friends Dwalin and Balin would want me to take a wife for a queen.'_ Pausing before the fire, he looked into it, with an arm at his back, and while watching the stones light, continued his thoughts. '_How would I even be able to find someone who can understand…who I am? Would I even be able to give them the 'love' they would ask of me? I feel nothing for any woman, my duty is my life, and the crown my vows. When have I thought otherwise?'_

Only very faintly, Thorin felt something; wind? Then out of nowhere a knife appears at his throat, and a voice with absolute venom whispers, "Do not move, you're Majesty."

"What-! Who are you!?" immediately he felt his anger spark in his chest.

There is another knife at his back, and the completely shrouded figure responds, "I will take that precious gem of yours…" The voice in his ear makes him all the more aware of how close this person is. He slightly shifts his body, and the figure quickly presses the knife against his neck, making it highly apparent that they would not be accepting of any further movement on his part.

"…and I will not hesitate to kill you, _King _under the _Mountain_, for I am a hunter of the most exquisite Treasure!"

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**Thank you for reading! (and hopefully maybe a review?)**


	2. Blood on the Arkenstone

Chapter 2: Blood on the Arkenstone

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"…And I will not hesitate to kill you, King under the Mountain, for I am a hunter of the most exquisite treasure!"

Thorin hesitates and is trying to put his thoughts together, but the figure's head moves slightly, and he realizes that the stone is still being gripped tightly by his hand. He takes a sharp breath in and moves to throw the stone, but before he can the knife runs across his hands, he drops it, and faster than his eyes could see in the fire light, the treasure hunter snatches it.

Thorin, now in a rage, reaches for the cloak of the stranger but quickly finds the hilt of a knife being rammed into his skull's temple. The effect is immediate, and he crumples to his knee, pressing the bump that was now forming there and feeling the smallest moisture from blood being drawn there.

The moment he looks up, he sees the thief swiftly retreating, and as if in slow motion notices him place the stone in a small satchel on their hip. The thief had only just opened the doors, when he stood again, fueled by a sudden burst of energy, and bellows: "Guards! The Arkenstone has been stolen! Catch that thief!"

The thief had made it through the door, and as they escaped his view, Thorin stalled in his thoughts for a moment. The intruder was about his height, maybe even a little less. Had he just imagined it?

'_Why would a Dwarf steal the most treasured jewel of the Dwarf King?'_

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'_This task was much easier than I expected.'_

The shrouded figure was nowmaking their way down the path, and, thanks to the element of surprise, had just managed to literally slip by the two guards at the double doors of the King's private quarters. Now that they were behind, they could not keep up with the thief, though they were a bit taller. The treasure hunter had not won yet, for still the entirety of the kingdom had to be crossed, and there would not be the ease of sneaking in from earlier. Now the whole kingdom was being alerted to their presence…and what the thief had done.

"Halt!"

"Intercept him!"

"Don't let that thieving filth get away with the stone!"

Different taunts and commands were adding up, and the thief was not unnoticing of the increasing number of dwarves behind their back, or of the dwarves that had joined from different corridors.

The section of Erebor that they ran through now was the hardest part, according to the earlier surveying they had done. Up ahead began the stairs that descended abruptly to the left, and a railing of bronze; but the stairs made a one hundred and eighty degree turn and so below the upcoming railing should be more stairs, and it repeats twice more. The problem was the drop, if they descended the stairs a bit, then the drop would not be as high, but that would make it easier for the dwarves to catch up possibly. So they took a chance.

'_This may actually be a challenge for me…for once.' _The thief mused, and smirked under the scarf that hid their face to the point where only the eyes could be seen.

They leaped from the railing, the dwarves cursed and gasped, and the drop ended up being about 30 feet, which was about the height of a 3-story house.

"Impossible…" the nearest dwarf muttered. They ran to the edge, but were even more shocked when they saw the thief running down the stairs below, with a much larger advantage of distance.

The thief was making great progress, and had started to wonder: '_There may even be the possibility that I can get to the gate without anyone even knowing what has happened yet.'_ This thought made the treasure hunter laugh out loud, but as they leaped over the edge of another railing, they made a mistake. This ledge went much farther down before reaching the stairs below.

"Shit! Too high!" The words flew from the thief's mouth before they could even think, but as the wind whipped around their cloak, right down below a lone dwarf looked up. The thief could not avoid it, and waved their gloved hand in a fast loop, and seemed to point it to the ground.

Balin, the one who was looking up to the person falling from above, suddenly felt an extremely strong gust of wind. It was like when the dragon had first flew over Dale, it was similar to a hurricane; this wind had ripped the air from his lungs, and he fell onto his hands, only to witness something extraordinary…

A great wind had instantly become a small funnel and as the person dropped into it, the wind drastically slowed their fall and allowed them to just lightly step to the ground. And just as suddenly as the wind appeared, it had calmed down. The thief took a deep breath and saw Balin on the ground; they hesitated for a moment, with great apprehension in their eyes, before continuing to dash down the stairs.

