Hobbit 1. Prologue

"There! Finished!" Bilbo Baggins leaned back in his chair, his quill placed back into its stand with an air of finality. His manuscript, the tale of his adventures 60 years earlier, was complete at last.

The old hobbit closed his eyes as the faces of those long gone returned to hover in his mind's eye. The two brothers, Fili and Kili, laughed with him at one of their own jokes. Bomber, fat old Bomber, shoveling in everything he could reach. Others flew past him in the blink of an eye, bringing tears to his eyes as he realized how dreadfully he missed each one of them. Finally, he reached the last remembrance of his long line of remembered friends: Thorin Oakenshield.

He recalled the fierce dwarven prince who'd led the small band of dwarves to reclaim the city of Erebor from Smaug. His long dark hair, the proud eyes, the powerful and strong body. Bilbo though back with melancholy on the King-Under-the-Mountain's final moments. No one had actually borne witness to the last words Thorin whispered into Bilbo's ear. Oh, certainly among his last words were those which Bilbo had relayed to the rest of the company. However, the last words the fatally wounded dwarf had whispered to the hobbit were of a rather different sort.

"Tell Lina to go on without me," Thorin had whispered. "Tell her that I will wait just beyond the Veil until she is ready to leave Middle-Earth and the halls of our fathers. Then we shall be together forever."

Thorin's voice had been shaking, both with the effort of drawing breath long enough to speak and with suppressed tears. As the dwarf's head fell back from the hobbit's ear and his final breath slipped out, a single tear had slipped from his clouded blue eyes and slid down the blood-covered visage. The sight of that single tear leaving a clear trail through the blood and dirt upon Thorin's face had embedded itself forever in Bilbo's memory.

"What am I thinking?" Bilbo exclaimed, sitting upright in his chair and picking up his quill again. "I have not nearly finished this tale, not without relating Lina's tale as well."

And so the old hobbit went to work, his quill scratching across the parchment's surface. It would be the final chapter he would write in this old book, the tale of Lina Firehammer.


	2. The Introduction of Lina

**Summary: The dwarves had few females among them, even fewer female warriors. When Smaug took Erebor, many dwarves died. On that day, the few females who survived had a choice to make: remain within their domestic duties as best they could, or learn to fight. Herein is told the tale of Lina Firehammer who changed her life, and that of a king.**

Lina was born as all female dwarves were, quietly and without a great deal of fuss. Her parents did not throw a celebration as they might have had she been a male. It was enough of a disappointment to her parents that they had a female child born to them, but even more that she was their firstborn. Even worse, her birth had been so rigorous for her mother that her mother would never again be able to conceive. With Lina's birth, all hopes for the continuation of her father's line had ended. No son would ever bring honor to the family, and no child's lineage would include the name of Lina's father.

So the young dwarven girl was born into the world a bitter disappointment and most unwanted.

Her father, whose name has long since been forgotten, indulged in his natural desire for alcohol far beyond the bounds of reason. In his most lucid moments, he was indifferent to Lina's existence at best, bitter and harsh at worst. However, when the strong dwarven ales had their hold on him, he was intolerable. Dwarves outside his household mocked him for his drunkenness, his pugnacity that led him to lose more than one fight he had instigated. Those dwarves on the outside never saw the horrors he was capable of while drunk. The true nature of his anger and rage has never fully come to light as none will give utterance to them. All any dwarf outside the household saw was the proud nature of his wife and daughter, who stubbornly insisted that frequently cuts, burns, and bruises were received in performing their domestic duties. If anyone suspected any culprit other than the one accused, they never brought it up.

Lina's mother, a quiet creature of lowly origins, was called Lorina. Despite her disappointment that her only child was a female, Lorina loved her daughter more than her own life. More than once a dwarf had noted that a slash that begun on Lina's body ended on Lorina's, as if the elder female had interrupted whatever event had caused her daughter injury. As her daughter grew, Lorina took great pains to teach her daughter the finest crafting skills she could manage, scrounging together what treasure she could to pay a master craftswoman to teach Lina her art. In this way, she ensured that her daughter would always have a skill to support herself, even if no dwarven man ever claimed her as his bride, something that, though rare, could and did occur if the girl's father was of little consequence.

When Lina was still in her minority, she gained fame within the markets of Erebor and Dale for her skill with all manner of craft. Her embroidered garments and tapestries were sought after by the wealthy of both folk. Her pottery was simple, but so elegant that it was said King Thror's favorite ale mug had been fashioned by Lina's hand. Every female, on her wedding day, wore a circlet of intricately interwoven metal bands created by Lina to hold her hair and veil in place. Though, of course, no great honor was ever given her publicly, but the esteem in which the people of Erebor and Dale held the young craftswoman kept her family in food and clothes while her father squandered what money she could not keep from him.

As for Lina, Lina was not shy. Oh no, far from it! She had inherited none of her mother's meekness and all of her father's hot temper. However, she had learned her mother's patience and rigid self-control at a very early age. Lina had discovered while still very young that it did not go well for her when she gave voice to her feelings, whether good or bad, before her father. With her emotions kept rigidly in check, Lina appeared to many of the dwarves to be unfeeling, and, therefore, unnatural. While revered for her skills with needle and thread, clay and slip, and metal and stone, she was shut out from most of dwarven society. Being neither male nor wealthy, Lina had no place among the respectable dwarves of Erebor.

And thus begins the tale of Lina Firehammer.


	3. The Birthday of a Prince

**Summary: The dwarves had few females among them, even fewer female warriors. When Smaug took Erebor, many dwarves died. On that day, the few females who survived had a choice to make: remain within their domestic duties as best they could, or learn to fight. Herein is told the tale of Lina Firehammer who changed her life, and that of a king.**

"Have you heard the rumors, my daughter?" Lorina murmured over her embroidery to her daughter. She shot a surreptitious glance over at her unconscious husband slumped in his favorite chair.

Lina followed her mother's gaze before replying.

"I have not. What rumors?"

"King Thror has become so enchanted with your pottery that he has chosen to make one of your mugs his chosen vessel for ale." Lorina fairly glowed with pride as she finished relating this latest rumor to her daughter. Certainly Dwarves, Men, and even Elves of status had taken notice of her daughter's work before. But to have the king take notice! If the rumors were true, oh the possibilities. Perhaps even escape from the life they now lived under Lorina's husband.

A small smile curved Lina's lips upward and an arrow of pride zipped through her. Even if it was simply a rumor, that her people were willing to believe her work was good enough for service to the king was enough for her.

When Lorina said nothing further, Lina returned to the small drawing she was making in the tiny book she'd commissioned from a fellow craftswoman. The design was six sided, six being a number chosen to represent power, masculinity, and responsibility. At the center of the design would be a golden stone much in the shape of the Arkenstone. The golden stone was chosen much as the number six, for its masculinity, its confidence, its success, and its power. The stone would also have six edges. Along the two uppermost edges, two blue stone would be set into the design: to give the bearer balance. Below the golden stone, would be three more blue stones symbolizing land, sea, and sky in addition to action. The five blue stones altogether would represent the five elements: water, wind, air, fire, and spirit. The blue color was to symbolize loyalty, honor, protection, and wisdom. Six stones altogether would be set into her design. The remainder of the space in the design would be filled with overlapping bands of metal.

The piece was designed to be a belt buckle, to protect the wearer and give him the benefit of the symbols contained within. Lina smiled at her completed design. She already had the stones, freshly cut from the best stone worker in Erebor. The metal she had forged herself. Now she needed only to put the whole thing together. Once completed, she intended to submit it anonymously, as many other craftswomen would do, to the collection of gifts for the celebration of Prince Thorin's twenty-fourth birthday.

As was tradition, the prince would select one gift from the anonymous collection to honor the people. If the gifts were of low quality, the royals selected the best gift and wore it only for the duration of the festivities before placing it with the other gifts in the treasury. If the gift was of high quality, the royal might choose to keep the piece for life. In any case, the anonymity of the craftswoman kept her both from ridicule if her gift failed or jealousy if the royal kept it permanently.

Lina hoped her gift would please the prince. She had taken precautions against anyone recognizing the piece as hers by having the stones for it cut at the same time as a number of others. The design was to be sent along with the buckle, to explain the meaning wrought into it, but also to keep others from ever stumbling upon the design in Lina's possessions.

That very night, when everyone had gone to sleep, Lina slipped away to her workshop to make the piece before delivery was required the following day. The stones fit into her design perfectly. It was as if the metal had grown in around them. Once completed, the buckle was flawless. Each stone shimmered in the light from the forge fires. The metal protected the stones from damage and the metal itself was nearly impervious to damage. It was a piece that could be worn both for show and for function. There would be no situation for which it was not suited.

Lina cradled the piece in her hands for a moment, thinking about the reasons for making it the way she had. Certainly a gift was required from her, but this piece far exceeded others she had made for Thror and Thrain in both thought and skill invested in it.

Her path rarely crossed with that of one of the royal family. In fact, she rarely saw Thorin. He had spent most of his years in combat training and learning to rule beside his father and grandfather. He only rarely descended into the marketplaces of Erebor. It was on one such visit that the young dwarven girl had first seen him.

Lina was different from other dwarven girls in one major way—many minor ways, but only one major way—that she did not actively pursue a mate. For one, it was not likely that she would be allowed to select a mate until nearly reaching her majority in another sixty years or so. For another, she simply had no interest in any dwarven men. Her own father's behavior had soured her against male companionship and left her without desire for a husband. Furthermore, no male she had seen to that point in her life had exuded the strength and power she desired in a mate. To have a weak husband was as much a curse as no husband at all for a dwarven woman. No, no male was strong enough or interesting enough to warrant pursuit as far as Lina was concerned. As far as she was concerned, there was not a dwarf in all of Middle-Earth who possessed the qualities she desired in a mate.

This belief she held until she happened to look up one day from her place in the market. She had been fitting a bracelet to a customer, adjusting the links to make it the perfect length, when movement caught her attention. Well, not merely movement as the market was constantly full of movement. This movement was more flurried. The other craftswomen and craftsmen were moving out of the way of a group of young male dwarves, bowing or curtsying as their gender dictated to the one at the forefront of the group.

Lina felt her breath catch in her throat. She felt as if she had been slammed into the living rock behind her. The presence of this obviously high-ranking dwarf was stifling. He was proud, and held himself thus. He was powerful and strong, moving with a grace and purpose belonging to one who was warrior-trained and highly skilled in that art. His dark hair flowed in loose waves around his head, and his beard, though not so glorious and long as other dwarves was clean and suited his face perfectly. But it was his eyes that caught Lina.

Icy blue and nearly as cold, they did not seem to miss anything. A frightening intelligence hid behind those deceptive blue eyes. They were hard and it was nearly impossible to meet his gaze without flinching. In fact, Lina saw many who tried and failed. They winced away from the ferocity in those eyes within a split second of meeting them. Yet Lina found she could not look away. The sheer power behind that gaze captivated her, heart and soul. The dwarf's eyes locked with hers, stilling the breath in her throat and setting her heart to racing. For what seemed eternity, Lina's gaze remained locked with his. Though she knew she should look away, that she never should have locked eyes with a dwarf of much higher rank than herself, she could not. Whether he held her motionless by force of will or her own intense interest in this dwarf bound her, she did not know.

The connection was broken as one of his companions who, oblivious to what was happening, stepped between them. Lina felt her body relax and she released the breath she had not realized she was holding in. She vaguely heard the dwarf's name—Thorin—and realized that was indeed who he was. The features he bore were very much like those of King Thror and Prince Thrain. Yet neither of them had captivated Lina's attention as Thorin had, for neither possessed the power and strength that Thorin exuded.

Lina dared not raise her eyes to meet Thorin's again, in part because she was of a rank far below his, but mostly due to the powerful sensations that had run through her body as their eyes met. She did not understand them. It was partly fear at how easily she had been captured. Yet they were also filled with an intense desire. A desire for what exactly, Lina did not know, but it was a powerful desire nonetheless.

The group passed Lina's stall by, and for once she was grateful that someone of high rank had passed by her stall without stopping. Had Prince Thorin paused, Lina feared she might have somehow made a fool of herself. She was thankful when the group had passed beyond the range of sight and hearing.

Lina smiled slightly at the memory. It was only a few years old. She had seen the young prince twice more since then, but was very careful not to meet his gaze on either of those occasions for fear of once more being captured. The buckle she had designed for his birthday this year was the result of her observations of him, of his power, and of his strength.

Like many of the other dwarven girls in their minority, Lina had fallen under the spell of Thorin. Unlike many of the girls who lusted only after the power he possessed as a prince and often dreamed of other dwarves they knew as their husbands, Lina desired him for the power and strength of his being. Though she never let herself dream that he ever would stoop to her level to—Valar forbid!—court her, she often dreamed of finding one like him. For the time being, she was at peace simply knowing that there existed at least one dwarf who possessed the qualities she desired in a mate.

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Lina quickly wrapped the buckle and the explanation of its meaning within a simple, unadorned piece of cloth. She shut down her workshop and slipped through the silent streets of Erebor to the place where craftsmen and craftswomen were to leave their gifts anonymously.

With her gift safely delivered, Lina retreated back to her silent house. For once she was grateful for her father's overindulgence in ale as he would have been furious to discover her sneaking back into his dwelling had he been conscious.

The next morning came earlier than Lina would have liked, but her excitement soon over powered her exhaustion. She could only hope that the prince at least gave her gift a second look. Even to catch his attention for a moment longer than other gifts would be more rewarding for her than if King Thror was to publically announce his usage of her pottery for his ale. After all, the buckle had been made specifically for Thorin. It would suit none other than he.

Lina's father awoke with a throbbing head which Lorina soon cured. Once his head was better, he was in much better spirits. The whole city was to attend feasts and parties the entire day to celebrate the prince's birthday. It was only on the occasion of a royal birthday that Lina dared to be herself within the house. It was only on these occasions—when everyone was to look their best—that he did not strike out at either Lina or Lorina.

Lorina's mother carefully plaited her daughter's thick blonde hair and settled one of Lina's own circlets around her head. She paused for a moment to look at her only child as Lina turned to face her. Her daughter was different in more ways than one from the other dwarven girls. Lorina had known that from the moment she first set eyes on her. Lina had far more delicate features that any other girl or woman among the dwarves. Her shoulders were broad, but not nearly as broad as those of most dwarves. Rather they were closer in width to those of a human girl. Her entire body was more slender than any dwarven woman Lorina had ever seen. Her nose was much smaller than any other. Though she was no taller than any of her dwarven year mates, Lina resembled a daughter of Men if she stood alone. She resembled the strong daughter of a farmer to be sure, but a daughter of Men nonetheless.

The crimson dress that hung on her daughter's frame brought out Lina's beauty in a way nothing else ever had. Lorina had made the dress and lovingly embroidered each silver rune on the hems of the sleeves, neck, and skirt. The deep red stones hanging from Lina's headpiece caught the light and glowed like flame.

"You look beautiful, Lina," Lorina whispered, brushing an errant strand of hair from her daughter's forehead.

"Thank you, mother," Lina replied, smiling at her aging mother.

"If only we could hide this," Lorina murmured sadly, trailing one finger along the still vivid scar that ran from Lina's temple to her jaw, missing her left eye by less than a finger's breadth.

Lina shook her head without responding and Lorina dropped her hand as Lina's father entered the room. He took one look at his daughter and wife in their best clothes and jewelry, grunted, and started out of the dwelling. The two women followed behind him, barring the home against intrusion before making the journey to watch the prince select his favorite gift from the craftspeople of Erebor.

As one of the craftspeople, Lina had been expected to make a gift and in doing so was allowed to be closer to the royal family than she would have otherwise. The massive gathering of dwarves was arranged according to rank. Dwarves of Lina's stature were lucky if they could even see the royal family from afar. But her status as a craftswoman placed her in a special, classless, group at the foot of the dais. It was a small honor the royal family paid to the craftspeople for the fame they brought to Erebor.

Lina stood, breathless as the gifts were brought out one by one and placed on a long table that was hundreds of feet long. Only the gifts from the craftspeople were present. Those from other folk were never shown publically as they did not showcase the skill of the dwarves as these select gifts did. She sighted her gift among those others made by the jewelers of Erebor, just on the boundary between ornamentation and function as she had intended. The last of the gifts was laid out and a hush fell over the gather crowd. Now only the royal family was missing.

One by one they entered the massive stone hall. King Thror was the first to appear. The people cheered wildly as the old king took to his throne, sitting beneath the Arkenstone. The thrones around him filled as Thrain took his place followed by Thorin and his other son.

The king waited for a moment, for the crowd to regain their quiet. Then he motioned to the Master of Ceremonies to begin.

"We are gathered together today, to honor the twenty-fourth birthday of our beloved Prince Thorin. In honor of His Highness' birth, the craftspeople of Erebor have created works of incredible splendor for his enjoyment. His Highness has agreed to select from among them the gift most interesting and suitable for himself," the elderly dwarf called out above the gather throngs.

The crowd roared to life as Thorin rose from his throne. The Master of Ceremonies gave a deep bow, as did those in the crowd. The prince nodded gravely and began the long walk down the line of gifts. He spared barely a glance at the gaudy clothing woven or embroidered by the craftspeople. The highly ornamental and barely functional pottery was left untouched. He barely kept his lip from curling in revulsion at some of the truly hideous sculptures of himself present.

Lina barely hid her own smirk of amusement at his reactions to the gifts. But still her heart began to pound as Thorin approached her gift. The belt buckle lay between the bright jewelry of the jewelers and the carvings of the wood workers. Beneath the buckle Lina's sketch and explanation of the buckle's meaning had been placed. She could just see the edge of the parchment from where she stood.

Thorin spared only cursory glances at the jewelry, sweeping on to the wood carvings. Lina's heart sank as he passed her piece by. Then, two full strides beyond the buckle, as if pulled back by an invisible hand, the prince turned and looked back toward the jewelry. Lina's pulse quickened as he moved slowly back down the line and paused over the collection of ornaments in which her buckle was resting. As if being controlled by strings, the prince reached out cautiously toward the buckle. He moved it carefully to one side so that he could lift up the parchment beneath it.

The gathered dwarves shifted and whispered amongst themselves. What was so fascinating that the prince had turned back to read a scrap of parchment?

Lina alone among the craftspeople knew what was written on that parchment. And so she held her breath as the prince carefully placed the parchment back down on the table and lifted up the belt buckle.

Thorin turned the piece over in his hands, examining it from all directions. His face did not change as he carefully looked at every aspect of it. Lina felt her heart leap as a small smile curved the corners of his mouth upwards when he touched the central stone and glanced over at the Arkenstone above his grandfather's head.

The dwarven prince looked out over the gather craftspeople, his eyes lighting on Lina. He glanced back and forth between the piece in his hand and her. Then his gaze locked with hers. The same sensations which had electrified her the first time her path crossed Thorin's returned with renewed strength. Without breaking eye contact, the prince removed his belt, handing both it and the buckle to a servant waiting beside him. Lina could not look away, so she could only assume that the servant was to attach her buckle to the prince's belt. For the longest time, Lina remained standing motionless and soundless in the crowd, Thorin's gaze steadily holding hers.

Whispers and murmurs filled the air as more dwarves began to take notice of the piece chosen by the prince. No one seemed to be discussing the connection between Thorin and Lina. Or, at least, Lina could not hear anyone discussing them. Then again, Lina could only hear the pounding of her blood in her ears.

The servant handed the prince back his belt, the buckle attached. It was only then that the prince broke eye contact with Lina so that he could fasten his belt with its new buckle around his waist.

Lina took the moment to escape from the crowd of craftspeople. They let her go, thinking that she, like so many others was crushed her gift had not been chosen, unaware of her true reason. Lina was frightened, more than she had been the first time her eyes met Thorin's. The sensations had only grown within her since that first look, not diminished as she'd expected. The terrible longing and intense ache she felt when Thorin's power and strength swept over her like a wave were too much for her. She had to escape his gaze or she felt she might suffocate.

The young dwarf wondered vaguely, as she lay in her bed staring up at the shadows flickering across the ceiling in the wee hours of the morning, if the prince realized what kind of power he had over her. She wondered if he even thought about her at all, or if she was just another face in the crowd. Lina's thoughts began to grow chaotic as the previous night's lack of sleep and the excitement of the day came down upon her all at once. She barely had the wherewithal to put out her candle before sleep took her.


	4. The Coming of the Dragon

Days flew by in rapid succession for Lina. They were mixture of excitement, pride, and long hours in the workshop. Since Thorin's birthday, the prince had never been seen without her buckle at his waist. It had not taken long for a few of the older craftswomen in the markets, upon slightly closer observation of the piece, to determine the maker's name.

Lina had suddenly found herself in possession of a veritable glut of business. Dwarves from Erebor, and even beyond, had suddenly appeared before her stall in the market to commission pieces from her. It seemed her work was too good to remain a secret for long. Her newfound popularity came with an influx of money. She was steadfast in her refusal to admit the buckle was hers, though many asked and were certain she was. To give confirmation would court disaster and jealousy for breaking the tradition of secrecy.

And so, driven by rumors alone, Lina's business in making beautiful yet durable ornaments for the dwarves boomed. Her list of orders for jewelry alone was so vast that her own projects with pottery and cloth fell by the wayside. Two assistants had to be hired to do the more mundane tasks Lina no longer had time to do herself. She did not let them actually make the pieces, or even help in the actual crafting process. Oh no, that would not do. The assistants did, however, run her errands to pick up or drop off orders at the miners' or stonecutters' stalls. They kept the bellows in her forge at whatever temperature she dictated best for a specific piece. They brought her fresh water to cool the metals in and kept the floor free from anything that might cause the focused craftswoman to stumble.

Lina was so busy that she did not have the chance to notice whenever Prince Thorin descended into the markets. He never stopped by her workshop as many nobles did to commission their pieces or to simply observe her as some did. She was never at her stall to do the small business transactions any longer, and so never knew if Thorin even passed her stall. Instead, her mother used Lina's place in the market to sell the small projects Lina thought were still beautiful yet not perfect enough for any of her commissioners, as well as selling her own embroidery and skills as a seamstress. Lina had been the one to offer the place to her mother, for it would give Lorina's talent light and temporarily rescue her from the heavy hand of her husband.