'_He saw me…He saw me! No! I should have been more careful!' _The thief cursed at themselves.

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Since it was evening outside, most dwarves had gone in for the night, which made most of the run easy, but just as the thief got to the base of the stairs, several dwarves noticed the commotion and had drew their axes and swords. There was no way around this group, because they blocked the corner at the base, and it turned around and into the wall to the right. This path was one of the most direct ways out, and three dwarves, two with axes, and one with a long sword, were blocking it.

"Get out of my way!" the thief screamed as they drew both knives, readying for a defensive position. They had to slow their step from running down the stairs, and just as the nearest dwarf swung down his axe, the thief shifted their weight and uses the last step of the stair as leverage to dodge. The second dwarf then swung a larger axe horizontally, as if to cleave their torso from the legs, and with almost no room for any other move, the thief fell backwards on to their back. Looking up, and just in that split second, they rolled to the side as a sword had come down where their neck would have been. '_These dwarves are serious about intruders being punished severely!' _

Picking themselves up after missing their target, the first dwarf roared as he swung again and this time sliced a part of the cloak, but only just at the hem, for the thief had enough time to stand up and flee.

"Blast! I dropped one of my knives…" The thief cursed. The corridors and paths were much more open, and while the thief was running out of breath, the sight of the gates nearing gave a new spark of energy.

'_I have to make it out, and then…' _they thought momentarily before hearing loud voices from either side of the gate, dwarves were barking orders. The main hall was enormous and their yelling echoed, but even more so the thief's footsteps. The dwarves had only just began to push upon the gates and the thief panicked, lifting their hand is if signaling them to stop. But the dwarves did not notice, because suddenly they could feel that the large doors of the gate became strangely more difficult to move.

"Thief!" rang a familiar voice, which belonged to the King under the Mountain. Though the voice was farther back, and they had only managed a slight glance over their shoulder, the thief was shocked. '_How…? How did they all get here so quickly...A secret passage?'_

The thief burst through the gates. The night air was cold and the openness of the outdoors hit their senses. Running as fast as they could down the grand stone path, the thief made sure to stick close to the edge…

Down below was a fierce torrent of white water that came spilling from the mountain, its sound echoed in the deep ravine, as it flowed along the side of the high great walkway. This was the last resort if they were threatened to be caught.

The sound of the dwarves marching was the first thing that was heard before an arrow whizzed past, just barely missing their shoulder. The youngest dwarf, Prince Kili, was gaining speed, and just as the thief was moving, regaining their balance from dodging the last arrow, he fires another arrow, this time grazing the side of the thief's torso.

The thief screams as they stumble and fall to the ground. The arrow had not stuck, but it left a deep gash above the hip where it cut. Quickly the dwarves create a wide semi-circle around the thief, but keep a great distance, because barely a foot behind the shrouded figure was the drop into the strong river. Looking around from their crouched position, it became apparent to that there was the one option left.

Thorin, with Dwalin and Balin at his side, come to the front, and with absolute anger in his voice he says, "Do you think you can take that which is not yours!? Return the stone now!"

"…No." they utter through gritted teeth. Thorin raised his hand, which still had dried blood upon it from earlier, to signal for Kili to draw on his bow. This one was aimed for their heart.

"This is my final warning." He paused. "Return the Arkenstone, or you _will_ be killed."

Everyone held their breath. Balin eyed the person in front of them with curiosity, while Dwalin, his brother, was flexing his fingers around his axe.

Balin looked closely at the mysterious person, and then noticed something. '_Am I imagining it, or are their eyes…glowing slightly? But it is night, how is that possible? And that strange wind earlier…'_

"NO!" He heard Thorin shout with anger, and was snapped out of his thoughts.

The thief had moved just enough to easily fall over the side and into the raging river below.


	3. Sticks and Stones

**Good Evening everyone, (it is night right now)**

**I forgot to add a note to the earlier chapter, but first of all a huge THANK YOU to JMac322 for being the most awesome Beta. I am working hard to improve my writing to help the story flow, and make the editing less of a nightmare.**

**Another huge thank you to you all, the readers~! **

**I think I should mention this: I own nothing but my Lady character (her name to be revealed soon) and others that may appear later.**

**Please enjoy this chapter and I look forward to hearing any comments/reviews!**

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Chapter 3: Sticks and Stones

_All the work, effort, and the BLOOD that has been spilt for that stone and it was taken so easily?! That filthy thief had taken it! The Arkenstone was stolen right from my hand!_

This thought makes Thorin squeeze his fists tightly, causing the cut on his hand to sting and further his rage. Thorin however takes a deep breath and turns to Balin, who is standing right beside him. Thorin catches Balin's expression, which was not of anger or urgency, but of deep thought. He knew that look to mean something was on his mind that was usually complex.

"Balin" Thorin stated firmly. "I leave you and in charge of capturing the thief. Take whoever you need, but I have a condition."

"Yes, your Majesty?"