Each night Lina came home positively exhausted. Her new fame was draining on her physically, but it gave her hope and new confidence. Since the upper crust of dwarven society had taken notice of her, Lina's father had not dared vent his rage upon her or her mother. The old cuts, bruises, and burns faded, and no new ones were added. The long scar on Lina's face still marred its beauty, but it too was fading with time.

For this above all else Lina was grateful to Thorin for taking notice of her buckle. His simple act of wearing her buckle on a daily basis had brought attention to her and her mother, and so protected them from the cruelties of her father. Whether he knew it or not, Thorin was Lina's silent protector.

It became a rare day when Lina had the time to do anything other than work in her workshop. One such day, in which all commissions were completed and delivered, let Lina with the desire to escape Erebor and take some of her unsold pieces to market in Dale. Lorina agreed with her daughter's choice and decided to accompany her in order to sell her own works to the Men.

The two women dressed comfortably for the day was warm and bright. Their garments had been crafted by Lorina and were splendid to look upon. The pair arrived early in the market, before many of the stalls had been set up. This gave them a choice place to display their wares.

As the sun crept higher in the sky, turning the sky from dark purple to pink to blue, more Men, Dwarves, and Elves appeared to display their wares in the center of Dale. They were soon followed by a number of individuals interested in what was to be offered. Word quickly spread that Lina, the craftswoman rumored to have made the buckle chosen by Prince Thorin on his birthday, was present. The people descended upon the pair of female dwarves, buying much of their stock outright and commissioning further pieces from both.

Lina smiled at her mother between waves of customers. Their fortunes were changing for the better and already her heart felt lighter.

As darkness began to descend upon the land, Lina and her mother began to gather their few remaining wares along with the orders for more. The day had been profitable for them both and tonight they would rest easy, knowing, at least for a time, their fates were secure.

Then came the winds. Banners snapped and cracked as they strained against the ties binding them to poles. Thatch tore loose from the roofs of the nearby houses and flew across the market square. The trees swayed wildly, the bark and wood creaking and groaning to sound like the roar of a crowd above the town. The wind itself sounded like a million voices crying out in unison. The sound was so dreadful. The hair on the back of Lina's neck stood on end as she turned her face into the wind. Dread filled her heart as, over the cry to the wind and the people, she heard the roar.

A split second later the building to her left was engulfed in flames. People screamed and began to run. Lina caught her mother up from where she had fallen and fled the market square, heading toward Erebor. The town of Dale was ablaze as she struggled to carry her mother and the money her mother refused to release. The wood popped and shattered as the heat ate it away. Stone crumbled and dropped heavily around the two women. Some were not as fortunate as they, and were crushed by the falling stone and timbers. The fire needed no encouragement as it jumped from one rooftop to the next.

Lina somehow stumbled to the edge of the town with her burden, only to stop dead. The entire mountain was engulfed in flames. The trees were like torches, bathing the whole mountain in a glow like the sun at dawn's first light. The gates of the front hall were shattered. Flames bellowed from within. Dwarves, some unscathed and some ablaze fled Erebor. Their terrified screams filled the valley.

An icy fear gripped Lina's heart as she stared in horror at the burning city. Dragon. That could be the only explanation. The massive claw marks upon the stone face of the mountain, the deep gouges in the earth, the flames, and the roar could only be from a dragon.

Lorina's mother went limp as she fainted away in her daughter's arms. Lina seized the arm of a fleeing guard.

"Take my mother to safety," she ordered harshly. It did not occur to the other dwarf to argue. He simply lifted the unconscious female over his shoulder, her bag of gold and silver still clutched in her hands, and continued his flight into the hills.

Many others followed him. Lina had to fight her way through the frightened throngs to get close to the gate. Flames licked the stones around her. The king and his family were still trapped inside. She dove into the smoke, coughing as it burned her lungs and eyes.

She grabbed every dwarf she found and hauled him out of the city before returning to her attempt to rescue more. The blood pounded in Lina's ears as she ran deeper into the burning city. Her own home had been destroyed, smashed by the dragon's claws, her father likely still within. No tear touched her eye for him, for she had none, but her anger burned fiercely against the dragon for destroying her city, her home. At last she closed upon the royal compound. The dwarven guard lay all around her, dead. Most incinerated, others crushed. Near the entrance of the king's throne room, she found a dwarf in armor, bleeding but still alive.

"The king! Where is he?" she screamed at the dwarf over the roar of the fire. The dwarf pointed weakly to two figures appearing from the gloom. One she recognized as Prince Thorin, his determined face streaked with blood and ash. The other, leaning heavily upon his shoulder was King Thror.

Satisfied that at least the king and his grandson were safe, Lina grabbed the wounded dwarf and drew him to his feet. They staggered out behind the prince and king. Behind them the doors of the throne room collapsed, sending burning embers flying. Lina ignored the sharp sting of burning embers as they settled over her skin, shaking her head to dislodge the worst of them before they could light her afire.

Relief flooded her heart as the city gates swam into view through the acrid smoke. Thorin and his burden stumbled out into the daylight. Lina followed closely behind. A few dwarven guards at the gates drew the massive doors shut behind them as a ball of fire roared up from the depths of the city. The stone shook and rattled as smoke poured through the tiniest of fissures, but no flame escaped the now sealed city.

"Help us!" The hoarse cry was torn from the throat of Prince Thorin. Lina saw the heartbreak and anguish in his eyes at the destruction of his city, the pain his plea had caused him. She followed his gaze to the top of a nearby ridge. The ridge bristled with the spears and gleaming helms of King Thranduil's army of Elves. For a long moment Lina watched the Elf King. He remained motionless on the ridge, his forces arrayed behind him. Hope blossomed for one brief moment within her chest. Perhaps the city could be retaken before the dragon became too embedded within.

That hope was quickly crushed as the Elves turned and disappeared from view. Lina felt despair descend upon her. Her home, her city, was gone. Tears began to cloud her vision. She swiped at her eyes with one grimy hand and turned her gaze to Thorin.

There was rage, anger, absolute hatred. His blue eyes burned with his emotions as he stared at the spot the Elves had stood only moments earlier. He was humiliated. He had pleaded with the Elves for aid, lowered himself to that, and was rejected and abandoned. The Dwarves had been abandoned in their hour of greatest need. Thorin's building rage was broken momentarily by his grandfather's wracking cough.

He laid the old king gently down and looked wildly about.

"My father!" he shouted at one guard standing in motionless shock. "Where is he?"

"Here, my son," came the answer before the guard could even glance at his inquisitor. Lina looked down in bewilderment at the wounded figure in her arms. She lowered him to the ground and removed his helm with trembling hands. The bloodied face of the heir to the Dwarven throne came into view.

Thorin's expression changed to one of relief. His grandfather and father were both saved. His line was preserved. Lina felt the relief as clearly as her prince did. The dwarves would be able to survive under their leaders. At least that one thing had not been destroyed by the dragon.

Guards came to lift Thror and Thrain from the ground and bear them to a temporary camp set up somewhere beyond the hills. Lina was left slumped weakly on the ground. The adrenaline which had fueled her long enough to rescue some of her kin from the flames was fast vanishing. Her whole body began to shake with pain and stress. Her muscles were burning beneath her skin with the pain of overexertion. Her skin itself burned from the embers which had alighted upon her in her flight from the dragon. Her legs shook so much that she doubted her ability to stand.

As she began to collapse into unconsciousness, Lina felt herself being scooped up from the dirt and ash. Piercing blue eyes caught her attention for only a moment before the darkness rolled in over her. She knew nothing more.


	5. Freedom to Choose

**Author's Note: Wow! I'm so giddy and excited about how much you guys love this story so far. Thank you so much for your outpouring of love and support. **

**One reviewer brought up the question of Lina knowing the royal family was trapped inside. I guess I hadn't really thought much about it not being really obvious. I was going off the movie a bit with Thorin dragging Thror away from his treasure to escape the dragon. I made the assumption when I was writing that Lina, as many other dwarves might, knew about the king's "gold sickness." A combination of her knowledge of the king's love for his gold and the lack of royal presence directing those fleeing would have tipped her off to the king's whereabouts. Hope that answers your question. **

A sharp and unpleasant odor woke Lina from her slumber. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the moss covered stone above her head. Moss? There was no moss in her room. The continued unpleasant odor was not familiar in the slightest. She closed her eyes again in an attempt to fight down the panic rising within her. Nothing was familiar. Not the sounds. Not the smells. Not the sights.

"Ah, she's awake," a calm voice observed.

"Lina!" That cry was familiar and helped quell the fear in the young dwarf's heart. Lina opened her eyes in time to see her mother throw herself down beside her.

"You've been asleep so long!" Lorina whispered, tears welling up in her eyes as she stroked her daughter's hair.

"What happened? Where am I?" Lina croaked as she pushed herself upright from the pallet she had been lying on.

Her mother told her what she knew. A dragon, Smaug they called him, had been drawn to Erebor by the "gold sickness" of King Thror. As he had come, Dale had been destroyed and Erebor abandoned. If any dwarves were still alive within the city, they soon would not be. Those who had not escaped the city before the massive gates were shut were now trapped inside to die. Among those presumed dead or trapped were many of the craftspeople Lina had known, including the old dwarf who had passed on her knowledge of metal and stone to Lina. Lorina also spoke of Lina's father, but Lina had known he was dead when she saw her home crushed. The dwarves were now taking shelter beneath the rocky outcroppings in the plains to the north of Erebor.

Lina learned that she had been unconscious for several days now, causing some to fear that she would die from the smoke which had poisoned her lungs. Her long blonde hair had been badly burned by the embers. Most of it had been cut off, leaving it hanging barely past her shoulders.

At that news, Lina nearly sobbed. That blow hurt nearly as much as the loss of her mentor. To lose her hair was unspeakable. The men took great pride in their beards and their own hair. A woman's hair was her crowning glory as far as physical appearances went. Having one's hair cut was reserved as punishment for dwarven women.

Lorina did her best to soothe her daughter, to assure her that none would see her cut hair as a sign of disgrace, not right now. She accepted the pile of fresh clothing from the healer who had been tending her daughter.

"Get dressed, my child," she urged. Lina numbly followed her mother's instructions, pulling on the unfamiliar clothing. She carefully bound back what hair remained to her with the leather thong presented to her.

She wondered as she dressed what she would do now. Surely there would be no need for a maker of jewelry and ornaments. And without her father, as utterly useless as she had been, she and her mother had no standing among the dwarves. Without a husband, a son, or even a brother, Lorina had no clan to settle among. When the dwellings were allotted, she would be left until last. This left Lina in the same situation. Some dwarf might be willing to take them in. But at what cost?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a dwarf of the King's Guard appearing at the entrance of the small alcove. He motioned to the healer and they began to converse in hushed tones.

Lina watched the two males apprehensively as she cinched her leather belt tight around her waist, her fingers brushing tenderly over her buckle. The buckle was one of the few objects she had left to her name as it had been the only article she had worn that was not ruin by dragon fire. The buckle had been the first item she'd made when she received her own workshop. It was round, in the shape of a warrior's wooden shield. The shield was broken up into three concentric circles. The center circle was a blood red stone, meant to give courage and to symbolize survival. The next circle, or ring as it was, was filled with an intricate knot designed in the metal, meant more for beauty than anything. The outermost ring was filled with dwarven script, blessing the wearer with skill, imagination, and intelligence. Her fingertips nervously traced the familiar knot as she watched the King's Guard dwarf look in her direction. The healer nodded and the dwarf approached the two dwarven women.

"Prince Thrain desires to speak with you, young one." There was no sign in his voice or expression as to what the prince wanted Lina for. He simply motioned for the girl to follow him out of the alcove.

Lorina gave her daughter's hand a tight squeeze before turning to gather what few belongings they had left, as well as the money she had so fiercely defended in fleeing Dale.

The guard led the young girl across the sprawling dwarven encampment. Most of the dwarves were living under makeshift tents. The shelters like the alcove Lina had been in were left to the sick and injured. Now that she was no longer considered to be either, Lina and her mother would move out into a makeshift shelter of their own.

The royal guard caught the eyes of everyone they passed. Those eyes in turn fell upon Lina. Then the whispers began.

Lina's face turned crimson as she heard the whispers. The people wondered what she had done. What could she have done to deserve her hair being chopped short? What crime had she committed? The questions quickly turned to rumors. Lina had stolen from the King's Treasure when the rest were fleeing. She had murdered one of the guards helping the king while she was attempting to escape Erebor.

The rumors grew worse the further across the camp Lina followed the guard. The rumors seemed to move faster than the rapid pace the guard had set. By the time they had reached the ring of remaining royal guards surrounding the slightly larger outcropping the royal family was residing beneath, the common dwarves were actively stepping out of their path and turning their backs on Lina. The young dwarven girl was humiliated and being shunned for some imagined crime. Her face was flushed red with embarrassment, but she kept her chin up and her shoulders squared. She had done nothing wrong, and would not allow these people who knew nothing about her actions that day to bring her down.

The royal guards nodded to Lina's escort as they opened ranks to allow the pair through. Then they closed the opening once more. Lina felt slightly panicked the further they progressed toward the royal residence. They had passed through three ranks of guards already and were just reaching a fourth when the guard halted. The King's Seneschal stepped forward form behind the rank of guards. He gestured to Lina and dismissed her escort.

Her mouth went dry as this high ranking dwarf led her past the final guards and into the center of the king's camp. She was guided to the entrance of one of three overhanging rock ledges. The king's was obviously the larger of the three a few strides away. This overhang was the residence of Prince Thrain.

"The Dwarf Lina has arrived, My Lord," the Seneschal announced with a low bow. Lina quickly dropped into a low curtsy, keeping her eyes downcast as she had been taught was proper when greeting royalty.

"You may rise," the prince answered. He waved the Seneschal out of the alcove. Lina stood quietly before the heir.

For several long minutes, Thrain simply examined her. Then he motioned with one finger for her to turn in place. She did so, uncertain as to what he was looking for.

"They told me your hair had to be cut due to the amount of it burned," he said softly, as if to himself rather than Lina. Lina said nothing for she was not sure the prince's comment demanded a response.

"Your father is listed among the dead and you have no male kin. Is this correct?" Thrain inquired.

"That is correct, My Lord," Lina responded. She held herself stiffly, keeping her shoulders straight and her head high. It would not do for the prince to think she was helpless or looking for pity. After all, the only difference between her status then and now was her inability to name a male protector. Though her father had not been much of a protector, he had at least given his wife and daughter rank above the poorest wretches in Erebor. They could at least claim a lineage through him. That status was now gone.

"You saved my life. For that I am in your debt." Thrain rose from his chair a lifted a medallion from the small table beside him.

"For your actions during the attack, I am placing you at the head of your own family. Though you cannot claim any lineage of your own, you shall be free to operate independent of any male relative. You, who have no clan and can only marry into one, are free to do as you choose with your skills and your body. Your name will be called when spoils and lands are divided along with the others. Does this satisfy you?" Thrain finished speaking and paused a few steps away from Lina.

Lina could barely contain her surprise and joy. To be named the head of her family! It gave her freedom not allowed to many women of her kin. Dwarven women could only do what their male kin or husband allowed them to do. As the head of her own family, even once she was married, no male would have dominion over her as her father had. She was free!

"It does, My Lord," she whispered, sudden tears of joy pricking at the corners of her eyes.

A smile lit up the prince's face as he observed the reaction of the young dwarf before him. Those still in her minority, she would make a fine head of her house. If the scars on her faces and body were any indication, she was far more experienced in life than many much older than she.

"Take this medallion and wear it always," Thrain intoned as he placed the silver chain around Lina's neck. "It will let all who see it know that you have earned my favor. It will proclaim to all that your cut hair is not a curse or punishment, but a mark of honor for your bravery on the day Smaug attacked."

"Thank you, My Lord," Lina breathed, dropping into a low curtsy before him.

"You may return to your mother," Thrain told her, "One of my guards will escort you both to the place reserved for you."

Lina curtsied again and backed out of the presence of the prince. Once he had turned away from her, Lina turned and hurried back to her mother. Those who had whispered such malicious falsehoods were startled when they saw Lina returning from the royal camp bearing the mark of Prince Thrain's favor around her neck. Lina kept her eyes focused straight ahead of her. Her pride had been wounded, and she would not look at those who had accused her of such terrible crimes.

Lorina clapped her hands to her mouth when she saw the prince's mark around her daughter's neck. Only the heads of family had mark of the royal family. Marks were passed from one generation to another. New families were created only by performing some great deed in the service of the royal family. For most dwarven men this was easily achieved through battle. For women . . . well that had never happened in the history of the dwarves.

Lina gave her mother a tiny smile that promised to tell her everything later. The guard escorted them to the plot of land upon which they were to camp for the night. Once he had left them, Lina told her mother everything as they set up their small camp.

"I need to find a skill beyond that of a simple craftswoman," she confided to her mother. "Something that can support us and be of value to our people."

Lorina thought long and hard. Her hands deftly tied the corner of the roof to the stake she had driven into the earth. She had, over the past few days, been able to find out which dwarves had lived and which had died. A number of the masters of their crafts were dead, but their apprentices had survived. There was one ancient dwarf that might be willing to help them. With the mark of the royal family, he had to accept Lina on her own merits as he might any male dwarf.

"The armorer, Tion, is growing old and approaching death. His apprentices and sons were all killed in Erebor, and there is no other so skilled in the art of making armor as he. You, my daughter, have had some experience in forging metal. Perhaps he would be willing to take you as his new apprentice." Lorina looked over her shoulder at her daughter. Lina had paused in laying out their beds to listen to her mother.

Slowly she nodded. There was sense in her mother's words. The people needed someone to make armor. With the only surviving armorer rapidly approaching the grave, the people would need someone trained in that art quickly. She already had a head start when compared to other young dwarves looking for apprenticeship in smithing. After all, she had learned a great many secrets about smelting metals under her earlier mentor. That knowledge of metals alone put her nearly five years farther along than anyone else.

"I will visit him once our dwelling is set up," she told her mother. Lina now had a plan to go along with her newfound freedom. Things were beginning to look up.


	6. A New Beginning

Lina stood silently before the aging dwarf. His eyes looked her over, missing nothing. She was strong, that was to be expected in one who already had some experience in running a forge, even if it was as small as the one in her former workshop. There was a curious intelligence and maturity in her eyes that belied her young age.

"Why you?" he demanded gruffly. Tion had hoped to startle the girl with his bark. He was almost disappointed when she didn't even flinch.

"I am young and able to learn. I already have a great deal of the knowledge about smelting metals. I need only your wisdom regarding the creation of armor. Weapon makers we have in plenty, armors we only have you. Your apprentices were killed in Erebor, and you need to pass your skills on to someone. Why not me?" Lina reasoned.

Tion considered her words carefully. She was determined then to be his apprentice.

"Very well," he answered slowly. "When we have found a place to purchase the needed supplies for the new forge, I shall begin your training. Now, off with you!"

Lina's heart leapt for joy at his words. She was to be his apprentice! With a far lighter heart, she left the old dwarf to his list-making.

The nearest village that might have the supplies they needed was several days away. That gave her time to kill. Her mother had quickly found her place in the migrating dwarven company making and mending clothing. Several of the older female dwarves had joined her in this. The younger females, however, were either helping their mothers or wandering aimlessly about the camps in the evenings. They, like Lina, had nothing to occupy their free time.

"There are too few." For some reason this simple phrase caught Lina's attention. She looked around for the speaker and quickly identified the highest ranking member of Erebor's army to survive the dragon attack. He stood with his arms folded across his broad chest and scowled out over the ragtag bunch of dwarves. Some were very early in their minority still, barely of age to begin their training. Others were so old that they had probably retired from the fighting force at some point. At twenty-two years, Lina was still very young for a dwarf, but some of the minors before her were barely sixteen-years-old.

Lina watched as one of the smallest males attempted to swing a practice war hammer around his head in order to knock the head from a training dummy. The attempt failed miserably as the weight of the hammer pulled him backwards. The officer buried his face in one hand despairingly.

Squaring her shoulders, Lina strode onto the field. She plucked the hammer effortlessly from the youth's hands and motioned for him to leave the circle of dummies. Open mouthed, he obeyed. Drawing in a deep breath, Lina swung the hammer in a wide arc around her body at shoulder height, knocking the head cleanly from the dummy. She did not stop there. Continuing with the momentum of the hammer, Lina spun and took a couple of steps to remove the head of the dummy behind her. Her feet traveled in a pattern her fingers had only traced a thousand times before. The knot she envisioned in her mind was traced by the movement of her feet and the swinging of the hammer.

When she had traced the knot in her mind, Lina pulled the hammer to a halt. Her heart was pounding as the officer advanced upon her. His expression was forbidding. He seized the weapon from her loosening grasp and hefted it experimentally. Then his gaze slid from the hammer to the dummies around him. Of the twelve encircling them, only one still had its head on, but a massive tear had been ripped into the dummy's chest from the force of Lina's swing.

"Get me a proper hammer!" he shouted over his shoulder. Lina watched in confusion as the officer's aid scurried away only to return with a larger hammer in his hands.

The officer took the new hammer from his aid and thrust it at Lina's chest. She accepted the weapon, still confused.

"Reset the dummies!" he bellowed at the gawking recruits.

"Show me what you can do with a proper hammer, girl," he ordered gruffly. With that he stalked out of the circle.

Lina lifted the hammer experimentally, finding the balance of it. It was heavier, which meant it would be harder than the last one to get swinging and it would be harder to stop, but it would be no problem as long as Lina kept moving.

Once the dummies were reset, the recruits hurried to well beyond the range of the hammer's swing.

Lina swung the hammer in a circle around her head to get a better feel for its weight. It was heavier than she'd realized. The knot she'd used before would not work. This time she had to think on her feet and direct the hammer, not just use its own weight to complete the trial. This required more strength and skill than Lina believed she had, but it would not do to back down now.

The first head was sent sailing toward the recruits, scattering them in all directions. The second disappeared into the tents. A third vanished into the growing crowd of onlookers. By the time the twelfth had been sent sailing, Lina had grown tired. She forced the hammer to a halt, trying to make it seem effortless.

"What is your opinion, My Lord?" Lina was startled when she realized the Prince Thrain had appeared in the midst of her exercise.

"She'll do just fine, Commander," he answered, smiling broadly at the dwarven girl before him. "She'll do just fine."