"Do whatever it takes to bring back the Arkenstone…and bring the thief back, dead or alive." If his anger was not evident on his voice, then he was doing very well to hide it. Thorin did not want his subjects to know how vehement he felt. At the sight of the thief falling into the river, he was ready to jump in also, all the while cursing every moment and wanting to drag out the thief himself. Balin still saw anger in his King's eyes however, and regarded this with a simple nod.

Thorin wanted to go along, but his responsibility to stay within Erebor frustrated him, because he yearned to venture outside freely. With Balin immediately taking command, Thorin takes Dwalin and Kili aside, as they were also itching to act. Dwalin has a fuming expression, which matched his own. Kili, on the other hand looked disappointed in himself, possibly for failing to hinder the target.

"Dwalin, you are one of my most trusted comrades and also my friend. When the stone is retrieved, I trust you to be the one to bring it to me with all haste. There must not be a day where the stone is not present to signify the greatness of dwarves." Thorin stated, and then turned to Kili, who was barely avoiding eye contact.

"I know what you are thinking…"

"Uncle, I a-ask your forgiveness for my aim. If I had done better, then we would not be in this situation…" Kili grumbled. Thorin placed his hand on his shoulder assertively.

"You did well. Since the thief was injured, we still have a chance of catching him. Go with them, and aid Balin. I will tell Fili, but he is not allowed to leave just yet for his safety would be in question if he joined you." Thorin had always known Kili and Fili worked together better than any other pair of dwarves, but because the council and himself had put pressure on Fili to be next in line, his life could not be risked.

Kili had not taken that news well overall. At first he had been excited, but soon his best friend, his brother, was no longer able to go on as many adventures. Fili was always ready to take on his duty, but Kili had that young spark in him and the need for adventure. A small rift had come between them, but whenever there was the chance that they could be mischievous they took it.

"Uncle…what is to become of the thief if we do catch him alive?" Kili asked, with more determination in his voice. Thorin thinks again of the eyes of the thief as they taunted him, and the dried blood on his hand. He clenches his fist again tightly, holds up the bloody fist and affirms to both the dwarves in front of him with gritted teeth with rage hinting, "The _thief_ will be punished _thoroughly _for his crimes_." _

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The impact was hard, and the water was like daggers of ice. Any air in her lungs had been knocked out from the fall. Luck was on her side, for she did not land amongst the rocks, or else her goal would have been fatally cut short. The torrent was strong though, and it quickly carried her far from Erebor. The mission was becoming more dangerous.

Fallen trees lay under the surface and the current was getting stronger, trying to draw her under.

_Need more air…no! _ She thrashed to the surface and struggled to draw in more air to her starving lungs, but each time the force of the water tossed her around and she was drawn under. The world was spinning with no control, and her lungs burned more.

_Which direction is up?_

_I cannot die yet…I need to…must…get to…_

The effort to stay alive was difficult, but her body fought with an unwavering determination from a bubbling source that was unknown.

After what seemed to be almost an eternity in the water, with only her instincts to draw upon, she broke the surface.

Filling her lungs with air, she could finally gather her bearings. The river was calming down significantly, and with the slowing current she was able to finally maneuver her legs.

"Ouch!" she hissed. Through the torrent of water, she had collided with a fallen tree under the surface, and now the wound was causing her left thigh to throb horribly. At this point she could not tell if the wound was bleeding or if a bone was broken.

_Need to reach the bank…_

She looked around, and was surprised to find behind her, upstream, were the lights of the city of Dale. Paddling slowly to the bank of the river took a great effort, and her breathing was getting ragged.

The chill of the water only numbed the pain; she had to ascertain the intensity of the wounds upon her body. She was nervous of what she was going to find.

Finally reaching the bank, her aching hands grabbed and pulled on whatever was closest. Her arms, stiff from the exertion of staying above the water, almost gave way beneath her. Finally out of the water, her body felt immensely heavy. Rolling onto her back, with the rocks and pebbles sticking at odd angles in her back felt strangely welcoming.

After taking a few deep breathes, her thoughts came back, and though exhaustion threatened to take her into dreams, she sluggishly sat up. Pulling back the dark shirt that covered the wound to her side, she groaned at the sight.

_It is not too deep, but the bleeding has not stopped…_

She grasped the edge of her cloak, then tore from the rip the axe had already created, and managed to make a long wide piece for a bandage. Carefully wrapping it around so that it held fast to the wound, she tightened it and almost bit her lip off from the sting it caused.

After tying that piece, she moved to uncover part of her leg, and winced at the sight. The flesh was already becoming black and blue, and a few pieces of splinters of wood stuck out. Slowly moving her hand over the wound, attempting to keep it steady, she began to pull each individual splinter out. Some hurt because of how big they were, but the rest felt numb.

_Thank the creator my leg isn't broken…though this bruise is only going to get worse_.'

Covering her thigh and standing up carefully, she realized the night was still young. The moon had not even risen entirely yet. The area was not well covered with trees, and this posed a problem because if anyone was following the river, there was the chance they could spot her location from afar.