"You, girl, have just volunteered for battle training," the commander informed Lina with a smile. "Your specialty is the war hammer."

Lina returned the smile, feeling somewhat faint. What had she gotten herself into?


	7. Heat Rising

**Author's Note: I just wanted to make a couple quick notes for all my readers. First, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! You have no idea how excited I am to read your wonderful comments. Second, I was on a three day break from work when I started writing this story. I now have a few days in a row where I will have really long days at work. I will try to get at least one chapter per day posted. I have another break coming up starting the 22****nd****. I hope to get my productivity up during that time. Continue reading and reviewing, and I shall do my best to get more chapters posted for your enjoyment. Thank you all again!**

The shop was sweltering in the heat from the massive forge fires. Sweat stung as is ran into the numerous invisible nicks and scratches across Lina's face. Her arms burned as she swung her hammer again and again, pounding the metal before her into the proper shape. But neither the burning of the sweat nor her muscles bothered her much. They rarely did anymore. That pain was so much a part of her life now that it was almost worrying to her when she did not come home tired and aching.

The pain was the only thing that kept her from the despair that gripped so many of her people. The pain meant she was still alive.

Driven from Erebor, the dwarves had become a lost and broken people. They dwelt now in the Dunland, barely surviving. Early on the journey, Lina had offered what money her mother had kept from their last day in Dale to King Thror to be used for the benefit of the people. Many others had followed her example. The money was put to common use in buying food and supplies. What little money the dwarves could bring in often went straight into food or clothes. They were just barely surviving.

The shear poverty they dwelt in now had driven King Thror to go off into the mountains with only a single companion. No one was quite sure where he had gone, but he'd been away for several weeks without word as to his whereabouts. Thrain ruled in his father's place until Thror would return. All the dwarves who had followed him in his wanderings worried for his safety.

As for Lina, Lina had taken over the position of armorer when Tion had died in an Orc attack a few years earlier. Her skills were highly valued by the dwarves, and it was said those who died wearing her armor were not wearing it properly. The strength of her arm alone kept the ragged dwarven army alive in the midst of battle. Armor purchased from cheap dealers who passed through often failed at crucial moments, ending more than one life too soon. Her wares were at least durable.

It had been nearly twenty years since the wandering dwarves had settled in Dunland. The rapid dwindling of numbers had forced a break down in their society. Many of the survivors had chosen to rejoin their kin under King Thror's brother in the Iron Hills. Lina had chosen to stay with the royal family. However, too few dwarves lived in this band for the society to function as it once had. The royals were no longer held so much apart from the rest of their people. Thorin and Frerin, Thrain's sons, were seen frequently at work among the people. Frerin spent most of his time with a few close friends trapping what game he could to supplement the meager stores of food the people had or working with the fletchers to replace the arrows lost in battle. Thorin often spent time making and repairing swords, knives, and axe heads in the same shop Lina used. As it was the only forge in the settlement, Lina often worked in close proximity to the dwarven prince. Thorin had become the only trained blacksmith the band of dwarves now possessed. Lina had become a passable weapon smith, but as she'd had no training in the art of weapon making, she often left that job to the prince.

Today Lina was thankful Thorin had other matters to attend to. The aura of strength and pride never diminished, no matter how downtrodden the prince and his people were. Those icy blue eyes still captivated her, forcing her entire being to still. Of late those eyes had taken to haunting her dreams. For all that she told herself she would not, could not, become attracted to the prince, she was failing miserably in the execution of her will. He still drew her as a moth to flame. The sensations she felt when trapped in his eyes grew steadily stronger with each passing year, never fading or faltering. She no longer feared that no male would ever choose her as his bride as she had once many years before, for that did not matter in the least now. Lina, like other women before her, was falling for someone she could not have. Therefore it was most unlikely that she would ever wed. No other being Lina had set eyes upon gave her the same feelings. No other could capture her attention the way Thorin had.

Thorin rarely spoke to her, though his eyes were often upon her. Lina most often heard his voice when he sang quietly over some sword or axe head. The song was always the same. It was one which had appeared within a few weeks of Erebor's destruction. It seemed to fuel many of the dwarves onward.

Lina often found herself singing the words as well, longing for her lost city. It calmed her, focusing her mind on the task at hand. But never did she sing in front of anyone else. Her voice was not one that was particularly suited to song. The dragon smoke she had inhaled while fleeing Erebor had permanently damaged her voice, not that she had any great skill before. Her voice was simply worse now.

Nevertheless, she sang, the ringing of her hammer against the metal punctuating each phrase.

"The pines were roaring on the heights, the wind was moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread, the trees like torches blazed with light," Lina sang. Her throat caught around those words as they always did. She could still see the town of Dale burning. She could still hear the terrified screams of her people as they fled Erebor. The pain for her, as it was for many of the survivors, was still fresh and searing.

She continued with the song as she finished shaping the helm before her.

"With foes ahead, behind us dread, beneath the sky shall be our bed, until at last our toil be passed, our journey done, our errand sped." Lina was startled into silence as a far deeper voice joined hers.

"We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!"

She slowly set the completed helm down on the anvil before her and turned to face the one who had joined her.

"My Lord," she murmured, bowing her head. Thorin stood just inside the entrance of the forge, watching her intently.

"You have a captivating voice," he informed her, leaning against a supporting pillar.

Lina blushed, but did not respond. Instead she tried to focus on the details of the next project she had. That was a difficult task indeed when his presence was overpowering her. The chills that ran through her body, the shivers racing up her spine, kept her attention wandering back to the dwarven prince standing behind her.

"I've seen you practicing with the warriors," Thorin continued. "You would be a formidable opponent on the field of battle."

Lina did not turn, but her eyebrows rose in surprise. To receive such a compliment from Thorin was no small achievement. Any who had watched him in the mock battles the warriors staged could see that he was one of the best ever trained. He had a rather unconventional fighting style and was notorious for using every little slip up or opening to his best advantage. Lina had never faced him before due to her limited time to spend on the field.

"You will flatter me into the grave," she responded, teasing the prince to hide her embarrassment.

"I highly doubt that," he answered gruffly, appearing at the edge of Lina's vision. He removed his cloak and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Lina watched quietly as he pulled a long piece of metal, destined to become a sword, from the pile along the wall. She noted with pleasure that he still wore the buckle she had crafted for him so many years earlier.

Lina quickly averted her eyes when Thorin began to look up. It would not be in her best interest to be captured in his gaze right now.

"Look at me." The order shook Lina to her core. Her eyes obeyed instantly, though she wished they had not.

The familiar shock raced through her being as their eyes met. Her mind raced and her pulse quickened. Did he even know what he was doing to her?

Lina barely noticed as Thorin set aside the metal he'd been holding, but she could not miss that he was drawing closer to her. His eyes never left hers even as he towered over her. Where Thorin was tall for a dwarf, Lina was considered short. She had to tilt her head slightly to keep the connection between them, peering up from beneath her eye lashes. Her heart rose into her throat as Thorin halted a few inches away. The sensations intensified as she felt the heat rolling from his body.

She could smell him. His was the scent of oak. It always was. It did not matter what he had been doing nor did it matter where he was, Thorin always smelled the same. It was an observation Lina had made a few years before when they had been forced close together in an encounter with goblins.

Every muscle in her body tensed and quivered as Thorin reached out to trace his rough fingertips down the scar Lina still bore from her father. Her breathing grew shallow and rapid as her heart rate increased. His fingers came to a halt just beneath her jaw for a moment.

His eyes became dark with some unnamed emotion. Then his fingers moved to lift her chin, tilting her head back further. His thumb brushed back and forth over her lower lip. For once an emotion became clear in his eyes. Lina had not seen much emotion from him since the moment the Elves had forsaken the dwarves. Now she saw it clearly. He was just as confused and as uncertain as she. The fear was there, and the desire. The connection maintained between them was affecting him as much as it was her.

Stooping slightly, Thorin captured Lina's lips in his. A jolt far stronger than any she had ever felt before ran through her body. The world faded into obscurity as Lina's eyes fluttered closed, leaving only the two of them. The hand Thorin hand placed beneath her chin shifted until it was cradling one side of her face. His other hand came up to cradle the other as his lips began to move.

In the entirety of her forty years of life, Lina had never been kissed. What she was experiencing now far exceeded even her most vivid imaginings. Lina would have gasped at the sensations rushing through her had she been able to. Instead what came out was a quiet moan of pleasure.

Thorin's lips moved from one corner of Lina's mouth to the other, tasting her, teasing her. Another moan came out against the prince's roaming lips. Lina hid the sharp pang of disappointment when he drew back. The heat rose in her already flushed cheeks as she opened her eyes and caught his satisfied smirk. He had drawn her into a vulnerable position, had heard a sound form her lips that no other was likely to hear.

One hand dropped from her face, but the other remained, stroking her cheek gently. Thorin's gaze softened as he met Lina's eyes a second time. Only a few years earlier he would have never allowed himself to kiss her, no matter how she affected him. Lina knew that she would never have let him come even close to her if they were still in Erebor. So much had change since then.

"You are most fair," Thorin murmured, still caressing her face. Lina could not hide her pleasure at his words as a smile brightened her face.

A sudden crash from outside the forge ended the moment abruptly. Thorin's hand dropped from Lina's cheek and he took a large step backwards. Lina turned her attention to the entrance of the forge, as did the prince beside her.

A breathless messenger stumbled into view.

"King Thror—is d-d-dead," he panted.


	8. Preparations for War

It was several days before the full story was circulated through the settlement. King Thror had gone off to Moria, intending to reclaim the city for his people. He and his companion had found the gates standing wide open. Ignoring his companion, the king had marched in with his head held high. Several days later, the companion saw the king's body being tossed outside. The head had been severed and the name "Azog" branded in dwarvish runes across the king's forehead. The king's companion had been paid—yes, paid!—to deliver the orc's message to the dwarves.

The orc's name was spat out like a vile poison whenever any dwarf spoke of the defiling of the king. The humiliating blow Azog had dealt to the dwarves would not soon be forgotten. No, never forgotten. He would be made to pay for his crimes.

Lina was constantly busy now. Her forge burned from long before dawn and well into the night. Some nights it never went dark. Armor had to be repaired, refitted, or made anew, and quickly. Thrain, after a week of silence, had declared war upon the orcs. His messengers were sent to all the dwarf clans, save for one which held an ancient grudge against Thrain's line. Lina was kept busy making armor for all the fighters in her small settlement. This now included four other females, all of whom were archers.

The armor of King Thrain and his two sons was the most important project Lina had. Their helms and shields had to be made anew. The metal scales for their tunics and the bands of their gauntlets and boots had to be replaced. These projects took Lina the most time. While all of her work was done to the best of her ability, she checked and rechecked the armor she made for the royal family. She would not allow their lives to end in battle through some fault in her armoring of them.

Her hammer rang against the metal she was pounding flat. The scales for the tunics would be cut from this material and attached to the appropriate garment: chainmail shirts for the melee warriors and leather for the archers. Many of those who would do battle with short swords, the smaller battle axes, and the single-handed war hammers and therefore be in closer proximity to their foes would wear a chain mail shirt over which a leather tunic with heavy metal scales attached would be worn.

The tanner appeared in the forge carrying the cured leather for Lina's use in the armor. She jerked her head at the work bench she'd cleared for it. The dwarf set the leather down and left without a word. He too was busy, tanning leather as fast as he could, but there was only so much he could do. The leather he was just bringing her had originally been intended for crafting into smaller objects to sell and had begun tanning two weeks earlier. Now it was being used for another purpose.

This leather was specifically for the royal family's armor. Lina had a special set of designs drawn up for them. She was going to make two different layers of scale leather armor and cement them together. The initially testing on a small scale had shown the four layers of metal and leather to be very strong while still maintaining optimal flexibility, even when worn over a chainmail shirt. She was not taking any chances with the safety of Thrain, Frerin, or Thorin.

Thorin. Her thoughts regarding armor were quickly diverted. She had barely seen the prince since the messenger had brought his terrible news. No sooner had the dwarf gasped out his message before Thorin was striding toward his father's dwelling. The messenger had left just as quickly, leaving Lina behind.

She was confused, and angry. Lina wasn't really sure why she was angry, she simply was. Perhaps it was Thorin's ability to simply forget about what he'd done to her that day. As soon as she thought it, Lina felt guilty. He had far more important things to think about right now. A kiss with the armorer was not as important as the preparations for war. Yet he still should have said something, anything. But what would he have said? Thanks?

Lina laughed bitterly to herself. Here she was, having been kissed one time, acting like a jealous wife because the one who kissed her was now involved in far more important matters. Perhaps the kiss meant nothing. After all, she'd seen more than one couple kiss in a far more passionate manner and then go their separate ways, eventually marrying someone else. Maybe he'd simply been curious about her, the only female head of a family.

But she was far more confused than angry. She could not make sense of what had happened, and was still happening, to her. She had no reason to desire the prince beyond the simple desire she had for a mate who was strong in both body and will. He was handsome, certainly. But that was no basis for the kind of marriage she envisioned having with someone one day.

Again Lina gave a bitter laugh. Marriage? She was thinking about marriage? Marriage to whom? Thorin? For one, they could never be. Even now, with their society so broken down, they were in two totally different worlds. Lina had earned no name in addition to her given name. Even as the head of a family she was no one. Her father had given her no name to carry with honor. No one even remembered his given name. For another, who would she marry since she could not marry Thorin? Half the males in the company did not approve of her, regardless of the Mark she carried. The other half were wary of her at best, absolutely terrified at worst. She supposed that kind of reaction was what one got when they brained a goblin with a shovel, especially when that someone doing the braining was a female.

"You have the armor ready, Lady Smith?" A voice broke through Lina's thoughts. The voice belonged to one of the young recruits in Thrain's army. The weapon master must have sent them to retrieve the practice armor she'd recently finished repairing.

"It's in the chest," she replied, gesturing with her hammer. Lina paused for a moment to help the two younger dwarves heave the chest onto their shoulders.

Watching them go, Lina was glad Thrain had given a three year period in which the dwarves would simply prepare for war rather than fight. To fight now would be devastating; costing far more lives than the battle would be worth. That was assuming they could even win at their present strength and state. The army was still too young and weak to survive long in a fight. They could barely hold their own against raiders. Few of the old warriors had survived the coming of the Dragon. Those who had were often too battered to be much use in a fight. A few were still fit enough to serve as trainers or officers. Most of the army now was made up of young dwarves in still in their minority, Lina among them.

The army consisted of a number of fighting units. Most of the new or the least skilled recruits were placed in the archery units or phalanx units. The phalanx allowed members of relatively equal skill, usually low when compared as individuals, to fight in a formation that prevented most of the deaths that would have resulted should any of those fighters try to do battle independently. The young ones often had the best eyes and best aim made excellent archers. There were, of course, those who wielded short melee weapons like short swords, axes, and single-handed war hammers. These were individuals who were strong in solo combat. The final group of dwarven warriors included fighters like Lina who carried massive two-handed weapons and no shield. Their weapon was their shield. In regular combat, the two-handed fighters were usually able to take on and successfully defend against three or more opponents.

In open field combat, the phalanx units were placed to either side of the solo fighters. This stabilized the line. Enemies coming in from the flanks were run into these sturdy and virtually immoveable units. Archers protected by the phalanx units could and did deal massive damage to the enemy long before the enemy could make a dent in the phalanx unit. The solo fighters were those leading the charge into battle. The two-handed users were fewer in number and so were interspersed through the group to make them more effective. Single weapon wielders could protect the two-handed wielders if the odds grew too great. Similarly, those who used the larger weapons could reach out, without breaking from their own battles, to rescue another before swinging right back into the fray.

Lina was especially adept at breaking through lines and creating paths to either advance or retreat through. Her weapon of choice, a war hammer longer than she was tall, had been used in smaller scuffles with goblins and bandits to devastating effect. More than one of the enemy's dead sported a crushed or split skull, depending on which side of the hammer he'd been on the receiving end of. Apparently the shattered skull of one goblin had inspired another of the younger dwarves to learn how to wield a two-handed war hammer.

Young Dwalin was one of the few male dwarves who were neither wary nor afraid of her. In fact, he had come to her of his own initiative to learn how to use the long war hammer. Lina had learned to use a two-handed battle axe in addition to the single-handed war hammer when she'd first begun her training. But as she grew more adept, she'd wanted to combine the length of her axe with the weight of the hammer. A weapon smith who had left the company long ago had obliged the young female dwarf by tailoring a weapon to her desires and her needs. He'd gone the extra step, teaching her to forge this one weapon herself. Now she was passing that knowledge on to Dwalin. He was nearly as skilled with the hammer as she was. However, he did prefer shorter weapons and throwing knives.

The sheet for the scales finished, Lina moved it aside to cool. She took a moment to draw a cool drink of water and stretched slowly. A vertebra in her neck popped. She drew her shoulders back, stretching her chest and felt relief as two ribs slid back into place.

From across the settlement, Lina heard the bell summoning the fighters who had no set jobs to the practice arena. It had been a few days since she'd last tried her skills in the practice arena. Lina glanced about the forge. She had no truly pressing projects as most of those had been completed already.

Her mind made up, Lina banked the forge fires and headed for the arena. The weapon master smiled when he saw her approaching. Lina knew that look. It meant she'd be up against a handful of fighters who were just learning teamwork.

A slightly sadistic smile tugged at her lips. This was a practice she would truly enjoy. For one, she was getting her frustrations out. For another, fighters who didn't know teamwork were worse than useless, and the weapon master encouraged his older fighters to beat the idea into them during a bout.

The weapon master nodded to Lina as she entered the arena and directed her to grab her practice hammer for this bout. The smith did as she was instructed, placing her heavier and far more deadly weapon in the rack, and retrieving a wooden weapon of a similar weight and size, but without the wicked spike on one end of the hammer head. This bout was only to teach some younglings a lesson, not kill or maim them. She pulled on the light armor used for practice only.

When Lina reappeared, the weapon master singled out three young warriors. All three had received extensive training in their weapons of choice, short swords for all of them. Now they were learning to work as a unit, being able to quickly find and defend their companions' weakness while exploiting those of the enemy. Only one group in Lina's memory had ever managed that feat, but they were unable to replicate it when the three were split up and placed in other groups for other bouts.

These groups never won a bout, most of them would be lucky if they learned their lessons with only a bruise or two. At least one dwarf had received a concussion from Lina's hammer, two others had fractured ribs from a fighter with a long axe, and another had received a broken wrist from a long sword. These injuries were relatively minor and usually avoided if the recipient did nothing incredibly stupid. Lina frequently had to pull her blows to avoid doing severe damage, even with her practice hammer.

Lina smirked as she watched the three chosen to face her. The weapon master had just given the command to begin, and they simply remained in their defensive stances. Individually and against another weapon of similar length, they likely would do very well, but against Lina, they were toast.

When the three remained motionless, their eyes darting back and forth between each other and their opponent, Lina decided to go on the offensive. This was a move she rarely had to make as most fighters, sure of their own skills, went up against her without hesitating and without thinking.

Wielding her hammer for the moment with only one hand, Lina brought the head around in an arc, smashing into the shield of the one on the far right. The blow sent him stumbling into the dwarf next to him, who in turn fell over, his helm rolling off and tangling in the feet of the third who was trying to keep from being knocked over by his companions' bodies. All three ended up on the ground.

Lina glanced at the weapon master who jerked his head sharply. She took that as her cue to make one final move that would drive home the weapon master's upcoming bellowed lecture. This time, using both hands, Lina raised the weapon above her head and smashed it down on the already battered helm rolling loosely on the ground between the legs of one fighter.

The helm ceased to be a helm with a sickening crunch as her hammer demolished it. The face of the young male dwarf between whose legs the helm had been went pale. His companions stared up at her with wide eyes.

"Get up, you idiots!" The weapon master stalked toward the three on the ground.

"There wasn't a single thing you lot did right! First, you were too close together. All it took was one swing and down you all went. Second, always be aware of your surroundings. At least one of you could have stayed on your feet if you'd been paying attention. That helm was simple to spot and avoid even with your companions fall down around you."

The weapon master sent the first group back into the ranks of fighters and summoned out three more. This group lasted slightly longer than the previous batch. However, the end result was the same. One had his legs swept from beneath him. The second was down with a blow to his midsection. The third, a female axe wielder, seemed so fascinated by Lina's gender that she simply forgot to parry an easy blow and found herself knocked end over end.

Lina wondered if all her bouts were going to be this quick and easy today. She was beginning to get bored. Other groups had, on previous days, at least been able to get a few blows of their own in before being knocked on their backsides. These groups weren't challenging in the slightest.

"Perhaps the Lady Smith would like a challenge." Lina, the weapon master, and his current batch of pupils turned to face the one addressing them. King Thrain was standing to one side of the arena, his two sons flanking him. Two more dwarves about the same age as Lina stood just behind the royal family.

Lina felt her breath catch as she observed the intensity in Thorin's eyes.

"Who did you have in mind to be her challengers, My Lord?" the weapon master asked, giving the king a bow.

"My sons and one of their companions. Live weapons."

The weapon master looked over at Lina for her approval of this idea. She gave a curt nod of agreement. The fighters excused her for a moment to retrieve her regular weapon and to change into her full armor. This armor was much heavier and far sturdier than the armor she'd been wearing previously. Where the practice armor was leather barely fit to practice in, her full armor had been designed and built up over the years to withstand most blades and absorb most blows.

Lina returned to the practice field, nervous butterflies fluttering about her stomach. This bout would be a true test of her strength as a warrior and as a smith. It would also give her a chance to find any weaknesses in the current armor of the royal family.

Thorin, Frerin, and their companion stood talking softly together as Lina approached the weapon master. She took the opportunity to size them up. Each carried a heavy round shield on their left arm, their right hand free to wield their weapons of choice. Their short swords were sheathed currently. In addition to their swords, each had a number of smaller hand axes tucked into the loops of their belts.

Lina knew her armor could easily handle the axes thrown at her without much fear of damage. It would still be wise to stay out of the way of the flying weapons though. As part of her own arsenal, Lina carried a smaller and lighter shield across her back and a smaller war hammer hanging from her belt. A number of throwing knives were tucked into various parts of her armor, easily accessible, but impossible to accidentally dislodge.

The three male dwarves spread out a bit, each ready to begin the bout. Lina readied herself for anything, balancing her hammer in her hands. Frerin came at her the fastest. He was the youngest of the three and by far the most impulsive. Thorin and the other dwarf flanked him, protecting his weaker left side and attempting to catch Lina off guard.

Lina's hammer crashed against the younger prince's shield, knocking him slightly off balance but not knocking him down. His companion lunged at his opponent, forcing Lina to deflect his attack rather than capitalize on the prince's momentary weakness. The head of her hammer took the dwarf's sword blow while Lina swung the lightly weighted end of her weapon out behind her to force Thorin to block her blow instead of striking at her as he was moving to do. Lina leapt backwards and Frerin and his companion charged at the same moment. As she did so, she thrust the head of hammer forward, catching the companion squarely in the chest. He fell backwards and was immediately defended by the two princes.

The bout continued, each one of the three dwarves skillfully attacking and defending. Their superb teamwork kept Lina from demolishing one of them more than once. She did see that her blows were beginning to take their toll on her opponents. Frerin was favoring his right leg after a blow she'd delivered which had knocked him to the ground and was unable to hold up his shield thanks to a swing that had likely dislocated his shoulder. A trickle of blood ran down the side Thorin's brow and was soaking into his beard after one blow of the hammer head had taken off his helm and a second with the butt of her weapon had split the skin on his skull. Their companion was getting a slightly cross-eyed look and staggering slightly under his own weight.

However, the bout had not gone entirely in Lina's favor to this point. Frerin had scored a strike across her chest, possibly cracking a rib with the power behind the hit. The pain made wielding her hammer effectively difficult. The companion had scored a number of smaller and lighter hits which had bruised her legs severely. The worst blow had come from Thorin. He'd used his shield like a battering ram at one point while defending his brother, slamming it into Lina's head, hoping to stun her long enough to end the fight. She'd managed to parry his sword and knocked him away from her, but the blow she'd received had done damage. Her helmet had cracked, the jagged metal edges biting viciously into the side of her face and neck. To keep the helm from doing further damage, Lina had knocked it off herself. The blood now caked one side of her face and the ring in her ear made detecting movement outside her hammer's reach nearly impossible on that side.

If she was to have any victory, she needed to take out at least two of them. Frerin and his companion were the obvious candidates. Thorin couldn't guard them both and still go after Lina. Frerin was the first to fall and not rise. When he overextended a lunge, Lina simply brought her elbow down on the back of his head, knocking him unconscious. His companion took a bit longer to down with Thorin able to focus on protecting him only. It turned out that Lina only needed to chase him in a circle a few times while deflecting Thorin's attacks before the companion collapsed in a dead faint from whatever damage Lina's earlier blows had caused.

Thorin leapt clear of his companion's body and drew away from that of his brother. Lina followed, both silently agreeing to allow someone remove them from the arena and further damage. The bout regained its former intensity once the wounded were taken from the field.

Lina tightened her grip on her hammer as Thorin came at her, trying to get under her blow and strike at her core. His strike failed to connect, but sent Lina stumbling back a few paces to get her weapon back into position to strike. He rolled to avoid the first blow, but lost his shield to the second. The heavy wooden disk bounced and spun across the ground. They both went for it. Lina reached it first and knocked it out of the prince's reach, out of the arena.

The young female tried to capitalize on her momentary advantage and swung her hammer in a rapid arc. The prince was ready, pulling a throwing axe from his belt and using it at the very moment her hammer had reached its peak velocity. If Lina did not release her hammer from her grasp, the axe would do her serious injury. The massive hammer soared through the air, slammed into the ground, and slid a fair distance, creating a deep furrow in the earth.

Lina spun once free of her hammer's weight, her shield receiving the axe with a dull "thunk." She rolled to avoid Thorin's sword swing, and came up quickly. Her shield was dislodged and in place, her small hammer in her hand before the prince could come at her again. A second axe sailed toward her. She knocked it away with her shield and swung at Thorin.

For what seemed hours, the pair traded blows. Occasionally one would connect. One of Lina's throwing knives had found a chink in the prince's armor and had cut his arm. Thorin's sword found the vulnerable place at Lina's side where her armor laced together and made a deep gash before she could retreat. But Lina's advantage with her massive hammer had been negated, and she was now fighting on borrowed time. Thorin was easily the more skilled in this style of combat. Lina was fast, but Thorin was far stronger. Even blows she managed to parry sent painful jolts running through her bones. One strong blow had forced her shield from her arm, leaving her to rely on her hammer and few throwing knives.

Lina's did not hear him coming, her ear still muffled with blood and ringing from the earlier blow. There was a sharp pain in her side, followed by a heavy blow to the back of her right leg. Unable to do right herself, Lina fell. Her hammer fell from her grasp and came to rest beyond her reach. Lina grabbed for a knife, but found she had none left. She felt the edge of Thorin's blade against her neck, and she froze. The blade forced her to look up at her conqueror. His blue eyes were devoid of emotion as he gazed down at her bloodied face. The tip sank slightly into her throat when she said nothing.

"I yield," she whispered finally. Those words tasted bitter in her mouth, but there was nothing more she could do.

Thorin pulled his blade away from his opponent's throat and sheathed it. Instantly healers were on hand to take the fighters from the arena. The weapon master collected Lina's hammers from where they had fallen while two others retrieved her knives and shield. The female recruit Lina had knocked end over end earlier helped support Lina as she hobbled out of the arena. But they did not escape fast enough.

"Taught that uppity girl her place," someone sneered from somewhere in the crowd that had gathered during the bout.

"She thought she was as good as a male," another smirked, "guess she's not."

Lina tried in vain to find those speaking, but could not. Her eyes caught Thorin's. He had heard the remarks as well. He turned his head away, ignoring what some of the dwarves were saying about Lina.

Anger boiled up within her: anger at herself for losing, anger at those chauvinistic old dwarves who still put her down, and anger at Thorin for agreeing with them by his silence.

Pain momentarily distracted her from her anger, causing her to sag against the girl holding her up. They reached the healer's chambers at long last. Lina barely made it through the door before she fainted and knew nothing more.

**Author's Note: This was supposed to be posted this morning, but when I reread what I'd written last night I hated it the way it worked out both timeline wise and relationship wise for Thorin and Lina. I spent a full nine hours at work, wracking my brain for ways to fix it. This is the result of those long hours of thinking. It's fully 3000 words longer than what I was originally going to post. I hope the wait was worth it for you guys. Let me know. **


	9. Learning to See

Within a week Lina was back at her forge. After examination by the healers, it had been determined that the worst of her wounds were bone bruises on her ribs. Most of the others wounds were easily stitched together. The jagged cuts on the side of her face would likely become permanent scars in spite of the healers' best attempts. She was cleared to continue making armor.

The sheets of metal she'd prepared earlier were ready to be cut and attached to other armor. This allowed Lina to work herself back into the use of her forge gradually enough that her ribs wouldn't complain as much. Each scale was cut, heated, and shaped into the proper form before being either secured to a leather tunic or a chain mail shirt. There were a few dwarves who would also need the scales place on their leather gauntlets.

As the forge heated up and Lina began wielding her hammer more, she began to feel more like herself. For a few hours at least, the rage that had been building within her began to diminish. As the pile of scales grew, a few of the older dwarven women would move them into baskets and take them to a nearby table. These women had volunteered to help Lina in any way they could, to help make her job go faster. Lina had carefully explained how to attach these scales to the proper armor pieces to Lorina. Lorina in turn taught other women. This made the production of the pieces far faster than if Lina did them alone.

Occasionally, the smith glanced over at the older women. They were laughing and chatting like they were sitting in their homes back in Erebor, not in a hot and dirty forge far away. She smiled slightly. Let them laugh and enjoy themselves. Many of them had offered her their aid as she lay in her mother's dwelling, recovering from her bout with the princes. They claimed it was to make her job easier, but she noted that the majority of the women in her forge were the wives of those dwarven men most vocally opposed to Lina. Those whose husbands were not so vocal about their disapproval were also present. The dwarven women, young and old, had banded together to show their support of Lina. The old helped where they could, with their time and hands. The younger ones began to volunteer for the army. A few were too young or entirely unsuited to fighting. These females were given other roles by the army commander. No one who volunteered was turned away. Even Dis, the sister of Thorin and Frerin, was in the forge this morning, laughing and talking as she attached scales to a piece of chain mail.

It seemed many women had watched Lina's fight with the princes and their companion. A number of them had heard the outright rude things said about the young warrior as she limped from the arena. Many of that same number had also seen the way Thorin had done nothing to silence those who had spoken against the female his father had chosen to lift up. While they did not understand why Thorin's silent assent to the words of the older males had cut Lina as deep as it had, they did know it had been in very poor taste for him to utterly humiliate her the way he had.

The laughing chatter of the women Lina was now used to hearing suddenly fell silent. She paused in her work to see what had caused them to go silent. Standing awkwardly in the entrance of the forge was Thorin. The expression on his face said it all. He had not been expecting this many women to be in the forge. Especially since his sister was one of them. The prince regarded the gather females warily, while they stared stonily back.

Lina caught her mother looking over at her. The older dwarf was wondering what her daughter wanted them to do. Dis did the same, turning from her brother to Lina. In that moment, Lina suddenly realized how much sway she held with the dwarven women. That they would look to her for guidance was a mark of esteem she had not realized she had earned until now. She did not look back at the prince standing in the forge entrance. Her grip tightened on her hammer and the steady, rhythmic pounding began again. The other women returned to their own work, and soon their laughing voices filled the forge again.

There were few times Lina was not in the forge. Rarely did she return to her mother's dwelling to sleep. If she slept at all, she slept on a pallet against one wall of the forge. However, she slept very little. She was still busy making armor.

When not making armor, she was with the weapon master, training quietly. Dwalin and a few others of the young males joined these training sessions. Most of those who trained with Lina were young females, all very green, but so determined to impress Lina that they worked far harder than their male counterparts. Several actually showed some skill with weapons other than the bow. The young female Lina had knocked over backwards on the day she fought Thorin had become a fearsome warrior with her axe. She was by no means the best, but she was very good. One was beginning to show signs of being a bladed staff-wielder. Her chosen weapon was a long staff with wicked blades at either end. Lina enjoyed working the most with her. With a little training, this girl would likely prove to be a valuable line breaker.

Months flew by like this. The stockpile of armor was growing rapidly. A second forge had been erected nearby to give the weapon makers a place to work that was not overflowing with females. By the time King Thrain had been on the thrown one year, Lina's women had made enough armor to supply his entire army, as small as it was, twice over and then some.

Many of the dwarven clans had begun sending in their responses to Thrain's call to arms. Entire armies began arriving. Once the leaders of these armies saw the armor Lina and her small band of women were churning out, they began clamoring for some of their own.

Lina slept even less now. Her training sessions intensified as she sought to build up her strength and skills. Her forge was almost constantly bathed in the orange glow of fire and heated metal. The healers aided her by providing foul-smelling concoctions to help her remain alert whenever she set out to complete one project or another.

Lorina occasionally informed her daughter that Thorin had appeared at one point or another during the day, only to leave when he saw the older females working beside Lina.

Lina wondered vaguely why he was even coming to the forge. After turning away from her like he had . . . That wound hurt far more than any other he'd inflicted. She'd been confused and angry about how he'd simply left her after that first kiss. Now she was furious. Some nights, when she was all alone in the forge, Lina allowed her rage to come to the surface. It was the only time she could ever express it without drawing well-meaning but irritating inquiries about her emotions. The healers were perplexed by her explanations for the broken skin on her knuckles, but simply put salve on them whenever they brought her their concoctions.

Tonight was not a night in which her rage came out. She was too tired to rage, too tired to do much more than work. The women had cleaned out her supply of scales earlier that day, and the demand for the scaled armor had increased again.

"Do you ever leave here?"

Lina didn't even flinch at the gruff voice behind her.

"Only on rare occasions," she answered, picking up her hammer once more to begin pounding out another sheet of metal for more scales. Lina tried to appear indifferent to Thorin's presence. That was difficult to do. None of the older females were around to draw his scrutiny away from her, and she could feel his gaze burning down on her.

For a dwarf, Thorin moved with incredible silence. Lina turned to pick up her fire tongs and found him seated on the table edge where the tongs had been moments earlier. She started at his sudden appearance, almost taking a step backwards.

"You're ignoring me," he said flatly. Lina saw the flickers of movement around his eyes and knew he was trying to capture her again.

"And you're distracting me from my work," she answered, finally locating the tongs on the table just behind and to the left of him. Lina felt torn around him. She wanted to acknowledge him, to acknowledge what he was doing to her, but she didn't want to be played for a fool. Never would she allow herself to become someone's plaything, to use and discard as they chose. After his rejection of her, that seemed to be what she was. In the moment that kiss had occurred, he'd been interested. When the older dwarves had turned against her so had he.

Without thinking, Lina leaned closer to Thorin in order to reach her tongs. His right hand shot out and caught her hand, pulling her closer to him and wrapped his left arm around her waist. She gasped in surprise as she was pulled away from her anvil. It had been a long time since anyone had been strong enough to pull her around like that.

"You have years to get caught up on it," Thorin informed her gruffly. "Your work will wait."

Lina looked up at the prince in bewilderment, her eyes inadvertently connecting with his. Her body trembled. She had never been touching him when their eyes connected before. His grip on her waist loosened, but not the grip he had on her hand.

"Are you afraid of me?" Thorin asked softly. He had felt the tremors run through her frame.

"No."

"Then why are you ignoring me?" His blue eyes continued to hold her gaze.

"I've been busy," she answered defensively. Thorin raised one dark eyebrow.

"You're not busy now."

"No, you're holding me too tightly for me to be busy doing anything," Lina pointed out.

Thorin chuckled at her retort. A smile lingered on his lips.

He looked different when he smiled. The power and strength did not diminish; rather the intensity in his gaze was tempered. Lina couldn't help relaxing a bit under his smile.

"You still won't answer me," he prodded. Lina felt the anger rising up within her again.

"Why does it matter to you?" she snapped sharply, attempting to pull away. His grip tightened again, holding her tightly against him. She saw the darkness gathering in his eyes, his own anger welling up to match hers.

"Did that kiss mean nothing to you?" he retorted. His blue eyes bored into hers as his grip tightened.

"Answer me!" he snarled. Lina found her strength and jerked away from him. In an instant she had placed her anvil between them. Her hammer was still clutched in her hand, ready at a moment's notice to become a weapon with which to defend herself.

Thorin rose from the table, his hands clenched at his sides. He took a step toward her, but stopped when she lifted the hammer warningly. There was no doubt she would fight if it came to that.

"Did it mean anything to you?" she asked. Her gaze was defiant, daring him to make a move.

Thorin forced his hands to relax and hang loosely at his side as he considered his response. He did not understand what had happened. One day she moaning in pleasure as he kissed her, the next she was ignoring him whenever he tried to approach her.

"Of course it meant something," he muttered gruffly. "I don't usually go around kissing random females."

"You'll forgive me if I doubt you," Lina answered.

"What reason have I given you to doubt me?" Thorin was nearly shouting. He slammed his fist down on the table. The wood groaned under the abuse.

"You turned your back on me," she spat. "You've heard what they say about me, you heard what they said that day. By your silence you were agreeing with them!"

Thorin's expression changed abruptly from one of anger to one of confusion. Then the confusion cleared. He understood.

"Oh," he whispered faintly. Apparently it had not occurred to him that the criticism of Lina were far more devastating to her than they seemed to him.

"I've done everything in my power to earn my place," Lina whispered, all the anger and frustration pouring out. "I have fought and bled beside you in battle against those that would harm our people. I have gained fame and reputation for our people. I've worked hard for what little I have. Every ancient pig who thinks he can control me and finds out otherwise decides to put me down. I've been shunned by males my entire life, and I am tired of it!"

Thorin was stunned by her words. He had not realized how cruel the men really were. As far as he was concerned, Lina had earned her rights the day she rescued his father from the Dragon. However, most of the other dwarves had not seen her actions at all. They did not know what she had done to deserve her freedom.

"I am sorry," he answered, bowing his head to her. Lina felt some of the tension drain from her at his words. Her hammer lowered until it came to rest on the anvil.

"It had not occurred to me that other males would question your position in our settlement. The matter was closed when you received the Mark as far as I was concerned. My father had granted you status on level with any other male, and I did not question it. I never realized until they spoke out what you were facing, and I did nothing to rebuff their attacks. For my gender, and for myself, I apologize." Thorin finished speaking, his eyes once more locked with hers.

Lina saw the shame in his eyes as he spoke of his gender's cruelty toward her.

For a moment they were both silent, simply staring into the other's eyes. Then Thorin began to move, slowly reaching out her. His hand caught hers and gently drew her toward him. He placed his free hand at the small of her back, pressing her against him. The hand holding hers raised and pressed her hand gently on his shoulder before leaving it there. His now freed hand caressed Lina's cheek much as he had been doing before the messenger had interrupted months earlier.

"You are captivating," he murmured finally, breaking the silence. His work-roughened fingers trailed over her scar time and again. They brushed lightly over the new scars from her shattered helm.

"I had not intended to do you such injury," Thorin told her ruefully. "I had not meant to add scars to your lovely face."

A small smile of amusement appeared on Lina's lips at his words. Before her life was over she would doubtlessly have a thousand more, far worse, scars. That was the life she had chosen to lead.

After a moment Lina found the courage to move the hand Thorin had pressed onto his shoulder, to lift her other hand from her side to touch him. The hand on his shoulder crept upwards to play with a strand of the prince's dark mane. Her other hand came to rest on his chest, just over his heart.

For the first time, Lina was able act freely while still in Thorin's gaze. She slid her hand beneath the edge of the vest he wore, pressing her hand flat against the shirt separating his skin from hers. Through the fabric she could feel his heart beating, steady and strong. The fingers running along her face stilled as Lina gently massaged the back of Thorin's neck.

His eyes closed, inviting her to continue her ministrations. For the first time, Lina had the luxury of simply examining Thorin without being captured. The small smile on his lips had transformed a face which, years earlier, been almost frightening. His broad brow was relaxed in this moment, unfurrowed by troubles or worries. His eyebrows, thick and dark, lay quiet. A long, sharp nose divided his face. His smiling lips were thin, but they were so full of expression. Lina blushed as she remembered just what those lips could do.

As if he read her thoughts, Thorin's eyes opened. His hand grasped the back of Lina's head and pulled her face to his. Their lips met in a far different fashion than the first kiss.

Lina felt the fire kindling in the pit of her stomach as Thorin hungrily kissed her mouth. There was still tenderness, but there was more to it this time. There was an intensity that had not been in the first kiss, a hunger.

To her surprise, Lina found herself answering his kiss, her lips moving of their own accord. Her fingers tangled in his dark hair, holding his head nearly as tightly as he held hers. Her other hand slid up from her chest to brush lightly against the underside of his jaw.

Finally Thorin broke off the kiss, but he did not draw away from her. Rather he leaned his head gently toward hers until their foreheads were touching. His breathing was ragged, and his pulse throbbed wildly beneath Lina's fingertips.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he managed after a moment. He lifted his head to look at her.

"What was me?" Lina asked, cocking her head slightly to one side.

"The buckle," Thorin said. "You made it, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I thought as much," he answered, a small smile caressing his lips. "I knew it was yours when I saw the look in your eyes as I examined it. Why did you make that particular piece?"

"I wanted to make something for you," she answered slowly, carefully choosing her words. "Not simply make something and give it to you, but to make it for you. It was to represent the strength and power that I saw, that I see, in you. I wanted whatever I made to be something that did not look out of place on you, but to look like it belonged. It had to be something strong and durable, yet beautiful to behold."

Lina stopped speaking, watching the prince for his reaction. A soft look passed over his face as she gazed up at him.

"Thank you," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

"For what?"

"For seeing me."


	10. The Uncertain Night

**Author's Note: I came home from a crumby day at work to 22 reviews! Thank you guys so much for making my day better! **

Lina looked up from her anvil and watched briefly as a line of wounded dwarves were carried past her shelter. She recognized one of the males as one who had trained with her. His face was contorted in pain; an orc arrow protruding from his side was the reason.

He was one of the lucky ones. Of those doing battle down in the tunnels, trying to find some weakness in Azog's defenses, far too many did not return. Sometimes the band of dwarves was successful in driving back the orc warriors, but even these victories were costly. Too few were ever left after a fight to capitalize on any advantage. The victors did what they could in bringing back the bodies of their fallen comrades. In battles the dwarves lost, there was no percentage on survival. If the dwarves were lucky, they might find the bodies later in one piece. If they weren't, well, entire bands of dwarves were missing and never a sign of their existence found.

Lina had been part of a group who'd barely survived an orc ambush in one of the tunnels. Her skills as a line breaker had allowed the survivors to escape above ground. Of the twelve warriors who'd made up her band, only three had survived. Half of the group had gone down in the initially attack. The fighting and subsequent retreat had claimed three more. A desperate swing at a stone pillar by Lina had collapsed the tunnel on their pursuers, allowing her and the two dwarves with her to escape. Most groups were not so fortunate, and many a band had disappeared underground. Very few made it out of such situations like the one Lina had escaped and made it out alive.

"Another twelve warriors missing."

Lina glanced over at the female warrior entering the forge. In the past couple of years, Lina had befriended a number of the younger female warriors. Ira, the female axe wielder who'd escorted Lina from the arena after her bout with the prince, had been the first Lina had accepted as a constant companion. The female had long since grown out of her hero-worshipping stage, becoming a fierce warrior and loyal friend.

"Anyone we know?" Lina asked, setting aside her hammer.

"Not this time. They were Blacklocks," Ira replied, setting her blade on the rack beside Lina's hammer.

Lina nodded. A twinge of guilt appeared at how calloused she had become. A glance at Ira showed the same conflicted look in her friend's eyes. They were both relieved that the missing warriors were not their friends, but both knew that those missing had been someone's friends.

"Rumor has it there's going to be an assault on the east gate," Ira informed Lina. Lina looked up, her brow furrowing with concern.

"We don't have nearly the strength to make a full frontal assault. The promised troops from the Iron Hills still haven't arrived," she answered. It didn't make any sense to her.

"We can't wait for them any longer," Thorin said from behind her. The two females both started at his entrance.