Taking the first crunching step on the gravel bank, she made her way down river. There was sparse plant life, and when there was absolutely no coverage, she would crouch down in the shrubbery. The night was eerily silent. The moon was full, so light was not an issue. Glancing back towards Dale, she began to go over the information she had learned about that city as she made her way down the river. The city had only been partially rebuilt, but many humans and dwarves had taken up residence there. Many sections had been so beyond repair that the residents had simply used the old stones for new structures. Towers were rebuilt and all the roads cleared.

But what stood out the most were the elevated towers that were slowly being rebuilt. They rose just slightly taller than some of the other buildings and had not yet been crowned with any projectile weapon, but the obvious reason was for new wind lances. The people were so proud of the fact that a single wind lance had taken down the most infamous of dragons, and so they put up more wind lances in honor of the feat. That or they just felt they could take on more dragons.

The thief snorted at the idea of any wind lance being used again. It was rumored that Smaug was the last of his kind, and therefore it was pointless to create a weapon that was solely useful against dragons. The lord of Lake-town more than likely thought to put up new wind lances to give new and old residents a symbol which would instill a feeling of comfort and safety.

Walking was tiring, and the night was frigid. She could tell winter was coming on faster, because with each deep intake of icy air, her breath came out in a warm little cloud. After a couple hours of stumbling down a sudden slope, she had finally reached shore. The soil was softer than earlier because of the high tide, and though there was plenty of gravel still, the ground gave a bit to the pressure of her feet. There on the edge of the lake, she saw the waves lapping at the rocks so lightly, with almost no sound at all. Looking to her left, there lay the small boat she had left. She grinned to herself, and held her side tightly. The wound still hurt, and the bleeding had just recently ceased. The night was not over. Thankfully, there weren't many clouds, and the moon's light gave her plenty of ease preparing for the travel across the lake. Her eyes peered into the distance, upon a city floating on the water: Lake-Town. The destination for her mission and the purpose for her crime, this was the place that it all began. A fire is renewed in her veins, and with livid bright eyes she growls out her words.

"Death's scythe shall take me before I fail…I _swear_ it."

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**Thanks for reading! (maybe review?)  
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	4. Under Lake-Town

**Hello Everyone! Thank you for reading this story! (I do not own anything from the Hobbit, but I do own my dear OC)**

**I want to thank my Beta JMac 322, for she helps me so much. This fanfic would not be nearly as good without her help.**

**Thank you all who are following/Favorited this story, it makes me incredibly happy.**

**Anyway, I hope this story takes you in a direction you do not expect and possibly makes you wonder. **

**Enjoy the chapter!**

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Chapter 4: Under Lake-Town

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Balin had seen his king upset like this before. The memory was not a pleasant one, and it too revolved around the Arkenstone. Thorin had sworn that the gold-sickness was gone, declaring that he had never felt a hint of it since the Battle of the Five Armies. His near fatal wounds had washed away any greed that was left in him and he only wanted his people to regain their place in the eyes of men and elves. Perhaps, Balin thought, Thorin has not fully sorted out his emotions since he felt such shame for his behavior from back then. _There may be the chance that it still flows in his veins…the sickness that has cursed his family's line._

"Balin, what are your orders?" A dwarf guard spoke up from behind.

"Prince Kili will lead a small speedy group down along the river. If chance is with us, then the thief will be caught, but otherwise Dwalin and myself will lead the rest through Dale, where some will be dispatched. I will go to Lake-town, and speak with Lord Bard to alert him to the situation immediately so that any trade or travel is halted." Balin stated firmly. "Gather ponies and torches for the road. Hurry!"

Balin watches the guards hurry to their duties as he comes up alongside his brother and Kili. Since Thorin had stormed backed into the mountain, the two were left quietly talking to each other.

"What did his majesty say?"

Both looked to Balin as if he was a calm, welcome relief, and Dwalin respond, "He wants the thief, preferably alive…so that he may be punished for his crimes."

"What type of punishment? The Arkenstone is our main priority; the thief may not even be alive by the time we find them. I believe being wounded and falling into that raging river is enough of a punishment...if they survived."

"Why aren't you taking Thorin's side?" Dwalin folded his arms over his chest. Dwalin gave him an inquisitive look, as if Balin was hiding something. "Did you not see how he was cut on his hand or how heated he was? Looked like could spew dragon fire himself for a while."

"Yes, I noticed." Balin paused. The thief, he recollected, seemed to not care for their own health. Any normal burglar is usually fueled by their greed and would abandon the loot if only to try again later for their well-being, but this one acted differently. The gust of wind at the stairs was something he had never seen in all his days. _No, this thief must be caught alive at all costs, if not for the stone, then for the mystery of who and what they are._

"Prince Kili!" Three sprightly looking young dwarves appeared and bowed to him. The oldest of them, looking a bit older than the prince, spoke again. "We are ready to depart on your word."

Balin breathed deeply and looked to Kili. "You are to take the river path, and follow it in case the thief is washed up on the shore. Take care though, and do not kill him. Quickly now, Kili!"