"We are going on a full offensive then?" An uneasy feeling began to grow in Lina's heart as she waited for the confirmation she knew was coming.

"We have to. We're wasting our troops in these tiny underground battles. The groups today were out collapsing any tunnels that might allow the orcs to get in behind us," he replied. "Patrols confirmed their success, in spite of our losses. We move out in two days."

"I'll make sure the girls have their armor repaired and their weapons sharpened then," Ira announced, rising from the chest she'd been seated on. She nodded to Lina and gave a small bow to the prince before departing the forge.

"We've had six years of gradual losses. Do we have the strength to go against the entire orc horde?" Lina leaned against the edge of her table, folding her arms across her chest. Thorin joined her.

"I don't know. We've never had an accurate count of Azog's strength, we've been shooting blindly at targets since the beginning of this campaign." The prince sounded as worried about the coming battle as Lina was. Neither feared their own death, rather they feared the death of their people.

"Does the king have a plan in place to protect the line of Durin?"

"He does. It's partially the reason I've come tonight. He's summoning the line breakers after he makes the announcement to the rest of our number." Thorin turned to look at the female sitting beside him. She wore a worried expression on her face. Very few of the line breakers had reached their majority yet. It was a dangerous job, and one that had cost a number of lives already. An entire generation stood to be wiped out in this battle.

A bell toll rang out across the vast dwarven encampment. They were being summoned.

Thorin's large hand gently squeezed hers in reassurance as he rose. His eyes were tired and sad, but they still held hope. There was still a fire burning in them.

"We will win this battle," he murmured, drawing Lina close. "We must."

He pressed his lips in tender reassurance against hers before turning to answer the bell's summons. Lina watched him go to join his father and brother before she banked the forge fires and moved to join her friends.

A number of Lina's friends had gathered at the edge of the meeting field, waiting for her to arrive. Dwalin was standing beside Ira. Kira, Ira's sister and a wicked swordswoman, was present. Ona, the bladed-staff wielder Lina had trained with, hovered around the fringes with a pair of male line breakers, her brothers. The group greeted Lina with nods, their faces grave. Ira had already let them know what was going on.

The small band joined the gathering dwarven army. On a small ridge, the rulers from the various clans had assembled. Thrain and his two sons were in conference with the clan leaders of the Firebeards. The Firebeards were mostly phalanx units. Lina figured they'd be the ones used to hold the line and haul it forward.

As a line breaker, Lina knew that she and her fellow line breakers would be in the thick of the fighting. She just didn't know how Thrain intended to use them just yet. Very few of the other commanders had line breakers in their ranks. The broken nature of Thrain's society had forced him to break from a traditional army make-up in order to keep his people alive. Line breakers were odd fighters, not usually put into units, but working best on their own with a single goal. This required independent thinkers, which many commanders discouraged in their armies, at least among the lower ranks.

The commanders motioned for silence and explained the gist of their plans to the gathered warriors. There were a few murmurs of surprise, but most were of resignation. They had all known the push was coming eventually. Now the dread of the day settled in. Thrain called for his line breakers to gather at the center of his clan's camp. The other commanders called for certain members of their own forces to gather before dismissing the whole gathering.

Lina, Dwalin, Ona, Ona's two brothers, and a few other dwarves broke off from the masses of dwarves returning to their tents. Upon arrival at the camp center, they were escorted into Thrain's war tent.

"I have a special plan for you," he announced once everyone was present. "As you know, our army is small, but we are strong. We have the best chance of shattering the enemy's line and so we are to lead the charge."

Lina's eyes shot to Ona. They knew what was coming now.

"You've all trained in some form of line breaking. You know who works best with whom. Therefore, I request you tell me which groupings are the best to use." The king looked directly at Lina when he finished speaking. He somehow knew Lina was the unofficial leader of the band.

"For myself, I work best with Ona and Dwalin. The three of us have trained together for nearly seven years now," she finished speaking and looked to Ona's brothers. They picked up where she had left off. All told, there were six groups of various sizes among the line breakers. Experimentation with the gathered fighters had placed them in the groupings which they declared to the king. These were the sets that would be best together. Each group knew their companions' strengths and weaknesses better than they knew themselves.

Thrain nodded as he absorbed the new information. Then he began to assign each of the six groups to their place in the battle. Ona's brothers and their two companions would be in the group leading the charge with Thrain. All four were skilled in penetrating an enemy's front line to get to the more valuable targets which is what Thrain intended to do. Lina's band was assigned to Frerin. He was under one of Thrain's senior commanders who were to spearhead a separate column. Lina's job was to protect the younger and more impulsive prince. He was known to break plans at the slightest provocation. It would take the best line breakers to follow him on his wild charges and be able to pull him out again. Thorin was in command of another group of line breakers. His group was to play rearguard for the most part. Thorin could hold his own as a fighter and was far more level-headed than his younger brother. The line breakers with him were mostly to give him a retreat option should he deem it necessary.

Lina accepted her assignment with a bow to the king. She requested Frerin join her line breakers for a few hours following the meeting, to bring the prince up to speed on his line breakers' capabilities. The prince agreed to meet them in the forge.

Once dismissed, Lina , Dwalin, and Ona retreated to the forge. They had much to discuss. The prince had to know exactly how his bodyguards, which is essentially what they were, operated. Lina and Dwalin were both skilled with the massive war hammers Lina forged. Each could easily clear a path in a melee with one swing of their weapon. Ona used her bladed staff to widen the path further. Her wicked blades took out anyone attempting to close the gaps opened up. In smaller battles and in practice, the trio had found that using Lina and Dwalin in the first and last positions of the lineup was best. One of them would begin opening the path, Ona would widen it significantly, and the other would play rearguard. In the case of a charge and wanting to open a path for advancement, Lina and Dwalin took the lead with Ona behind them. In the case of retreat, one opened, Ona widened, whoever was being escorted came next, and the last guarded.

When Frerin appeared, the trio briefed him on their skills. He seemed to accept their presence. Lina took the opportunity to inquire after the state of his armor. It had to be repaired or strengthened. Nothing could be left to chance.

The meeting ended later that evening. Lina sat alone in her forge, checking over Frerin's armor for weaknesses. A couple of scales had to be replaced and some leather reinforced. Dwalin's armor, as well as Ona's, rested on the table beside her. Lina wanted these pieces checked over and finished tonight before the rush of requests arrived the next morning.

Lina had hoped the work would quiet the fears which rose in her mind and heart, but she was wrong. If anything the search for flaws in the armor made the fears seem larger. Her fear was not for herself, though she truly did not wish to die. Her fear was for those she left behind. Her mother was one. Lorina had been left with many of the other noncombatants back in Dunland. If any of the dwarves returned from this battle, if Lina was not among them, would they still treat her mother with courtesy? Would Lorina be able to support herself and survive?

What of Thorin? His survival was as questionable as Lina's was at that moment. She knew that he, like his father and younger brother, would be driving deep into enemy ranks to find and kill Azog. The question of who would get there first and whether or not they would survive weighed heavily on Lina's mind. In leading the charge, the dwarves under King Thrain's command would have the greatest chances to earn honor in combat, but they were also the least likely to survive. Thorin was the most likely to survive of his line. His father was driven into this war by grief and would go into battle consumed with rage. Whether that rage would blind him to reason Lina did not know. Frerin was impulsive and far more swayed by his emotions than either his father or his brother. He might start the battle calmly, but there was no telling what would set him off. Lina's band of line breakers would have their hands full with him. They could not let him get too far from them in the thick of the battle, and he was known to leave his guards far behind when he spotted what he wanted.

What would she do if Thorin did not survive? Lina tried to push that question from her mind. Of course, Thorin would survive the battle. . . . But what if he didn't? The question nagged at the back of Lina's mind. Since that night nearly ten years ago, they had carried on a quiet romance. Neither let on what was happening between them in public. To do so would cause a scandal of epic proportions. But quietly, hidden from prying eyes, the pair spent their free moments together. Mostly they talked while working on small projects. The subjects varied. One night they could be discussing the strong desire they both had to return to Erebor. The next they were discussing improvements in Lina's armor. Occasionally the talking took a more personal turn.

Lina had once, out of curiosity, asked what their relationship actually was. The question had startled Thorin. They soon came to the conclusion that any relationship beyond that of mere friends was utterly impossible. A deep sadness had settled within Lina's heart as the reality of their situation came to light. Both had agreed it was best to end any notion of romance between them. That agreement had lasted only a month before neither could stay away from the other. They were fast becoming friends, but mere friendship would never satisfy either of them.

Their relationship had maintained the same speed over the next several years. The pair met quietly and secretively. It was no secret that they had become friends. Anyone could see that. Following Thorin's realization that the other males did not accept Lina as he did, he was frequently seen supporting her in public. She, in turn, supported him in any way she could. But the fact that their attachment to one another ran far deeper than anyone might have guessed was hidden from view.

Those discussions late into the night invariably took a more physical turn. Both had agreed early on to certain boundaries in the relationship. Lina longed for a relationship that involved her heart and soul in addition to her body. That desire kept Lina from compromising herself. Thorin was surprisingly willing to agree to her terms. He was a very physical being, and that played out in their relationship. He loved it when Lina ran her fingers through his shaggy, dark hair. What surprised Lina the most was how much he enjoyed her playfulness, something she'd never been allowed to express as a very young dwarf in her father's house.

The first time, she was nervous. Lina had never been allowed to wrestle with other children. So her natural playful tendencies had been buried. Now, she was given more freedom to express herself and her desires. When she had seen Thorin sitting quietly on the floor with a piece of scrap leather, attempting to figure out what to do with it, she'd had an overwhelming desire to pounce on him. He seemed far too serious for someone examining a sorry-looking piece of leather. After a moment's deliberation, Lina tackled him. At first he'd been surprised and startled. He lay quiet for so long Lina was afraid he was annoyed with her. She'd started to crawl off of him when he'd responded by dragging her down onto the floor with him and pinned her.

These wrestling matches were as physical the pair allowed themselves to be. Lina rarely won the matches as Thorin was far stronger than she. It spoke to the trust between them that she never pushed him too far and he never took advantage of her beyond a few stolen kisses. Lina found herself aching for more, but she could not give in to those desires. If something should happen, and how far their relationship had gone, became public, it would destroy them both. Even if it never became public, Lina would know and the knowledge of how she had betrayed her beliefs would eat away at her. If there was ever to be a truly physical aspect to their relationship, then there had to be marriage. Lina could imagine giving her body to none other than her husband.

Lina paused in her work and stared at the tools in her hands. Husband. She did not need one. She could easily take care of herself without a husband. Thrain had seen to that years ago. Yet she wanted one. Not one like her father had been to her mother. Not a master like many tried to be to their wives. She wanted a partner. Someone with whom she could she could share every part of herself, and expect the same in return. That man could not be just a lover, but he had to be a friend, a partner. After a life spent hating males for what they could do to her, for what they had done to her, Lina had found one worth having.

Her mind returned to the question that haunted her. What would she do if Thorin died? She would go on as she had before she'd set eyes on him. She would survive as she always had, through her own strength of body and mind. The loss would hurt, more than any blow she'd ever received, more than any cut or burn or betrayal. It would hurt, but she would go on. There was no other option. Thorin had told her that it was her strength as a woman alone in a world of men that had drawn him to her initially. It was her strength that had drawn him as much as she had been drawn to his power. No, she would never dishonor him by rolling over in defeat. If he died on that field of battle—and Lina prayed he would not—then she would go on living to honor his memory.

The last piece of armor was deemed to be in excellent condition. With that Lina set aside her tools and wandered through the silent camp to the tent she shared with Ira and Kira. She was exhausted and the battle had not yet begun.


	11. A Stolen Moment

**Author's Note: For those of you confused by the when everything is taking place in the story I will try to clarify. The timeline for Thorin's life is extremely spread out and vague. I didn't want to be trying to fill every single day of their lives with a story, so I try to make it clear when things were happening. Thorin is obviously 24 in the first chapter he's mentioned in. He's 44-45 when he and Lina kiss for the first time and when they have that fight in the arena. He's 45-46 when the two make up. He's 52-53 when Thrain announces the assault on the east gates of Moria. The ages aren't actually as old as they seem, Thorin at 53 is still considered a minor by dwarven standards. Fili and Kili who were in their 70s and 80s during the quest to defeat Smaug were still considered minors, and Gimli at 64 was considered too young to accompany his father on the quest. Thorin ends up being nearly 200 years old when he finally dies in the Battle of the Five Armies. So in order to avoid becoming too dull and repetitive, I've picked key moments in their lives to represent. Thus they end up rather spread out. To make things clearer in the future, I will posting the years the events take place during at the start of the chapter. Hope that helps everyone. **

**Date: TA 2799, on the eve of the Battle of Azanulbizar.**

The camp was silent. It was the quiet before the storm. Only tents still stood. Most of the temporary shelters had been moved closer to where the battle lines were to be drawn. Lina's forge had been packed away the moment the last of the blades had been sharpened and the last pieces of armor repaired. Movement around the tents was minimal.

From where she was sitting, Lina could see a handful of sentries appearing now and again between the tents. The hill where her forge had once stood was now empty and Lina had no reason to be there, but she couldn't go back to the tent. Her hands were shaking, her entire body quivering. She didn't want Ira or Kira to see her like this, to see her losing her calm on the night before battle. They would mistakenly think she was afraid. Instead she sat under the full moon's light, trembling.

No, Lina was not afraid. In some ways Lina was looking forward to the battle. It would likely be the one chance in her life to silence the doubters. She would prove her worth to everyone or she would die in the attempt. Not fear, but anxiety. She was anxious to begin what would probably be the worst day of her fifty years of life, to begin so that it could end. Not knowing who would or would not make it back to the camp was tearing at her. She wasn't sure how to react. Was she supposed to say good-bye to everyone as if she or they were never going to return? How was she to laugh and joke with someone who might very well not be there when everything was said and done?

"I thought I was the brooding one between us," Thorin commented, coming up the hill beside her.

Lina gave a small breathy laugh. She tried to hide her trembling, tried to still her body. He noticed any way.

"The old ones say it's normal," he muttered, sitting next to her and taking one trembling hand in his.

"I'm not afraid of dying," she whispered, looking over at him.

"I know. You're afraid of who won't come back at end of it all." He shifted so that he could reach both of her hands and rubbed them gently between his own. Lina nodded miserably.

"I don't know who won't be coming back. I am no seer," Thorin murmured, "But I do know that I will be with you always. I will never leave you, no matter what happens to me."

Lina's throat closed around the words she was trying to speak. The fear of losing Thorin was overpowering her. She could barely breathe.

Thorin saw the anguish in her eyes as she looked at him. In response he pulled her close, cradling her against his broad chest. Her trembling fingers found and clutched the edges of his coat. She could hear the beat of Thorin's heart, could feel the warmth radiating from him, could smell him. Every little thing she tried to lock into her mind. Thorin seemed to be doing the same. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in deeply.

"I love you," he breathed against her ear. Lina's head shot up at his words, narrowly missing his nose.

"You what?" Her heart was pounding now.

"I love you," Thorin repeated quietly, seriously. He locked his gaze with hers.

Lina reached one hand up to stroke the side of his face. He loved her? In the nine years they'd carried on their quiet romance neither had dared say those words. Lina had certainly thought about saying them a number of times, but each time she'd thought better of it. After all, how did she know this was really love? Was this what love felt like? Being torn apart inside at the thought of losing them? How could such a horrible feeling be used to describe something so beautiful?

Thorin simply watched her eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching as he saw way her eyes were rapidly shifting as they always did when her mind was racing. She was trying to process what he had said.

The thoughts slowed and ceased to run in circles. She loved him. That realization came crashing down on her like an anvil. Once Lina had thought it impossible for her to love anyone. She'd had no friends as a child, no one to show her love beyond her mother. Most of the time she'd been indifferent to comings and goings of those around her. She'd cared for her people, but she'd never had anyone get close enough for her to love. Now someone was close enough to love, and he loved her.

For an instant, Lina felt time freeze around them. Then she seized his face between her hands and kissed him hard. Thorin's eyes widened in surprise briefly, but he took her action as a good sign. He did not resist as the weight of her against his chest pushed him back onto the ground until she lay on top of him.

Slowly, Lina pulled her mouth back, opening her eyes to gaze upon Thorin. He smiled up at her and reached up to tuck one of her temple braids back behind her ear.

"I love you too," she breathed.

"Good," he murmured, pulling her back down for another kiss. One hand gripped the back of her head, the other around her waist. Lina's fingers tangled in Thorin's dark hair as she returned the kiss. She gasped as his lips began to travel from her lips down her neck. The hair on the back of her neck rose at the sensations and her body trembled.

The prince teased her with his lips and teeth, drawing small moans from her. Lina felt the fire growing deep within her. Her breathing became rapid and shallow as he continued. At every gasp and moan she could feel him smile against her neck. She felt as if she was floating. Her body was so light and tingled under his attentions. Then his lips wandered their way back up her neck and along her jaw until they reached hers.

This kiss was softer and more soothing, drawing Lina back to earth. Her body trembled as his fingertips caressed the spot his lips had only just left. That small smirk played with his mouth as he watched her. Lina felt almost embarrassed and ducked her head slightly. Thorin caught her chin before she could hide her face. He brought her face back up to his.

"Don't be embarrassed," he told her. "I was attracted to your strength, but I love this soft side of you too. If I am to love you, I want to love all of you, not just one side of you."

With those words, Thorin placed one more kiss on her lips. The kiss was tender and chaste, but it imparted emphasis to his words and had as great an impact upon Lina as any kiss he'd ever given her before.

"I love you, Lina."

"I love you, Thorin."

His hand closed over hers and remained there until the sun peaked over the horizon, the dreaded day dawning.


	12. The Battle of Azanulbizar

**Author's Note: Sorry for making the last chapter so short. I just felt the need to write a quick little moment between Lina and Thorin. For those of you who, like me, enjoyed reading through Appendix A at the end of **_**The Return of the King**_**, this battle is actually written about. Peter Jackson has this battle depicted in a much different way in the first Hobbit film. I'm hoping to find a happy medium between the two versions to depict. **

**Date: TA 2799, The Battle of Azanulbizar. **

**Thorin: 53 years old. **

**Lina: 50 years old**

Lina slid the long braid of her hair through a slot in her helm, adjusting the sky blue ribbons she'd entwined in the strands. Ona wore similar ribbons in her hair and Dwalin had them flying from his helm. The trio used the ribbons to easily locate each other in combat. Other line breaker groups used similar methods to keep track of each other. Ona's brothers and their companions painted green streaks on their helmets and shields. Anything that might help them survive and accomplish their goal was needed.

The trumpet sounded far off in the distance and was echoed by others throughout the camp. It was time to go. Lina nodded to her two companions, and, picking up their weapons, they made their way to where Frerin stood waiting. The other line breakers were gathering around their assigned commanders, all armed to the teeth and prepared to do damage.

Other warriors passed them in reporting to their assigned positions. Ira and Kira gave Lina and her band of line breakers the two-fingered salute which had become common within the circle of friends. The salute was returned and the women marched on. There was nothing more to be done, nothing more to be said.

Last minute adjustments were made to armor and weapons. The warriors shifted restlessly, impatient to be on the move. They had thrown themselves into this war heart, body, and soul. There was no turning back for any of them now.

Lina watched as Dwalin spoke quietly with the young dwarven prince. She was counting on the camaraderie between the males to temper Frerin's impulsiveness. Hopefully they would be able to head off any problems before entering battle. Fate was already set against them. The day had dawned bright, but the clouds had quickly rolled in to obscure the sun. A bitter winter wind whipped through the valleys, biting at any exposed skin. Fingers grew numb quickly and fumbled with weapons or armor. It was an ill omen of the day's events.

A gauntleted hand settled on Lina's shoulder. She turned to find Thorin standing there. Their eyes locked and the familiar jolts raced through Lina's body. They did not speak, there was no need. The only thing communicated was clear in their eyes.

_Live._

A second sounding of the horns broke them from their moment. Lina fell into position behind Frerin, Ona and Dwalin beside her. One by one the groups moved out. Had Lina stopped moving to feel the ground, she surely would have felt the ground trembling with the footfalls of the dwarven armies.

The eastern gates of Moria rose into view as the dwarves left the cover of the trees. The ground of the plains rose in height as it approached the foot of the gate. Arrayed on the high ground all around the open eastern gates was the orc army of Azog. There seemed to be no end of them. They covered the hills in a black writhing mass and spilled out of the open gates. Even from this distance, Lina could see the single pale form near the entrance of Moria. Azog. Thror's companion had described him as a pale orc, far larger than the others. It could be none other.

Out of the trees surrounding the plain came the dwarves. Their enemy shifted uneasily, but did not move to retreat at the sight of the advancing army. The orcs had the advantage in numbers, but the dwarves had far better weapons and training. Today many an orc would go down beneath the fury of the dwarves. Never had such hatred and anger burned in so many.

The armies came to a halt at the foot of the hills. Lina gripped her war hammer tightly as she and Dwalin took their places just in front of Frerin. The battle cry began from the lips of Thrain and was echoed up and down the line, growing louder with each pass.

"Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!"

Lina screamed out the battle cry, her voice joining in the cries of thousands of others. Then, in the midst of the cry, Thrain began his advance. The cry became unintelligible as the dwarves rushed toward their enemy. As the two lines drew closer together, the royal family, as planned, drew back just behind their line breakers. The line breakers hit the enemy first, shattering spear points and axes.

Lina knocked aside a pike and, with the momentum of her hammer, impaled the orc with the wicked spike on her hammer's head. Dwalin shattered the skull of another. Frerin came up between them in the opening they'd created. His battle axe went to work, felling orcs all around as if they were dead wood. The group plowed through the orcs, following the charge of Thrain and angling toward Azog.

It was all Lina could do in the midst of the chaos to keep track of her line breakers and their charge. Any and all battle plans had gone out the window within seconds of the lines colliding. Now the only plan was to kill and not be killed.

Dwarves were falling and dying all around them as they advanced. Ona's blade cut down an orc trying for the prince. Lina knocked back a band of orcs with one swing of her hammer, clearing a path to get them closer to other dwarves. The longer the dwarves could stay together, the longer they were likely to survive.

What the orc hordes lacked in weapons and skill, they more than made up for with numbers. The charge Thrain had led could not penetrate deep enough into the orc army for the phalanx units to haul the line forward. With a few minutes of striking the line, the dwarves found themselves being driven back into a small group of trees.

"Come now, beggar-beards! Is this the best you could muster!?" The cry carried over the battle field. It caught the attention of all combatants. The great pale orc stood on a ridge, mocking them. He held up the emaciated and tattered head of King Thror, recognizable by the metal still plated in his beard and the disgusting name of his murderer emblazoned upon his forehead.

A fearsome scream of rage erupted from the mouths of every dwarf on the field. With renewed fury, they went after their enemy. The pale orc simply laughed at his opponents, throwing the head high over the melee.

The head tumbled across the plains to land near Frerin and Lina. The prince paused for a moment to glance at what had landed beside him. Lina knew then, he was going to move without them.

"Dwalin!" Lina bellowed over the clamor. Ona heard the cry and turned after her companions just in time to see Frerin make a bull-headed charge through the combatants toward Azog. His three line breakers charged after him, shattering skulls and removing heads as they went.

Thrain had already reached the pale orc when Frerin was within sight of his foe. The king struck again and again at the pale orc, his all-consuming rage driving his blows. It was all in vain. The orc laughed at his attempts, mocked him, and goaded him on, all while dodging the dwarf king's blows. The orc prepared his blade to strike down the king. One of Ona's brothers leapt between the king and the orc, attempting to defend his lord. The orc's blade cut through the leather armor with little effort and slashed across the face of the dwarf king beyond.

Two dwarves ran forward at once. Frerin raced to defend his wounded father. Ona went after her brother's killer.

"Ona! No!" Lina knew her scream was in vain as she watched the orc's blade coming to meet the line breaker's staff. The staff shattered under the blow, knocking the female dwarf backwards. Azog's guard dealt the killing blow to the stunned dwarf, impaling her on his spear.

Lina felt the rage beginning to burn brighter within her at her friend's death. She spun about to knock back a pair of orcs advancing on the king and his younger son. Dwalin was already standing over the king, his hammer making short work of any who drew too near. Thrain's remaining line breakers were engaged in battle with Azog's guards. That left Frerin. Lina found him attempting to go after the pale orc in the same manner his father had. Using her massive hammer, Lina knocked one of Azog's own guards in front of the dwarf prince. The pale orc snarled as he realized his blade had cut down one of his own.

Dwalin managed to catch hold of Frerin and yank him out of the way of the orc's next attack. The gap between the prince and Azog was filled almost immediately with other battling orcs and dwarves. Lina's left arm shot across Frerin's chest as he moved to go after the orc again. The look on her face must have been terrible to behold for the prince paled beneath the orc blood spattering his face and returned to the protection of Dwalin, Lina, and Thrain's surviving line breakers.

"Troll!" The line breakers looked up from their battles to see orcs and dwarves flying in all directions. A towering figure appeared over the melee. The troll's huge club cleared away the fighters not far from where the little band stood.

Lina picked up one end of Ona's snapped weapon. The blade was disk shaped and wickedly sharp. She drew back her arm and flung the blade forward. It whirled through the air, slicing deep into the creature's leg just above the knee. The beast screamed in pain and fell to its knees. The dwarves were immediately upon it, slashing and hacking until the troll lay still.

A shout from behind Lina pulled her back from the massive body. Flames had appeared around the king's position. The orcs were spreading fire through the trees, attempting to burn the small band out. The body of one orc burst into flames as it fell from the end of a dwarf's sword.

Through the smoke and flames, Lina saw Azog advancing on the royal family again. Frerin leapt around Dwalin's protecting arm and charged his foe. The line breakers saw the swing of the orc's sword. No one could reach the prince in time.

Lina and Dwalin leapt at the pale orc in the same instance, screaming their defiance as the prince's now headless body crumpled and fell. Azog kicked Dwalin backwards with one booted foot before swinging his shield to deflect Lina's hammer. The orc drove her back, causing her to fall over the prince's body. The pale orc was over her in an instant, his blade raised for the killing blow. A body and a massive shield were suddenly between Lina and Azog. The blade hit the shield with such force that the wood splintered and broke.

The force of the blow knocked Lina's defender to the ground. Thorin rolled away from the orc, blood streaming down his face and battered arm. A shard of his own shield was protruding from his side. The orc came back for a second attack. Thorin seized an oak branch from the ground and blocked Azog's blade. He kicked at the orc's feet and forced him to jump back.

Thorin's intervention gave Lina a chance to get to her feet. She swung her hammer, smashing through the burning remains of an orc. The hammer head flared as the orc's remains stuck to it. The burning head crashed into Azog's chest plate, throwing the tall orc back from Thorin. The orc's army filled the gap between them, Azog disappearing from view.

Receiving a nod from Dwalin as he took up his defense of the king, Lina looked to Thorin. His line breakers had vanished, likely dead. The battle lust had taken him over wholly and he was preparing to follow Azog at any cost. Lina shattered the shield of one orc and impaled another as she cleared the way for Thorin. Her hammer continued to flame as the bodies of orcs shattered upon it, adding their flesh and blood to feed the flames.

The two dwarves were a fearsome sight to behold. Thorin used his oak branch alternately as a shield and club, deflecting weapons and bashing heads. His dark hair hung loosely around his face, his helm having been lost early in the battle. Blood, both black and red, was smeared over his strong form. His blue eyes blazed with fury as he removed the head of yet another orc with his axe. Lina fought beside him, her body as streaked with blood as his. Her massive hammer did not extinguish. The blazing head shattered the orc armor and sent the twisted creatures flying from her path. Orcs fled in terror from them and dwarves stared up in shock and awe.

The pair drove through the hordes to find Azog. The orc numbers appeared to be thinning as they rushed forward. When they reached the top of a small rise, they both saw the reason. The reinforcements from the Iron Hills had arrived. The fresh warriors were cutting through the remaining orcs with ease. Already Nain, the ruler of the Iron Hill dwarves, had reached the entrance of Moria. His axe flashed in battle with Azog. The pale orc struck the dwarf with such a fierce blow that the dwarf collapsed to rise no more. Yet even as Azog turned to escape, he was beheaded by Nain's young son, Dain Ironfoot.

In anger that it had not been by his hand that Azog had perished, Thorin turned on the nearest band of orcs. His axe was cutting them down even as they fled before him. The oak branch still clasped in his left hand deflected any blow which came too near. Lina turned her flaming hammer to clearing orcs away from the prince, protecting his back.

The battle was coming to a close as the orcs ran yelping southward. The fresh troops of the Iron Hills and the few survivors of the other armies followed in pursuit. Lina and Thorin turned aside from the chase to discover if Thrain and his defenders still lived.

The fire, which had remained concentrated around Thrain and his defenders, was growing fiercer. Dwalin and Ona's surviving brother staggered out from the smoke bearing the wounded king, blood streaming from his left eye and his right leg dragging brokenly upon the ground. A few other survivors guarded the king's escape from the inferno.

As they escaped the tree line, the fire flared. A sharp crack like that of stone shattering rang out across the field. The sap of a tree had overheated and literally exploded. Shards of the tree flew everywhere.

The dwarves hit the ground at the sound of the explosion, but the blast caught both Thorin and Lina. Thorin was pelted by shards, a few of the smaller pieces lodging in his armor and hands. Lina felt the sharp pain in her abdomen as she fell backwards.

Her vision clouded as she lay upon the charred and blood-soaked earth. She faintly heard her name being called, but could not identify the speaker. Everything faded. The noise of the fleeing orcs and their pursuers became muffled and far away. Hands were lifting her head, but she could neither see nor hear who was holding her. Then her world went silent and black.


	13. Waking Up

**Author's Note: One of my reviewers brought to my attention that there is another meaning to a "two-fingered salute." For reference, the type of salute I was referring to is used by the Polish military, not people trying to be insulting. Sorry for any confusion.**

**Date: TA 2799**

**Thorin: 53 years old**

**Lina: 50 years old**

The voices were frantic. They overlapped wildly, arguing with one another. The words made to no sense. Something was wrong. The voices were worried. Her name was being called, but she could not respond. She could do nothing. The pain was there, always there. It burned and ached. Then the pain flared. Terrible crimson light flooded the darkness for a breath moment. Then the voices and the pain, everything, vanished. There was not even darkness or light.

Slowly they returned. The darkness came back first, then the voices. There were so many voices in the dark. They faded in and out, garbled and confused. Sometimes she heard her name. A deep, calm voice would speak into the darkness. For a time the voice would allow a little light to creep into the darkness. No visions appeared in the hints of light, but at least the darkness was driven back. The voice would continue speaking a while, but then, with sadness, whisper her name. The voice was about to leave her whenever the sadness crept in. At those moments she tried to call out for someone, anyone, to rescue her from the darkness. No one heard her. No one could rescue her.

Feeling. She was relieved when feeling began to be included in the darkness. She had a body. Where her body was, she did not know. It was lying down. That much she knew. It never moved at her commands. It ached and hurt, but at least there was feeling again. Gentle touches accompanied the deep, calm voice whenever it whispered her name. The speaker held her hands tightly. She felt strength in that touch, and warmth. The touches moved along her face, the speaker stroking her cheek and whispering to her.

The voice began to make sense. Words became clearer.

"Wake up, Lina. Wake up," the voice pleaded. Lina tried to, but her body would not answer her. Instead everything vanished and she knew no more.

Light touched her, warming her body. She could hear voices some distance from her. Slowly, she opened her eyes. The sky above was blue and the sun beamed down on her. The brightness made her eyes close quickly. For the first time, in how long Lina did not know, she could move. Her body was slow to respond, but she nearly wept for joy that it responded at least.

A harsh pain ran through her body from her abdomen, forcing her move far slower than she had wished. Relief flooded her heart as she managed to raise herself into a seated position. She did not understand what had happened to her. Why had she been trapped in the darkness? What had happened to her?

"Lina," the voice from the darkness whispered. Disbelief and joy warred in the single whisper of her name.

Lina found Thorin standing a few strides away. His face showed signs of a struggle at least several days old. His left forearm was wrapped in bandages. A struggle, there had been a struggle.

Suddenly her mind was flooded with memories. The battle cries, the screaming, filled her ears. Blood was everywhere and the bodies of the dead fell all about her. Ona. She saw the shock and terror in her companion's eyes as she died. Frerin's head rolled across the burning ground. So many bodies.

Tears began to fall as the memories came back to her. So many were dead. She remembered the bodies spread out in every direction.

Strong arms wrapped around her and drew her close as she wept. One hand stroked her hair soothingly while the other held her tight. Lips pressed against her forehead, murmuring quietly and kissing her tenderly.

After a time, her sobs subsided. Thorin pulled back and tilted her face upward. Cradling her face between his hands, he wiped away the tears still trickling from her eyes. The same agony and sadness shone in the dwarven prince's eyes. His own loss was still painful and raw.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't save him," Lina managed, her voice trembling and rasping with disuse.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Thorin answered her. "War tears away from us those we love. I am only thankful that it did not take you as well."

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and leaned in slightly to capture her lips. Lina relaxed in his embrace. The loss of so many of her people hurt, but she could not help feeling the joy at Thorin's safety.

The pair pulled apart seconds before Thorin caught sight of several other dwarves coming into view. He shifted slightly, flicking his eyes over Lina's shoulder when she looked at him in askance. She gave a small, sad smile as she caught sight of the other dwarves. After everything, she had almost forgotten the two could never make their relationship public.

The dwarves approaching included Dwalin and his brother Balin. Both had signs of sleepless nights and great pain etched into their faces. Lina noted that Dwalin had also earned a scar cutting across his forehead, over his right eye, and ending on his nose. The pair joined Thorin and Lina. Kira limped over, one arm bound tightly between two boards. Her face was nearly unrecognizable due to the amount of damage she'd sustained.

A smile had broken through the sorrow on Dwalin's face when he saw Lina sitting up and awake. He seized his friend in a bone crushing hug, releasing her only when she hissed in pain. The dwarves settled around Lina, filling her in on all she had missed while unconscious.

First came the casualties. Lina steeled herself, but was not prepared for what they told her. Over half of Thrain's followers had been killed in battle. The list of the dead included the father of Dwalin and Balin, Frerin, Ona, both of Ona's brothers, Nain, and Ira. That last sent a stab of pain deep into Lina's heart. Ira had been her first constant female companion and her fiercest supporter when the older dwarves stood against her.

Of those who'd survived, most would carry lasting scars and deformities. The vast majority of the survivors were missing one body part or another. King Thrain had lost one eye from Azog's sword. Kira was missing two fingers on her right hand. They all were hesitant to tell her what they knew about her own injuries. When the trees had exploded in the heat, a large, sharp piece had buried itself in Lina's lower abdomen, destroying her womb and cracking her pelvic bone.

The pain of being unable to conceive was not terribly unbearable to Lina. She had not desired children as some women had. Truthfully, she had given children little thought. Children implied a marriage. Lina knew she could never marry.

The discussion turned away from the battle and the losses to focus on what the dwarves were to do. Once back at the old settlement in Dunland, Thrain would bring forth the offer Dain had made to those surviving members of Thrain's band. Dain had offered a new life to any member of Thrain's band who wished to join their kin in the Iron Hills. Thrain had agreed to bring the matter before his people, to let them decide their own fates. Already many of the survivors of the battle had heard of the offer. Several were more than willing to accept the generous offer. Others remained uncertain.

Lina looked over at Thorin. His jaw was tight as the others discussed those planning to leave Thrain. The muscles along it tensed as he kept himself from speaking out. She could see that having so many leave was agitating him. He saw them as abandoning their people and their king. It was an affront to his pride.

Lina gently laid a hand on his arm. Thorin looked at her in surprise, but his gaze softened and his jaw relaxed. His larger hand slid beneath hers, cradling it. Then he brought her hand up to his lips, kissing it.

The talking had stopped. Suddenly both dwarves realized what they had just done. They turned to face the three dwarves sitting near them, expecting criticism. Lina went from sudden fear to sudden confusion. Balin looked slightly disappointed, but Dwalin and Kira were grinning.

"Pay up, brother," Dwalin laughed, holding out his scarred hand to his brother. The older dwarf grumbled, but produced a pouch from within his coat and slapped it into his brother's palm. Dwalin poured a small pile of coins from the bag, divided them, and handed half to Kira before placing the rest inside his own coat. The three turned their attention back to Lina and Thorin.

Kira was the first to lose it. She started sniggering at the dumbstruck expression on Lina's face and the utterly confused, yet seriously annoyed, expression Thorin wore. Then the laughter bubbled from her mouth. Dwalin and Balin soon joined in, adding their deep belly laughs to Kira's.

"You two are not the most subtle of creatures," Kira answered finally, catching her breath.

"Did ye think we hadn't noticed?" Dwalin added.

"I didn't notice," Balin grumbled under his breath.

"Ye weren't looking in the right direction, brother," Dwalin laughed, slapping his brother heartily upon the back. The older dwarf rolled his eyes, but turned to address the pair before him.

"I guess it was obvious now that I think about it," he admitted. "You, Thorin, were spending a lot of time wandering past her forge after that bout you fought with her. Then you spent so much time with her, supporting her, protecting her. I should have seen it."

"There was also the way he rarely left her side while she was unconscious," Kira added. "I've never seen anyone that concerned about someone not their kin."

"So you've been making bets on us?" Thorin asked finally. He was torn between annoyance and relief. The annoyance was at being made the subject of a bet in the first place. The relief was that the three friends gave no indication of disapproval—not that he needed their approval—or of going to inform others.

"Just between the three of us," Kira added hastily. "I don't think anyone else has even noticed."

"Though you can't exactly keep hiding forever," Balin pointed out.

Thorin's eyes slid over to Lina. She saw the same worry she felt mirrored in his eyes. If these three had figured it out, how long before others did as well? Not all of the dwarves would approve of their involvement. In fact, most of them would probably have a fit. Thrain would be the first. He was open-minded enough to let a female rise above the lowly position she'd been born into. However, Lina seriously doubted he was interested in having his son attached to a lower class nobody.

"We'll figure something out," Lina answered, her voice firm.


	14. Becoming Lina Firehammer

**Author's Note: Someone told me that this story reminded them of the song "For Guinevere" by Heather Dale. Go look it up, it's beautiful. **

**Date: TA 2800, very early in the year**

**Thorin: 53 years old**

**Lina: 50 years old**

"Will you remain with us, Lady Firehammer?"

Thrain gazed down at the female warrior standing in the crowd before him. He used the name she had earned in battle, the name of "Firehammer." The gathered crowd was now informed of Dain's offer to give those who asked it shelter. If the heroes of the Battle of Azanulbizar turned away now, there would be little hope that the line of Thrain would survive.

"I will, My Lord," she answered, bowing. Lina moved to stand behind the king and his family, showing her support for them. Other dwarves followed suit. Kira, Dwalin, and Balin were among the first after Lina. Too few joined the group behind the king. Most were now willing, after thirty long years to settle permanently wherever they could find welcome.

"I wish the rest of you safety on your journey," Thrain said finally, looking with sadness upon those who were choosing to abandon their people. The crowd bowed, many with pain and sadness in their eyes, and left.

Lina watched, her throat tightening with pain and grief, as her own mother followed the group travelling to join Dain in the Iron Hills. She could not blame her mother for her choice. Life on the road was hard. The poverty in which the dwarves following Thrain lived was bitter and harsh. One old warrior who had survived the battle had volunteered to take care of Lorina for the rest of her days. No, Lina understood that her mother had chosen what was best for her, but it did not make the hurt leave.

She turned away from those who had chosen to leave and gazed around at those who were willing to stay. Most of those staying were survivors of the battle, covered in scars and missing various body parts, but all were loyal. They were a motley crew. One dwarf, a toymaker, still had the head of an axe embedded in his skull from the fighting. The healers had been far too afraid to remove it. Dwalin and Balin's cousins, both scarred from the fight, had chosen to remain with Thrain. A handful of females had stayed. Most of these had not participated in the battle. Dis stood loyally at her brother's side, still mourning for her lost brother.

Thorin, now referred to as Thorin Oakenshield, looked up as Lina glanced at him. He was barely keeping his anger in check as most of those who had followed his grandfather out of Erebor now turned to leave.

The dwarves who had made the decision to stay with Thrain and Thorin began to return to the homes they'd built in Dunland. The king limped stiffly away from the group, his daughter helping him walk. Lina knew it was time to return to her forge, to repair the damage done, to begin this new part of her life. She paused beside Thorin, her back to the still visible retreating dwarves. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"At least the dwarves with you have something those leaving do not have," Lina murmured, "Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart." She squeezed his shoulder before moving back to her dwelling beside the forge.

The young smith glanced at the battered armor hanging on the wall of her home. It was in better shape than most of the armor the dwarves had scavenged from the corpses of their kin. Anything that was repairable had been brought to Lina's forge for that purpose. What was too damaged to use had been placed in another pile which Lina would pick through to find what pieces had salvageable material in them still.

The work would take some time, and would not be easy. Physically, sorting the armor and weapons would be easy. However, the emotional toll the task would exact from her would be high. Lina had caught sight of Ona's armor the day the first pieces had been brought in. The memory of her companion's death had kept her from being able to move for several minutes, her eyes burning with tears. Ira's armor was so destroyed that it could not be repaired. The way her friend had died sent tears spilling down her face. Those bringing in the armor had obviously been just as painfully affected. Many had tears streaming down their cheeks as they worked. All of them had lost someone in the battle. To see the armor of their loved ones empty, blood-stained, and battered was nearly as painful as seeing the bodies.

There had been so many bodies, too many to bury with honor and dignity. None of the dwarves had enough tombs carved from the rock to bury them properly. Even if they had, there were not enough left living to carry the dead and the wounded back. Lina had been unconscious when the decision to burn the dead had been made, so she'd not even been able to say a final farewell to her friends. All she had left were her memories of them. At least they had fought and died with honor.

Those living were left behind to carry with honor the memories of their friends, their family, their husbands, and their wives. That burden was a heavy one to bear. One first had to get past the grief and pain the memories caused. For some the load was far too great. At least a handful of dwarves had utterly vanished since the battle's end, most of them noncombatants.

Lina could only imagine what they had done. Her own strength and pride would not allow her to give in to the despair that had fallen upon them. Her force of will alone was all that had made her walk this soon. Dwalin and Balin had carried her back to Dunland on a stretcher. It had been several weeks after Lina awoke before she could move about on her own. Even now walking was still painful. The bone had knitted together for the most part, but it was difficult to find any position save for lying down which did not cause her pain. Yet Lina could not allow her pain, no matter how severe, to prevent her from doing her duty to the king.

It had a taken a few days, but, soon after Lina began to appear among the other dwarves, many had developed a new respect for the female warrior since the battle. They called her Lina Firehammer now. Apparently the sight of her flaming war hammer devastating the enemy had been embedded in the minds of many a dwarven warrior. None of the surviving warriors begrudged Lina her position now. They had seen her in action and doubted her no longer. Some among the noncombatants had still voiced opinions against her in the first days after the surviving warriors had returned. Those opinions had been silenced quickly with sharp looks from any warrior who overheard the comment. At least among the people she cared the most for, Lina was no longer an outsiders. The Battle of Azanulbizar had ensured that.

It took her a while to get used to her new epithet. The name was awkward on her tongue, but she was expected to use it when introducing herself now. It was a mark of respect that she had been given the name, and not to use it would be an insult to her people. Now she was given honor of par with some of the highest ranking dwarves.

No longer was she simply Lina, that quiet, scarred, and talented craftswoman. No longer was she Lina, the would-be warrior, the lady smith. She was Lina Firehammer, hero of the Battle of Azanulbizar. She had become someone, someone important, and someone whose opinion mattered and whose voice was listened to. That gave her hope.


	15. Making a Move

**Author's Note: I've been a little slow on updating and my chapters have been shorter, I know. I've been trying to get Lina to go where I want her, but she's being stubborn. So I made a video while I was thinking. Go to Youtube and search for "Lady Firehammer." It should be near the top as "Lady Firehammer-I Will See You Again." Check it out and let me know what you think. **

**Date: TA 2802**

**Thorin: 56 years old**

**Lina: 53 years old**

A large fire crackled in the hearth of the king's hall. Though the hall was neither splendid nor designed for royalty, it served its purpose. King Thrain held court among his few loyal followers. Their numbers had dwindled over the past two years. Barely one hundred and fifty dwarves still pledged loyalty to Thrain.