"Yes, lord Balin!" With that Kili and the others dashed down the path, making their way along the river's edge.

"Balin, I can't help but get the feeling that there is more to this than meets the eye." Dwalin muttered, only for Balin to hear. "Perhaps I have been around you too much lately. I am a soldier and usually just take orders, not thinking about why, but this thief…"

"I understand brother. I do not want to take any rash actions because our king is seething. We must keep our heads cool so that this mission doesn't fail."

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The night was still young and Balin was leading the group swiftly on the ponies through Dale. He ordered a few soldiers to search the city but also commanded there to be none that enter or leave without strict consent. The city soldiers were shocked to see the sudden visit, but took action without hesitation. The city was not heavily populated yet, so the task was relatively quick. Balin had become familiar with many of the leaders of Dale and trusted them to not betray them.

However, since the river did not run extremely close to Dale, he figured that the thief was not as likely to pass through it. The city of Dale was not a direct route to the lake, since it deviated to the east of the river. If the thief is traveling to Lake-Town, he reasoned, the best route is to go along the river where it naturally carves the path directly to the lake. Taking a large group on foot was out of the question for that path, because they would only follow the same path and be slower than a single traveler. The quickest option was to ride the ponies on the main road, and with that they could go directly to the ferry at the shore. _What if the thief had already gone across? No, the ferry would not go to the town for just one passenger in the middle of the night._

Thoughts continued to cross Balin's mind as the group galloped around a rocky bend and the lake came into view. There on the shore, directly along the path, stood a small hut, chimney smoking. Light was coming from the small windows, and anyone could tell that only one person, whether dwarf or human, could live in such a small place. The sound of the ponies' hooves had drawn the single resident's attention, and the door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged man with a mixture of stubble and beard on his face. His head was draped with a loose old hat, and a warm jacket covered a strong upper body, which was desired for a ferryman.

Balin and the others jumped off their ponies, tied them to the post, and marched to the man. He bowed with respect.

"How can I be of service, master dwarves?" The old man could sense the urgency.

"We need immediate passage. There is an urgent matter that must be discussed with Lord Bard. We will leave our ponies here with a guard, for our mission will hopefully be quick." Balin responded.

"Very well, all aboard and we shall depart right away!"

Just then, Balin heard gravel crunching in the distance. Through the moonlight, he and Dwalin could now make out a small group of dwarves rushing to the ferry's location, from along the lake shore. The moon gave Dwalin enough light to see, and he shouted to the newcomers.

"What news do you have, Kili?"

The group came up to a halt in front of Balin and with little breath left, Kili straightened up.

"We found a foot prints on the rivers bank not far from here." Kili was still taking deep breathes.

"…and?" Dwalin pressed, eager to know more.

"There was a small amount of blood, so we believe the thief was slightly wounded. The trail then follows the river almost perfectly, and when we reached the shore, we found that there was evidence of a small boat that was moored to the rocks. The trail was fresh, so we only just missed them."

Balin let a slight scowl show, "Then we will all quickly make our way to Lake-town now."

All the dwarves made their way onto the ferry, and after a minute they were on their way to Lake-Town.

Kili and Dwalin came to Balin's side, and Dwalin was first to speak. "So the young prince was able to slow down our thief after all."

"I did not think so when I originally saw my arrow graze them. To any dwarf that would have been just a scratch. The foot prints did not show any signs of disorientation on the entire trail either," Kili muttered to the breeze. Balin said nothing, and both took notice. His brow was furrowed in deep thought, remembering the thief, the strange wind, and the eyes that seemed to challenge anyone who looked upon them.

"Balin." Dwalin patted his shoulder, retrieving him from his thoughts.

"Yes brother?"

"We are almost there. Our first step is to request Bard to aid us correct?" Dwalin obviously sought to have Balin discuss the plans with him in great detail.

"Ah…when we arrive we must seek out Bard and persuade him to close off all exits until the thief is caught. Then, with the aid of his people, we will begin a thorough search."

Kili and Dwalin nodded to each part as Balin continued.

"I do not think our thief will attempt to sell or trade the stone in Lake-town since the people are loyal to Bard, and he, being on good relations with Thorin, would be alerted if anyone saw the stone …except maybe those two…" Balin trailed off his words and thought of those certain individuals in Lake-town. The two who had once been the master and henchman of Lake-town before Smaug was destroyed. They had become the ever elusive criminals of the town, but still held enough power to have a couple working under them.  
"If our thief is working for them, our mission may have become a bit more challenging." Dwalin snorted.

* * *

The thief swung the rope around the wooden stilt that held up the base of the abandoned house at the far edge of Lake-town. Grabbing the other end, she tied the rope to hold the boat in place. Adjusting the satchel on her hip, feeling the now familiar weight of the stone, she made sure the binding was secure. It was a miracle the Arkenstone was not lost in the river's torrent. The moon was straight above her now, which meant it was getting late, and in about four or five hours the sun would rise. She looked to her hip, noting that her one knife was all she had for an offensive, or defensive weapon. This night was not over yet.