Lina looked about the sorry gathering. The poverty they were living in had taken its toll upon their numbers. There were no new children among them, nor had there been in the previous ten years. The last child born had been at the start of the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. The dwarves were barely able to fend for themselves. They could not afford to take care of a youngling as well. There was no hope for the band's survival in Dunland, not as small as they were.

Thrain rose from his chair, surveying his followers. He had aged far beyond his years. His bearing was still regal, but he appeared frailer than he had before. The murmured conversations fell silent.

"You have all suffered much for the sake of your people," he began, "I can ask no more of you than what you have given me. For the past two years you have all struggled beside me to make our living, but to no avail. Our numbers have fallen. We can no longer survive in this place. There is nothing for us to mine, nothing for us to smith, and nothing for us to survive on."

The king paused, watching his followers. Lina, like the others, simply nodded. This was not new information to them.

"Since the fall of the ancient dwarf city of Belegost in the First Age, none of our kind has dwelt there. The mines may yet be good. There may yet be sustenance for our people there. I and my family will journey there, to seek our fortunes rather than beg for aid from our kin in the Iron Hills as so many before have done," the king continued.

At his words, Lina felt a tiny spark of hope appear in her heart. For so long the dwarves she dwelt with had been without hope, of anything. Now there was hope for them. She looked about her and saw the same spark kindled in her companions' eyes.

"Who will join us?"

In answer to the king's question, the whole host rose with a shout. They had grown tired of this hopeless existence. Even the prospect of a little wealth was enough to entice them on the journey.

A smile lit the king's face for the first time in many months. He called for the dwarves to be ready within the week to leave Dunland. With that, they were dismissed.

Lina followed the example of the other dwarves, starting to pack away her few belongings for the coming journey. She had little enough to pack. The tools from her forge were the most important, being her only livelihood at the moment. Those would have to wait to be pack until closer to the time the dwarves would leave. Armor might still need repairing.

Her armor came next, such as it was. Most of the dwarves had been forced to selling their best armor simply to survive. What they possessed now was barely enough to protect them against glancing blows. No one, however, had been willing to sell their weapons. Lina ran her hand along the handle of her massive hammer. It had been some time since she'd used it in battle. In fact she had not used it in a true fight since the Battle of Azanulbizar. It had received little use in the past year and a half. Six months had passed before she had healed enough to wield it again.

A few things would have to be left behind, things that were too heavy to carry without a cart or pony of which the dwarves had neither. Lina and Thorin would have to use other forges they encountered along the way as they simply could not build their own on the road. Nor could they carry some items like the anvils. This journey would require them to take only what they could carry.

Lina moved from the forge to her own small dwelling. She carefully began stowing away anything she wouldn't need immediately in leather packs. A few clothes would have to remain out for the time being, at least until the dwarves were ready to leave. Most of her personal treasures, items of little value to anyone but her, were wrapped carefully in the packed clothing. After a moment she realized just how empty of things her life had become. Most of the objects in her dwelling she had no desire to take with her. They were there purely for use, and had little value to her. What few items she truly valued, she usually wore.

A yawn escaped her mouth, making her realize just how tired she was. With a sigh, Lina put aside her packing. It could wait. She shrugged her leathers off, and crawled into her bed wearing a loose tan shirt and leggings. The candle was snuffed out, leaving the room in darkness. Within moments, the exhausted dwarf was asleep.

The sound of a hammer woke Lina far too early the next morning. Grumbling in annoyance, she slid from her bed and padded across the room to enter the forge. Pulling open the door, she was temporarily blinded by the firelight from the forge. When her eyes finally adjusted, she spotted Thorin pounding at the heated pieces of a sword needing to be reforged. His presence puzzled her. It was rare for him to be in the forge this early.

As she approached, she saw the darkness in his eyes. His brow was heavily furrowed and his lips were set in a hard line. Tension was in every part of his muscular frame. Lina stood quietly, waiting for the prince to notice her. It would do her no good to shout for he would not hear her. Trying to touch him when he was this agitated would not be wise, especially with the focus he had.

After a minute, Thorin glanced up to see her standing there. He set aside the hammer and thrust the sword into the coals to soften further before turning his attention to Lina. Not a word escaped his lips as he gazed up impassively at her.

"What happened?" Lina settled herself cross-legged on the edge of the table.

"My father wishes me to marry," he answered flatly. His eyes were distant as he spoke.

An icy hand gripped Lina's heart at his words. Could the king force the prince to marry?

"He can't force me, of course," Thorin continued, answering Lina's unspoken question. "He simply expressed a desire to see me wed."

Lina remained silent, letting Thorin continue as he chose. She had learned long ago that pressing for more usually made him close himself off from her. On this subject, the subject of marriage, Thorin was most reticent. Lina had never brought it up to him, of course. That would have been foolishness on her part. Still, she'd often heard him mention his father would be happy when Thorin finally took a wife.

"My father has already begun thinking up the names I should bestow upon my sons," he added with a bitter laugh. Sons. Lina was pierced by that word. Thrain would truly never be happy if—and that was a remote "if"—Thorin took Lina as his bride. Without the ability to bear sons, Thorin's line would end. The continuation would rest solely upon the shoulders of Thorin's sister, Dis.

"Have you found no one that could satisfy your father's desires?" Lina queried finally.

"To satisfy him? No." Thorin caught Lina's gaze and held it. "However, I have found someone to satisfy me."

He rose from his stool and drew closer to her. Lina felt her heart begin to beat wildly as a strange look appeared in Thorin's eyes. She'd never seen such a look before. He was uncertain, she could see that plainly. There was love, something she had grown used to seeing from him. Then there was outright terror. That was the look she'd never seen before. He'd been nervous on occasion, but never as scared as he was now.

"Lina, I want you, and only you. If I cannot marry you, then I do not wish to marry at all," Thorin murmured, drawing her down from the table until she stood before him.

Lina was taken aback. Thorin had never mentioned he was interested in marrying her. Not until this moment. Her mouth opened and closed in shock. Thoughts tumbled over one another as Lina tried to make sense of his words. Was he saying he wanted to marry her?

"You realize I could never give you sons, or children of any sort," she answered slowly. Her eyes met his. A pained look crossed his face, but he did not look away.

"I know." The words came out haltingly. The idea of never having any children to carry on his line, not even a daughter, was a terrible thought for him. His hands flexed around hers. The tension was beginning to return.

Lina freed one hand from his grasp and placed it against his cheek. The pain in his eyes tore at her heart. So much was expected, was required, of him. The plans everyone had for him, the plans he had for himself, did not include her. They couldn't include her. He would reclaim Erebor from the dragon and become its king. There was no place for the daughter of a nobody, especially one who could not bear children. She had resigned herself to this long ago.

Thorin covered the hand on his cheek with his own. His eyes closed as he held it firmly in place. For a moment they stood silently like that. Then he slid her hand down his cheek and kissed the palm. His breath was warm against her hand, rushing across her skin is short, quick puffs. Lina felt the change in him as his breathing slowed and deepened. Thorin's eyes opened, determination shining.

"We can't go on pretending there's nothing between on," Thorin said firmly. "I won't go on pretending."

Lina tilted her head to the side, a small smile dancing over her lips. The determination lit a fire in his eyes that had been extinguished for far too long. Whatever he was intending, it involved her and it was a good thing.


	16. The Secret

**Author's Note: First, Merry Christmas to everyone! Second, this story will continue into the Hobbit considering that Bilbo is the one writing this tale. However, I do want to play with the back story a bit more. We will get there, I promise. **

**Date: TA 2802**

**Thorin: 56 years old**

**Lina: 53 years old**

"Shhhhh!" The hiss was followed by the sound of someone tripping and falling in the darkness.

"Oof! Get off me, you big oaf!" someone, a male, growled.

"If ye'd stay out from under my feet, ye wouldn't get crushed," a different male answered gruffly.

"Stop it, you two. You're going to get us all caught!" This voice was female, and she sounded more amused than angry.

The males mumbled under their breaths, but the voices quieted. Now one could only hear the rustle of leaves in the dark. A small torch flickered into view through the trees.

Lina and Thorin stood watching as their three friends emerged from the undergrowth into the small clearing. Balin was slightly disheveled and had a smear of dirt across his large nose. Dwalin and Kira were both sniggering at his appearance. The offended dwarf shot his companions a dirty look, but continued without saying a word.

"Here are the stones," he told Thorin gravely, handing the prince a small leather bag. Thorin nodded his thanks. He turned to Lina and held his hand out to her. Her hand fit perfectly into his. A small smile appeared on his lips as he brought her hand up to kiss.

Lina smiled nervously as Thorin led her toward the stone the dwarves had placed in the center of the clearing. It had taken the better part of the allotted week left in Dunland to find the perfect stone. Balin had been the one to spot it on one of his forays out of the settlement. The previous night the two brothers had moved the stone to this clearing, the only one around suitable for the purpose.

When Thorin had first mentioned marrying her, Lina had been torn between ecstasy and agony. On the one hand, she knew she should not marry Thorin if his line was to continue. She had tried to refuse, but he had insisted. He would take no other wife, no matter that his line would not continue with either choice. His declaration had brought tears to her eyes.

Once the decision to wed had been made, Thorin had quietly broached the subject with his father. At first Thrain had been delighted that his son was seriously considering finding a wife. However, when Thorin had hinted that there might be a female in their company he was intending to pursue, Thrain had dismissed the notion outright.

"Love is important, my son, for those who do not have a duty to perform," the king had declared. His meaning was plain. Thorin was to marry for duty, not love as other dwarves could do. His father's rejection of needing love for a marriage to work had further determined Thorin to marry Lina.

The pair had approached their three friends, the only dwarves privy to their secret, for help in carrying out the ceremony. As far as being written in the dwarven records, Thorin would never be listed as married as the union had been all but forbidden by the king. However, all dwarves knew the ritual which bound husband to wife before the Valar.

Balin had, after a few minutes of consideration had agreed to aid them. Lina and Thorin breathed sighs of relief that the wise dwarf was willing to help them. His council had never yet been wrong. Yet even his voice had failed to convince the king that perhaps a suitable wife for Thorin was in the present company. And so, Balin had agreed to secretly aid his friends.

Dwalin and Kira had agreed instantly to do whatever was necessary. They had followed Balin's directions to the letter, gathering the required materials for the ritual. Everything had been made ready for tonight, and so the five dwarves gathered in secret.

Together, Thorin and Lina performed the ritual. As they repeated the promises Aulë had laid out for their forefathers, their joined left hands began to glow softly. The stones over which their hands were joined pulsed with that same gentle light, one more beginning to glow with each promise spoken. When all of the stones had begun to glow, Balin intoned the final declaration over them.

A soft golden light rose up from the stones, forming a dome above their hands. Lina watched in awe as the light twisted about her wrist and Thorin's before winding down to where their fingers met. Golden runes moved in streams over their skin, the promises they had spoken earlier moving as if to tie the couple's hands together. The last of the promises faded, but the golden dome remained for a moment longer. Then, in the same golden runes, a name appeared etched on the third finger of Lina's left hand. A different name appeared on the same finger of Thorin's hand.

Lina looked up at Thorin in joy. Aulë had seen fit to bless the union. The name inscribed upon Lina's finger was Thorin's true, inner name, not that which any Men or Elves, and not all Dwarves may know. Lina's true, inner name was inscribed upon Thorin's finger. The runes faded and disappeared, followed shortly by the golden dome. When the two rose and examined their hands, they found symbols representing the phase of the moon and the season in which the two had been joined permanently inscribed on the inside of their third fingers. Though dwarven records might never record the marriage of Thorin Oakenshield to Lina Firehammer, the Valar had made record of it.

Thorin grasped his wife's hand and pulled her to him. His lips claimed hers. The heat and intensity in the kiss made Lina's body go weak with want.

"We are one, my wife," he murmured.

"So we are, my husband," she whispered. Husband! She was half delirious with joy at the word. As a child she had never dreamed of marrying at all. Even when she had been drawn so inexplicably to Thorin, she had not dared to think of marriage. It was not until the pair had been secretly involved for a couple of years that Lina first began to dream of marriage. Those, she had thought, were dreams only. Now they were her reality.

The three other dwarves present congratulated the pair. Lina was certain Dwalin's enthusiastic hug was going to crack her ribs. Kira kept wrapping her arm around Lina's shoulders and squeezing with all her might. Lina was almost certain that the pair had a bet between them to see who could break bones with their hugs. Balin, though happy for them, was more restrained in his congratulations. He spoke quietly to each of them, offering his suggestion to hide their marriage from Thrain as long as possible. Or to at least wait to reveal their binding to him until after the company had begun their journey.

Thorin agreed that it was probably best to hide the joining for the time being. It would not do to have the journey beginning in anger. The couple watched as their friends vanished back into the darkness to return to the settlement. Once the other dwarves were gone, Lina seized the edges of her husband's coat and pulled him down for a kiss. The kiss led to another, and then to so much more.

**A/N: Look for a second chapter later today. Merry Christmas to everyone. :)**


	17. Life in Belegost

**A/N: As promised, a second chapter for the day. It's my Christmas present to you guys. Thank you so much for the love you've all shown to this story. I love hearing from you.**

**Date: TA 2841**

**Thorin: 95 years old**

**Lina: 92 years old**

Thorin rested his arm on the mantelpiece and stood staring into the fire. His brow was knitted with concern. Lina sat quietly beside their bed, her hands clasped around the knee she'd drawn up to her chin. Her gaze was focused on her husband, but her mind was wandering.

It had been thirty-nine years since they had been secretly joined in a forest clearing. In that time so many things had happened as to be nearly innumerable. Within a week of the ritual, both dwarves had decided they could not stand to hide their marriage and had confessed it to Thrain. At first the king had been angry, then hurt, and finally resigned. His hopes for the continuation of his line now lay with his daughter.

Dis, in turn, had entered into a courtship with a dwarf who had joined the company on their trek from Dunland to Belegost. Only a few months earlier in 2841, Dis had been joined to the dwarf. Thrain had been overjoyed at the union, and waited impatiently for the first child to be produced.

Even though Dis had not yet produced a child, the population of the settlement had grown. Word of the movement north by Thrain and Thorin to recolonize the citadel of Belegost had attracted a number of wandering dwarves. Some of these had been driven from Erebor, but had neither stayed with Thrain's band nor had they settled in the Iron Hills. Some dwarves were not of Durin's Line, but of another of the Seven Fathers altogether. Yet they all came to join.

Belegost had indeed contained some useful mines. In short order, the dwarves had delved deep within. There was no gold to be had for it had long ago been removed by those who had built the citadel. Silver, iron, and other metals, however, existed in abundance. The dwarves were able, for the first time in over forty years, to begin growing. Their poverty began to abate. The city was restored, though not even close to its former glory. The population began to grow and multiply. Lina saw a newborn child for the first time in over twelve years. The sight and sound of the babe brought tears of joy to everyone who had followed Thrain. Thrain's people had a new life.

Some form of a society had begun to reform once the city was rebuilt. Thrain was the unquestionable leader, Thorin his heir. Much to Thrain's surprise, none of the dwarves had objected to Lina's presence among the royal family. The tales told of the Battle of Azanulbizar included stories—most of them exaggerated—of Lina Firehammer and the devastation she dealt to the dwarves' enemy.

The tales were embarrassing most of the time. The hero-worship Lina had once received from the young females before the battle had returned with a vengeance in a new generation of young dwarves. Had Lina so desired, she could have any number of apprentices under her as she worked in the forge. As it was, Lina had to assign the gawking young males and females various small tasks just to keep them out from under foot.

Thorin often teased her about the "army" she led. He and Dwalin had started giving the children positions. There youngest they called scouts. These went running to and fro with messages, reporting on anything and everything. Then came the archers. These were so called due to their single-mindedness when Lina gave them a task. Woe betide anyone who got in their way when they were on a mission! The foot soldiers came next. These were slightly older children who performed the most physical tasks Lina handed out including drawing water, working the bellows, and bringing her fresh materials. There was, however, one group Thorin did not think was amusing in the slightest.

All armies have camp followers, whether these are peddlers selling cheap wares or entire families. Lina had a large group of "camp followers." Had these merely been children, Thorin would have been as amused as Dwalin regarding their existence. However, these were not children. The group had a very transient population of young males, just old enough to begin courting. Most of these were new to Belegost, not yet acquainted with anyone in the city, and they would happen to catch sight of Lina in her forge. Being young and rather full of themselves, they often approached her and attempted to flirt. If Lina was feeling generous she simply informed them that she already had selected a husband. If she was not, as in the case of several particularly arrogant pups, she would have her army of children literally chase them from the forge. Dwalin found the whole thing hilarious and was more often than not on hand to watch events as they unfolded. He'd had occasion to toss one dwarf out of the forge for insulting Lina's husband though the young male had never met him.

Thorin was extremely jealous. Lina was forced more than once to intervene when Thorin caught sight of one of the young males trying to woo Thorin's mate. According to a number of the older dwarven women, such jealousy was common among the married males. Due to dwarven women being so scarce, the men who managed to wed were very protective of their wives. This did not make Thorin's jealousy any more amusing, except to Dwalin who found it to be the greatest entertainment in the world.

Lina continued running bouts with warriors in training as a way to work off steam, usually built up and then vented upon the same individuals. That Thorin did find amusing. Over-confident young males practically lined up to go a round against the legendary female line breaker. No matter how many males they watched getting knocked head over heels before them, they were still convinced they could and would defeat her. More than one of them had come limping away to be greeted by Thorin commenting on the skill his wife possessed. With that, another "camp follower" would be gone, only to be replaced by another idiot in short order.

Every now and again, Lina and Thorin would do battle. These were rare and far between, and both had agreed these should only be done when there were no hurt feelings between them. More often than not, Thorin would win these bouts. Lina won only one battle in six, and these only by the skin of her teeth. She was a masterful warrior with a hammer, but the heavy weapon still put her at a disadvantage to her husband. These bouts often drew large crowds, all interested in seeing two heroes of the Battle of Azanulbizar in action.

It was sometimes hard for Lina to believe how far her life had come. There were mornings she woke up wondering if it was all just a wonderful dream and at any moment her father would be bellowing. Or perhaps she was still lying unconscious after Smaug's attack on Erebor. Then she would roll onto her side and find herself gazing upon the sleeping form of her husband. No, she would decide then, it could not be a dream. For never had she ever pictured Thorin as he looked while he slept. The Thorin she had known in her youth was distant, hard, and frightening. This Thorin was the exact opposite. He was rarely distant. Often he was happiest to simply hold Lina in his arms. The tenderness with which he treated her always left her smiling. As for frightening, Lina had nothing to fear from her husband. He treated her with the utmost respect and honor. Even when tempers grew hot, neither was willing to disrespect the other.

Thorin shifted, bringing Lina's wandering mind back into the room. There was genuine worry is his eyes. The worry was tying every muscle in his body into a tight knot.

Lina rose and caught her husband's hand. He looked almost surprised to see her standing there. With a knowing look, she pulled Thorin over to the chair she had just vacated and made him sit down. Her hands went to work, massaging his neck and shoulders, trying to chase some of the tension away. Almost immediately she felt him relax.

"You are worried for you father," Lina commented. Her husband inclined his head to show she was correct.

"Dwalin and Balin are with him. They will do their utmost to ensure his safety," she pointed out. She moved her fingers up to massage his head.

"I know," he replied, "but I have a bad feeling about this venture of his."

"Why?"

"Something does not feel right. My father was far quieter about returning to Erebor when my grandfather was still alive. Now that we have some modicum of prosperity he decides to go wandering off on the most poorly planned expedition I have ever seen. If it had not been for Balin's level head, he may have very well run off without even a weapon." Thorin's voice stilled.

"There is nothing you can do for him now," Lina murmured, leaning over to kiss his head. "You must simply wait for his return. Working yourself into a knot will do your father no good. Besides, you aren't terrible comfortable to sleep with when you're tense."

"Is that so?" Thorin reached up and pulled his wife closer to him. His lips found the underside of her jaw.

Lina gave a startled laugh and playfully smacked Thorin's shoulder, pulling away before he could react. His arm shot out to capture her and missed. Thorin rose from the chair, spinning to face his wife. Moving the chair to one side, he made a grab for her. With a laugh Lina dodged his lunge and somersaulted across the bed, placing its bulk between them.

Thorin eyed her warily for a long moment. She simply wrinkled her nose at him and grinned. He lunged again and the chase was on. The bedroom furniture made convenient obstacles for Lina to hide behind. Thorin was much heavier and far less agile. He had to go around most furniture to grab at her. Lina could simply vault over it.

The room's smooth stone floor made the game more interesting. The animal skin rugs slide across the floor whenever one of them tried to stop suddenly. Lina used this to her advantage. If she wanted to reverse directions suddenly, she would wait until Thorin was just starting onto a rug. Then he would try to stop and turn suddenly. Usually he ended up on the floor and she ended up on the other side of the room laughing.

Sadly, it did not take long for him to catch on to her tricks. He may have been brawny, but he certainly was not stupid. When the attempt to use Lina's own tricks against her failed, Thorin resorted to herding. Lina suddenly found herself trapped on top of their bed. She stood at the center, her back to the stone wall at the head. Thorin paused at the foot of the bed. Both were breathing a bit hard, but both were smiling.

Thorin watched his wife closely. She was looking for an escape. In a desperate attempt, Lina leapt from the bed and hit the floor ready to run. This time, however, Thorin was too fast and caught her around the waist. With a tug he had pulled Lina back onto the bed. She blinked in surprise as she found herself pinned beneath him. His hands held her wrists tightly over her head.

"I win," Thorin informed her, smirking.

"Oh?" Lina's raised one eyebrow, trying with no success to hide her answering smirk. "And what make you think you've won?"

The look on his face made Lina's breath hitch in her chest and a shiver run down her spine. In response to her question, Thorin leaned down and kissed her deeply. His lips roamed from her lips to her jaw and down onto the exposed column of her throat. A small moan escaped his prisoner's mouth as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive flesh. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as he teased her. Thorin moved his mouth to kiss the skin just below her ear.