After readjusting her scarf over her face and pulling her hood over the rest, she quietly dipped herself into the water. The cold liquid seeping through her clothes and onto her wounds made them sting again, resulting in a wince. The water was very steady tonight; there were hardly and waves and so the ripples she created seemed incredibly out of place. Letting go of the boat, she swam silently under the house's stilt legs.

The pitch blackness and dank smell of old wood mixed with the icy water made breathing difficult. She had to remember the correct passage through, or else she would lose the correct way to the metal grating.

As her hands reached for the stilts and pulled herself along them, she counted the lefts and rights until finally she could see the smallest light reflecting on the water's surface. The metal grating up ahead was very old which served to her advantage. Grabbing one bar at a time, she carefully pushed it up and to the left at a slight angle, and the bar fell out of place. She removed four bars, and with that was easily through. Swimming freely along the edge of the stilts to the town's main pathways, she peered around. Her entire body screamed at her to get out of the freezing water, for her bones felt the ice seeping into them.

With no one in sight, she swam to the closest edge and pulled herself out of the water, quickly hiding behind a corner of an alley and hoping to not have gained any attention. Again peering around the edge, she took in the surrounding area. This section of the city was not so burnt by the dragon, but most of the tallest structures had been crushed to rubble. Some small houses remained, but most had half fallen in from the past destruction. This area was obviously also being picked for spare parts. Doors, columns, or even glass for windows were missing. This whole part of the city wasn't residential anymore, since so many had taken up residence in the newer sections. Bridges were falling apart, and if one was not careful they would fall through into the water.

Finally she rounds the corner and makes her way down an old path. The path is littered with splintered wood and lined with buildings that are skeletons from the fire that had passed through. The walk took a while as she had to jump across a small gap in a bridge to reach the correct side.

After a while she turns past another partly destroyed wood structure and finally looks upon an old abandoned mill house. It lies on the corner edge of the town. _This is the farthest location from any other soul, _she mused.

Once again tightening the cloth holding her side's wound, and taking a deep breath, she moves forward. _I must not fail, I must not fail, I must not fail…_ repeating over and over in her head, she stands in front of the door.

There is no actual door, but a thick cloth drape. She barely touches it when a small dog runs out, panting with its tongue hanging out. The dog startled her a tiny bit, and she had to remind herself to breath and let go of the hilt of her knife.

The moon seems to shine behind and envelope her as she pulls aside the drape completely and enters the darkness. If anyone was concentrating on her eyes they would have seen them glow slightly, but now all she can focus on is the hardest part of her mission.

The wood floor is extremely dusty and creaks heavily with each step. In the back of the main room, there are the voices of two men. One sounds like a croaking frog with a slur, and the other like that of conniving weasel, which she felt described the man perfectly too. The two were discussing something in deep concentration with a single candle lighting the space, when they suddenly turned to the sound of her footsteps. The larger man, who had greasy long red hair which was balding on top, let a toothy grin fall across his face. He stood up straight and took a single step toward the thief. He held his arms open as if welcoming an old friend.

"Welcome treasure hunter. Are you here for your _true_ _prize_?"

* * *

**To be continued! **

**Thank you all for reading, now maybe a review of your thoughts of what may happen?**


	5. The Treasure Hunter's Weakness

**Hi everyone! **

**Sorry for the super long wait. I have been really busy with school, then family, then being sick from allergies. But here it is! A huge thank you to my Beta Jmac, she has great editing skills and this story would not be nearly as good without her. **

**Thank you to all the readers, your reviews make my day (and my week too).**

**Also things are finally happening for our dear Treasure Hunter that will move things forward. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 5: The Treasure Hunter's Weakness

"Welcome Treasure Hunter. Are you here for your true prize?"

The large man's face is filled with a vile type of glee as he eagerly looks to her. The shorter man, Alfred, is skulking behind his master wearing a look of distrust. The ex-lake master begins to fidget as he lowers his arms from his earlier welcoming, and he again stands next to his small table with the candle. The solitary light makes the shadows of the room jump and quiver, causing her to tense. The wood on the ground is extremely old and creaked with the slightest change of pressure. _This building is barely held together, it's a wonder this thing has not fallen apart. _This room used to hold more work benches meant for many workers, but all those benches and tables are gone, save for one long one in the center of the room.

"You have traveled far, Treasure Hunter. I am pleased to see that you have returned. After all, you would never fail me, would you?"

She feels the sting of her wounds, but even more so feels anger spark in her chest. She grips her satchel tighter. The man notices this movement and smiles again. Tilting his head towards her, he gestures with a wave of his hand.

"And, girl? Did you get it? Only when…" He is interrupted by Alfred, moving in front of him.

"Show us the Arkenstone!" he spits out. His lack of patience is clearly evident in his shaking fists at his side. He acts as if he is the true schemer, rather than the ex-lake master. His outburst causes the room to acquire a new silence, in wait for her reaction.

She carefully reaches for the strap of the satchel and unties it from her belt, where it had been secure and sealed shut since she first placed the stone inside. Holding the bag out in front of her, the ex-lake master's eyes narrow and a look of delight comes over his expression. Alfred, however, is not satisfied.

"Reveal the stone or we will not continue with the bargain."

"Very well…" she sighs.

While carefully undoing the seal on the satchel, she keeps her eyes on the two. Sinking her hand into the depths of the bag, she holds tightly to the stone and reveals just part of it from the opening. The Arkenstone gives off an iridescent glow that seems to radiate into the foul darkness of that building. Both men's eyes grow wide and their jaws drop. They are entranced by the stone's stunning beauty. The gemstone of kings is just a few feet from their hands. She looks to the ex-lake master and is disgusted to see that he is drooling at the corner of his mouth. Then she lets go of the stone and it falls back into the satchel. The two men blink, and it's obvious in their eyes that all they want is to look into that jewel again; it plagues their minds now.

Alfred, saying nothing, seems almost shocked to see such an amazing gem. The men had only heard the stories, and neither expected the Arkenstone to be more than just a big diamond of some sort. The ex-lake master stands straight again, turns partly, and nods to the darkness behind him. There are footsteps from the stairs behind him. In the dim light, she can see another tall man walking down the steps, carrying a large wrapped bundle in his arms. Beneath the cloth she sees two small hands peeking out. She grits her teeth together and almost hisses with anger.

"What have you done?"

The unknown man is standing by the ex-lake master, with a devilish look on his face, like a man who is about to be paid a large sum of money. The small child in his grasp is totally motionless, which causes her heart to speed up in a panic.

"Nothing, nothing at all, Treasure Hunter. Why do you ask? Oh, are you afraid we caused harm to your dear brat? Well don't get your britches in a bunch, we merely used a slight drug to quiet her down," the man sneers at her.

The ex-lake master now steps forward with the man behind him. He gestures to the long table in the center of the room with an almost practiced sweep of his hand, instructing the man to place the child carefully on the table. The child's hood falls back to reveal a young girl's face. The thief silently feels relieved when she notices the girl's chest rising up and down slowly in deep sleep.

The ex-lake master raises his voice yet again. "We have brought what you have asked for. Now…place the Arkenstone on the table and you may take the girl. This is your purpose, is it not? You must not fail her now." He grins and stands back with Alfred and the man with ruthless face.

She hesitates for a moment, but steps towards the table, the satchel in her left hand and her right hand slowly reaching towards the girl. She knows her heart is beating fast, and she is sure that they can hear every beat. _She is so close…_These thoughts keep pounding through her head. Her steps silence once she is right in front of the small girl. She is very tiny. Anyone at first glance would guess that she is a child dwarf, maybe eight years of age. Her face looks so peaceful, none would guess what she had been through…

"What are you waiting for? Place the stone on the table!" Alfred barks in his high voice.

"How can I trust you will not shoot me where I stand when I take her away?" she asks, her voice stern with spite for the men in front of her. The ex-lake master smirks.

"You will just have to..._trust_ me."

_That conniving weasel and that vulgar traitorous lake master…_ Carefully she lifts the Arkenstone out of the satchel, and its gleam causes all the men to gasp in awe at the flowing light. She looks at them then. Their eyes are filled with an insatiable greed and hunger. For an instant, they appear to be filthy dogs drooling for a meal. She takes a breath and looks down to the young girl. _What would she think of me if I did such a thing..?_

The stone is placed at the girl's feet. She steadily lifts the young girl's back up and holds her close to her chest. Softly she moves hair away from the little girl's closed eyes, noticing her small breathes from her deep slumber. She barely even noticed that she was held like a bag of potatoes earlier, so she would not notice much if she…

The thief throws an angry glare up to the men, swiftly clutches the girl close, and bolts out the door.

Barely a moment had passed when the men realize, from how quickly she moved, that she had taken the Arkenstone with her.

"Damn you! Catch her!" The ex-lake master bellows. Just as quickly, another man appears from the shadows, and the two minions, nearly twice the height of the thief, dart out the building. Alfred comes to the ex-lake master's side, spitting curses, and pauses but a moment to listen to his master.

"That vile, conniving thief will suffer for this. Kill them, kill them both!"

* * *

The cold is biting at the insides of her lungs. Each heavy breath rattles her brain with the increasing ice and pain. She had places the stone into a smaller pouch on her hip that is hidden behind her knife's sheath. She now holds onto the little girl with all her strength, or what is left of it. The route she will take has to be totally different. There is no way of her to escape into the channel's water without harming the girl or risking being caught by the men who she knows are following close behind. _I did not expect there to be more than one_, she grinds her teeth at this thought. _Nor did I expect myself to not follow through with the deal. But…what would she think of me if I told her I had to trade something I stole from a king for her safety? _Her mind wanders to the little girl. _Yes, I made the right decision, s_he concludes to herself. _I will not let such a disgusting man get his way._ She feels her conscience makes matters more difficult; she was unable to kill any dwarves despite the trouble it would have saved in Erebor. But then she is also unable to see herself giving the stone to that greedy man, at least, as long as she has the little girl in her care.

The night has definitely progressed and she is faced with the change in shadows from the full moon's light. Everything looks different, but she knows that as long as she heads along the main boardwalk, makes sure to stick close to the shadows and corners, she would hopefully get to the new section of Lake Town where the people now reside.

Her earlier wounds are now shooting random barbs of pain through her body. The injury on her side has reopened and is worsening. She can feel the wet fabric cling to her from the blood soaking it.

_Can I make it?_

_I promised to protect her…_

_Is that light up ahead? Yes!_

No real destination in mind, she slows her pace and turns along a corner. Right up ahead, just a few buildings away, she can make out the warm glow of lights. A little bit farther, she can actually make out the silhouette of a couple of people. She can already feel the reassurance of safety at hand, but it all crumbles suddenly.

Out of the shadows a large hand reaches around and covers her mouth as a muffled scream escapes her lips. She holds the small girl more tightly to her.

"Think you can do whatever you want, you little witch?" He growls in her ear. He holds a knife against her throat, and already she can feel its sharp edge digging in. Her scarf is being cut and she can feel the knife getting closer. Just then, the other man shows up and immediately grins at his partner.

"Good job, Rob! Now, where are you hiding the stone?" He starts to move his hands over her body, touching everywhere to find the stone. "When we find the stone," he says matter-of-factly, "we will make sure to kill you." She tries to struggle under his hands, but all that she can manage is a glare. "The little brat, of course will be put to good use. Men need some entertainment now and then…." These words immediately make her blood seethe and her eyes see red. The wind has begun to pick up around them…

"What is going on here?"

Two new men show up from the direction of the lights, both holding lances and wearing uniform garb from the city's patrol.

The man holding her stiffens and relieves some pressure from the knife on her neck. The one looking for the satchel mutters a curse, stands up straight, and turns to the newcomers. "Nothing that is of importance to you two fine gentlemen, only business. This one refuses to pay for the meal they got from our humble master, so we…were attempting to persuade-"

"For Mahal's sake, why is a knife to that one's throat?! And to threaten someone with a child! I do not believe your prattle. You are to come with us immediately!" the taller guard declares. This does not suit the thug who is determined to get his job done. He nods to his partner and without warning the knife is against her now exposed cheek. The point is pressed hard to her; she barely noticed the blood already dripping down her face. She hisses when the sting from the wound intensified.

"Release them!" the two lake-men demands.

Unexpectedly the man in front of her jerks violently, sways for a moment, and falls to the ground. There is an arrow in his front, right in his heart.

The man holding her panics and shuffles backwards towards the shadows. He still holds her tightly. Doe_s he mean to use us as a shield?!_

"Stay away! I will kill them both! I will do it!

He did not get that chance, however. At a different angle, from the shadows across the bridge, another arrow flies through the air in perfect silence. She sees it before she feels it hit him. It appears to come close to her face, but instead hits him square in the chest as well. His body begins to slump, but his grasp on her is still tight, just as his grasp on the knife is. As he slides down, the knife drags down and cuts into her shoulder deeply. The agony on her tense muscles is instantaneous, and she can't withhold the scream that tears through her. She shakes horribly and falls to her knees. Her head slumps and her grasp on the small girl's legs loosens.

The two lake-men are about to come to her aid when there is a shout from behind them.

"Stay where you are!" The man known as Bard is swiftly making his way towards them, but he is also accompanied by dwarves, one of which stands out to her. She remembers him; he was the one by the king's side, the one who had witnessed her power.

From across the bridge another dwarf appears; the one who originally shot at her on the king's road to Erebor. He is young and agile, _with a really good aim_, she adds mentally, thinking of her throbbing side.

"What is this? What happened?" The old dwarf speaks to the two lake-men guards, but before they can speak his attention is drawn yet again to her.

She can barely focus. There is too much pain, and the cold now makes her very sleepy. Blood is dripping down her arm and soaking through her garment. _What a mess this is. But that old dwarf, he has kind eyes, maybe I can…_

She lifts her face up to the old dwarf. Her scarf has fallen from her face, revealing blood streaked across her face from the fresh cut, blue lips from the cold and glossy eyes from sheer exhaustion. The old dwarf and the others portray mixed emotions. Some gasp, and others step back. The oldest has a look of pity and sadness.

_I must trust that they will not kill me, if only…if only they can forgive me…_

She still holds the small girl close with her one good arm. The child is already half on the ground since she let go of her legs, and even through all that has happened she is still fast asleep. Slowly she struggles to move her other arm, which is dripping blood from the wound on her shoulder, and with the last of her strength, reaches into the small pouch behind the sheath of her knife. Her hands tremble as she pulls the Arkenstone out. Lifting it up, the dwarves seem even more shocked now. She looks to the old dwarf and begs with her eyes.

_Please…please forgive me for the wrong I have done._

With that final action she loses consciousness and slowly collapses, the stone falling from her outstretched hand. The little girl lies next to her, still in her embrace.

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