"I think I've won," he breathed into her ear. This time he did not allow her to respond, claiming her mouth with a searing kiss.

Lina smiled inwardly. No, she most definitely was the winner of this bout.


	18. Vulnerability

**Date: TA 2841**

**Thorin: 95 years old**

**Lina: 92 years old**

A knock on the door startled Lina awake. A quick look over at Thorin showed he'd not heard it. With a soft sigh, Lina rose from their bed and pulled a robe around her naked body. Her bare feet made barely a sound as she crossed to the door. Pulling it open, Lina found Kira waiting outside. The other female motioned for her to come out into the hall for a moment when she caught sight of Thorin still asleep.

"What is it?" Lina asked, shutting the door softly behind her.

"They've returned," Kira informed her.

Lina caught her meaning. Thrain's group had returned, but why was Kira being so secretive about it?

"What has happened?" The worry and fear began to rise within her.

"Thrain has gone missing. Balin says they were taking shelter at the edge of Mirkwood when the king vanished from the midst of their camp. They've returned after nearly a week of searching did not turn up even a sign of him." Kira's voice was grim. Someone or something had stolen Thrain.

"Who else knows?" Lina asked quietly, wondering what the fallout from the king's disappearance would be like.

"No one yet. Balin thought it best to tell Thorin before anyone else knew. He wanted me to tell you. The thinking was that you could break the news to Thorin better than any of us." The swordswoman went silent. Lina pressed one finger against her temple as she took in the information.

"I will tell Thorin. You tell Balin and Dwalin they, and the rest of their group, had better be gathered in the audience chamber in one candlemark. Thorin will have many questions for them," Lina told her friend. Kira nodded and disappeared down the hall.

Thorin had been right. Something had gone wrong. Lina felt sick to her stomach as she slipped back into their bedroom. Her husband was still sleeping peacefully. For a moment she simply stood beside the bed, watching him sleep.

The covers had settled about his hips, leaving his bare torso exposed to her gaze. Years of martial training and work in a forge had honed and hardened his body. Every muscle was well defined. The skin was crisscrossed with wounds received in various fights and battles. Lina had intimate knowledge of each and knew how he'd received them. His long, shaggy mane lay all about his head, catching in his beard and splayed across the muscled planes of his back. One arm lay stretched out across the empty space where Lina's body had been only a few minutes earlier.

He looked peaceful. Lina had managed to soothe his fears last night, and he had been calmer than she'd seen him in days. Now she was supposed to shatter that peace with the news his father had gone missing?

As if sensing her presence, Thorin's eyes opened. His expression became concerned when he saw her standing beside the bed, her face grim.

"Something has happened to my father, hasn't it?" There was resignation in his voice.

"Balin brought back the rest of the company. They will be waiting in the audience chamber to brief you fully in about a candlemark," she answered. Thorin lifted himself up on his elbow and simply examined his wife for a long moment. There was a conflict in his eyes. He was relieved at least to have an answer to his fears, but he was upset and angry that his father was gone. Thrain's disappearance made Thorin the de facto leader of Belegost. That was a position Thorin had not wanted just yet.

Lina was surprised when Thorin patted the empty place in bed beside him. She had been certain he was going to begin preparing to meet with Balin and Dwalin.

"Join me," he said softly. Still surprised by his response to the situation, Lina did so, shedding her robe in the process. Once in the bed, Thorin draped the covers over her hips and pulled her close to him. He buried his nose in the hair at the base of her neck and inhaled deeply. The arm about her waist tightened as she shifted, pinning her tightly against his muscular chest.

"I'm not going anywhere," Lina murmured, wrapping her own arm around his waist. He said nothing, but kissed her neck tenderly. The grip he had on her body relaxed only marginally.

There was fear and vulnerability in Thorin at that moment. Lina saw that as he held her tightly. His life had been filled with betrayal and loss from the start. His mother had died when he was but a child. His city was destroyed, his grandfather murdered, and now his father was missing. The strength Lina had first noticed in him back in Erebor was still there. No one could deny that. Anyone who glimpsed him saw the power and strength he possessed. However, that strength could not hold off the hurt and the fear of so much loss.

The female warrior knew what it was to be betrayed and to lose everything. Yet she had started out as far down as a being could be. Her journey had led her ever upward. Thorin had only fallen. How must farther must Thorin fall before his fortunes changed?

The hand not holding her husband absently stroked the hair on his chest. Thorin drew his head back from her neck. Lina looked up at him and found he was watching her with a crooked smile.

"I love you," she told him, moving her hand up to grasp the back of his head.

The smile broadened and finally reached his eyes, adding back a bit of the light she had grown so used to seeing there. He shifted his body until he was leaning over her. His eyes roamed over her naked body, drinking her in. Lina blushed slightly at the intensity and heat in his gaze. She was still not used to the way he looked at her. Her natural inclination toward modesty made his admiration for her body embarrassing, but she did not attempt to hide herself. Her eyes fluttered closed as he dragged the tips of his fingers over her skin, sending a shiver up her spine.

"I love you," he answered, dipping his head to capture her mouth in his. There was urgency, desperation, in his kiss. Lina's hands ran up and down his back as he held his body above her. His hands grasped the sides of her face, his fingers tangled in her hair.

When he pulled back, they were both breathing hard. His large hands were surprisingly tender as they brushed strands of Lina's blonde hair from her face. For one long moment he simply rested above her, his body just brushing hers with each breath they took. Thorin seemed to be afraid of looking away from her for fear she'd disappear.

"I will be with you always," Lina murmured, repeating the same words Thorin had spoken to her many years before, "I will never leave you, no matter what happens to me."

"Good." He pressed his lips against hers once more before levering himself off of her and stepping on the floor. The pair dressed quickly in relative silence. Lina smiled to herself as her hands flew through Thorin's hair, braiding the strands at each temple. His eyes had closed as she performed the task. It was a simple task for Thorin to perform, but he always preferred her touch. He would never admit it, but Lina was willing to bet it was a comfort to him.

Once the pair had dressed and deemed themselves presentable, they left the room to meet with Balin and Dwalin. Other dwarves watched the two powerful figures moving past. Neither walked ahead of the other, but rather walked side-by-side. In any other instance, Lina or Thorin, when apart from their mate, took point. It was almost second nature to any dwarf near them to fall into step behind rather than beside them. Yet, in this one instance, neither Lina nor Thorin took the lead.

The doors of the audience chamber were already open when the couple reached them. Thrain's returned company stood waiting. Lina closed the doors behind them and rejoined her husband. Her eyes jumped from one member of the group to the next.

Some of the dwarves were unfamiliar to her, their names unknown. However each one of them looked particularly exhausted. Dark circles surrounded their eyes. Their beards and hair were unkempt. All still wore the garments they'd arrived in. They had been so exhausted by their search for Thrain they had not even taken the candlemark to clean themselves up. Lina felt a twinge of guilt at having kept them waiting.

Thorin waved them back into their chairs as they stood to greet him. With relief they obeyed.

"What happened?"

Balin began the tale, passing it around as was necessary. It took nearly two hours to tell the tale in full. By the end Lina was not so certain that the misfortunes which had befallen Thorin's father and grandfather were simply cruel twists of fate. It seemed there was so much more to the tale. Yet no one seemed to know what that more was.

Thrain's band had been hounded by trouble from the moment they left Belegost. Orcs attacked frequently. Wild beasts crossed their paths and caused chaos. No matter which path the dwarves determined best they found themselves beset by trouble. On the last night the group had seen Thrain, dark clouds had been gathering the entire previous day. These dark clouds suddenly unleashed black rain and forced the dwarves to take cover in the dark edges of Mirkwood. The two dwarves standing watch that night had seen nothing. Balin had been the last dwarf to see the king. He had been on guard. When he had patrolled through the camp, counting his companions, he remembered noticing that the king was holding tightly to some folded piece of parchment. Not an hour later he found the king had vanished from the midst of the company.

Lina's blood ran cold at this new bit of information. Balin had the sharpest eyes of any dwarf she knew. For his eyes to be blind to whatever happened to the king there had to be some other force at work than nature. Thrain could never have slipped out of the camp on his own without drawing Balin's eye. Someone or something had targeted the king. It was not likely that any one of them would ever see Thrain alive again.

That realization left a new set of questions in Lina's mind. Had this being gotten that which they desired from Thrain? Or would Thorin become the focus of the hunt now? If Thorin felt any of the same anxiety Lina did, then he gave no outward sign of it. His face was nearly devoid of emotion.

Balin gave Lina a look. He was having the same worries as she was. Whether Thorin saw what was happening or not, Balin had.

"I will keep a sharp eye out for trouble, Lady Firehammer," Balin whispered to Lina as the dwarves were dismissed. Lina squeezed his shoulder in thanks. There would be more than enough pressure on Thorin without him needing to constantly look over his shoulder for some unnamed evil.

**A/N: I have a tumblr account started up for this story. I'll be posting little things that I found while writing this story there. So if you're curious about something, send me a note on the tumblr and I'll answer it there. It's easier than on here I've discovered. :P Put lady-firehammer at the front of the address to find it.**


	19. The Heir

**Date: TA 2859**

**Thorin: 113 years old**

**Lina: 110 years old**

Lina and Kira, like the males before them, had been banished from Dis's birthing room. Kira, the ever independent swordswoman, was still snickering quietly over the midwife's words to the pair of warrior women.

"'You're as useless as the men!'" Kira shrilled, imitating—poorly—the midwife for Dwalin. The massive male dwarf just laughed that deep belly laugh of his. Kira, like the males, found the midwife to be highly entertaining. Her expulsion from the birthing chambers simply added to the notion many of them held that the midwife had entirely too high a value placed on her own self-importance.

Lina, however, sat quietly beside Thorin. For Kira the expulsion had been the punch line to a funny joke. For Lina it was a slap in the face. As the wife of Dis's elder brother, Lina had intended to help in the birth of her nephew. Dis had been glad of Lina's support throughout the previous nine months. Now, as her time drew near, Dis had begun to rely heavily on the knowledge of the older dwarven women. And these women did not approve of Lina.

With the disappearance of Thrain, Thorin had received the role of leader to the scattered dwarven people of Middle-Earth. When news spread of Thorin Oakenshield's rise to power and the growing wealth of his city, many had flocked to join his banner. The women who joined the banner were of a far different breed than those who had followed Thror and Thrain into exile. These women had never known the hardships and dire poverty Lina had faced. They'd never faced being without hope of food or shelter for lack of a male relative. They'd never had to fight for their place in society, for their right to live. Lina was a pariah. She had no male protector. It was quite clear to everyone that Lina operated independent of her husband. While he was the leader of the city—and Lina respected that authority—and he was her husband, he did not, by any means, control her as most husbands controlled their wives. In fact, Lina had essentially the same rights as her male counterparts, taking an active role in the leadership of the city and the military.

Lina had command over a loosely organized band of warriors with specialized skills the regular army couldn't incorporate. Thrain—and now Thorin—had kept the line breakers as part of a specialized grouping in the dwarven military. Both males had seen firsthand how effective having independently operating agents on the battlefield was. Thrain had, as a sign of respect for the female warrior, placed Lina in charge of all his freelance fighters. Over the years, she had collected a wide assortment of highly skilled dwarves. The line breakers were, of course, part of this unit. The unit included one dwarf with fairly weak, but consistent and effective earth magic. His skill lay in finding fissures in the ground below an enemy and exploiting those natural weaknesses. Twice he'd opened holes large enough to trap the enemy until the regular army could be brought to bear. There were a handful of berserkers. The commander of the regular army had sent the six fighters to Lina when he'd been unable to find a place suitable for them. All six had trained with Dain Ironfoot's army for a time, but Dain had been unable to use them any more effectively than Thorin's commander. They were extraordinarily strong and surprisingly fast. They required little to no specialized equipment and wore relatively little armor into battle. Lina had yet to find a lineup that could hold up beneath their attacks for any length of time. Of course, all tests had to be performed on the enemy. The berserkers in a full rage were a threat to their own people if no obvious enemy was present. A few of the specialists simply had bizarre weaponry not suited to any other unit. There was one pair of specialists who had become Lina's pride and joy. A brother-sister team had appeared at random from the far north. No one was quite sure where they'd originated from and they did not feel the need to enlighten anyone. Wherever they came from, Lina was glad to have them. They were highly skilled assassins, and surprisingly good when it came time to do battle. In a number of the small battles the dwarves still fought with the orcs and goblins of the Misty Mountains the team had gotten in behind the lines somehow and taken out the enemy's leader. The rest of these battles became simple cleanup jobs once the leadership was destroyed. The worst casualties had come from those caught in the flight path of retreating orcs. When news of the team's specialty leaked out, most of the dwarves had been scandalized. Thorin had allowed the team to stay once they, like their brothers- and sisters-in-arms, had sworn loyalty to the city and its inhabitants. Their continued presence, however, still set some of the newcomers off.

The combination of fierce independence and her command over a polarizing group of fighters made Lina something of an outcast among the new group of women. The women had practically chased her from the birthing room. Kira, who was practically a male now, thought it was hilarious. Lina did not. She enjoyed her independence, but there were some things she had enjoyed about being female. The rituals surrounding the birth of a child was something she had loved sharing with the other women when she'd been a child. There was so much hope and joy that filled a room during a birth. Lina had clung to those feelings as a child who had been shunned by her father. The desire to be a part of the birthing rituals had only grown stronger with the knowledge that she could never have children. Any son Dis had would be like a son to Lina as well. That son would be groomed to become Thorin's heir. Helping to raise the heir was the closest Lina could come to having children of her own.

Years earlier, before she had wed, the idea of children was ludicrous. Now she would give nearly anything to have even a daughter to pass on her skills to. Most dwarves never realized Lina was physically unable to conceive. They simply assumed she had chosen not to bear Thorin's offspring. This assumption brought some of the worst criticisms of her. No matter how often she or Thorin explained to someone that a wound prevented her from having children, another individual, louder than the last, would appear to decry Lina as a disgrace to all females.

Never before had Lina felt so utterly alone. Her only female companion, Kira, had no intentions of ever marrying anyone for any reason and despised the idea of having her own children. The males, well . . . The males would never understand her desire for her own child. Even Thorin could never understand the pain that gripped her heart so tightly. In this moment, Lina was completely alone.

A hand settled over her clasped hands. Looking up, Lina saw her husband watching her. There was worry and concern in his eyes. He didn't say a word, just tugged her closer to his side, his arm wrapping protectively around her shoulders. The simple gesture made Lina's heart feel so much lighter. No, Thorin could never understand this pain, no one could. Yet Lina was not alone. Thorin would make sure of that.

The wait dragged on. One by one, the other dwarves filtered out of the room until only Lina and Thorin were left waiting. Lina fell asleep beside him, his arm still wrapped about her.

It was in the wee hours of the morning that the door finally opened. Thorin woke Lina as the midwife and her assistants entered the room. She wore a broad smile as she addressed Thorin.

"The parents are ready to receive you, My Lord," she informed Thorin, bowing. The dwarven prince was on his feet in an instant. Lina followed him quickly into the birthing room, trying to ignore the midwife's sniff of derision as she passed.

Dis was propped up in bed, cradling her newborn. Her husband rested on the edge of the bed, peering into the child's face. Pride and joy radiated from her as she looked up at Thorin's approach.

"You have an heir," she whispered in breathless wonder. The tiny babe stirred as Thorin accepted him from Dis. The dwarven prince and his wife gazed down at the child. He had soft blonde hair, something that seemed out of place considering both of his parents had dark hair. His nose was most definitely from his mother's side. Lina smiled. There was a strong resemblance between the child and his uncle in their faces.

"What have you named him?" Lina asked finally.

"Fili."

As if awakened by the sound of his name, Fili opened his eyes and grinned up at his aunt. Lina was startled by the familiar blue eyes staring up at her from the tiny face. Thorin, noting her fascination with the child, passed the baby to her. Her hands trembled as she took Fili from her husband. The resemblance the child had to his uncle was incredible.

"You almost look more like his parents than we do," Dis laughed. "He has your face, Thorin, and your hair, Lina."

Lina simply smiled, stroking the child's hair. He was the closest she would ever come to having her own child.

"Fili," she murmured, "Heir to the Throne-Under-The-Mountain."

**A/N: I apologize for how late this chapter has gone up. I worked longer than I was supposed to today. Then I went to The Hobbit for the second time with a friend from my high school days. I can truly say that Thorin Oakenshield was keeping me from writing this chapter. **


	20. To Have a Son

**Date: TA 2864**

**Thorin: 118 years old**

**Lina: 115 years old**

The practice today had been fairly light. There were few new recruits to beat into shape. Most of the dwarves on the field had been present to spar with others of their similar skills. Earlier Dwalin had been down, trying his hand against his former mentor, Lina. The older female had managed to surprise the much stronger dwarven male with some tricks she'd kept secret even from him. The bout had ended in her favor, the younger warrior vowing to learn Lina's tricks one day.

With a smirk at Dwalin's promise, Lina began to remove her armor. She had just pulled her helm from her head when a speeding mass crashed into her legs, nearly knocking her over.

"Lina!" The warrior looked down, a smile on her face at the familiar voice. Clinging to her legs was her young nephew, Fili. Looking up, Lina caught sight of a heavily pregnant Dis making her way into the training grounds. The expectant mother smiled back at her.

"Can I watch you fight? Please, please, please?" The dwarf child looked up at her, his blue eyes wide and pleading. His little hands were clutching at the edge of Lina's tunic.

"I told him you'd just finish for the day, but he really wants to see you fight," Dis told her sister-bound. Lina looked back down at her nephew. He was barely five-years-old and was already taking a healthy interest in weaponry. There had been several occasions on which he'd appeared at the training grounds to watch his aunt and uncle train. Sometimes they would catch sight of him imitating their moves and facial expressions as he fought some imaginary foe.

"We can't disappoint him, now can we?" a much deeper voice said from behind Lina. The smile on her face broadened as her husband's hand settled on her shoulder. Thorin's face was lit by one of his rare full smiles. Lina saw those smiles more than most dwarves. Most only ever saw those half smiles he wore in which one side or the other of his mouth would curve upward and his blue eyes would sparkle briefly. He enjoyed showing off a bit for his heir.

"One round," Lina promised Fili. She replaced her helmet and allowed Thorin a chance to don his own armor. Neither dwarf intended for the battle to be nearly as serious or violent as some had been previously. Lina did not relish the idea of being battered and bruised the first time Dis's newest child saw her.

Fili was jumping up and down, cheering his aunt and uncle on. Thorin's mouth twitched as he tried to hold back a smile. The child was quite exuberant.

His cheers grew louder as the pair went at one another. The child seemed particularly delighted when Lina landed a blow with her hammer that sent Thorin rolling backwards. Thorin recovered quickly, his sword driving Lina back a few paces.

They had just begun to work up a sweat when the shrill cry split the air. In an instant the bout was over. Both raced to Dis's side. She had collapsed on the ground in agony.

"The baby," she panted, her hands clutching at her abdomen.

"Get her to the midwives," Lina ordered her husband, "I'll take care of Fili."

Thorin nodded and scooped his sister up in his arms. He strode toward the birthing chambers while Lina held Fili back. The child strained in his aunt's arms, trying to reaching his mother.

"Hush, child," Lina murmured in his ear. "Your mother will be fine."

"What's happening to her?" Fili gazed up fearfully at Lina.

"She's going to have a baby, a brother or sister for you to play with," she answered. At that, Fili's face brightened and his blue eyes cleared.

"Why don't you help me get these weapons put away and we'll go see your mother?" The suggestion worked beautifully. In an instant, the child's mind was taken off of the pain he'd seen Dis in.

It took Lina rather longer than she'd anticipated getting the child up to the birthing room. Once his mind had been turned to the weapons, he'd wanted Lina to show him how each one was held and used. He loved his uncle's sword, but was barely able to lift the heavy blade to place it on the rack. Lina made a mental note to begin Fili's weapons training early. He was already showing a strong interest in the swords and had a natural ease with the long knife he'd picked up.

Fili's energy level had dropped significantly by the time the pair reached the chamber just outside the birthing room, however it was not enough to allow his aunt a moment to relax. Thorin was sitting by himself when they approached. His lips quirked upwards at the amusement on his wife's face. Fili raced over to show his uncle the wooden practice blade he'd refused to relinquish possession of. With a little effort, he managed to perform a series of basic moves Lina had taught him in their short time together. Thorin carefully corrected his stance and grip on the blade.

As she was watching them, Lina felt the sadness return for one brief moment. Thorin would have made an excellent father. Though he tried to hide it, he had a truly caring heart. He loved his family more than his own life and would willing lay down his own to protect any one of them. Lina wondered sometimes if her inability to conceive was a disappointment to him. While his line was, for the moment, secure in Fili, it was not the same as having a son. Thorin looked up and caught her watching him. The sadness must have showed in her eyes, for concern filled his briefly. The look vanished when she smiled at him.

Thorin's attention returned to his nephew. Fili was such a bright youngling. The promise he was showing now, she hoped, would bud into something truly amazing. The males of Thorin's line were not weak in the martial skills. If what Lina was seeing was any indication, Fili would make an excellent fighter.

Within the hour, Fili's energy had completely run out. He sagged in his uncle's arms as he was lifted from the floor where he'd fallen asleep. Thorin stretched out on the rug, his young nephew resting on his chest.

"Join us," he requested of his wife. Lina gave a weary smile as she sank down beside him. One strong arm reached out to cradle her body while his other wrapped around their young charge.

"You still wish for a child, don't you?" he observed quietly.

"Yes," Lina admitted.

"He is as much our son as he is to Dis," Thorin told her, "As the heir, he must be."

"It's not the same."

"I know, love. I know."

Silence fell over the pair as they waited. By the time the midwife came to inform Thorin of his sister's child, all three were sound asleep on the floor.

**A/N: I'm getting slow with updating. Technically it's still the day after I posted the last chapter. Hopefully the next chapter will be easier to write. I'd started writing a completely different chapter originally, then scrapped it. We're getting ever closer to the quest!**


	21. Night and Day

**Date: TA 2879**

**Thorin: 133 years old**

**Lina: 130 years old**

Lina stood quietly, watching her two nephews training. Fili was practicing the sword dances he'd learned from Kira. Kili was firing arrow after arrow into a target. Both were becoming skilled warriors. Fili was just old enough to go out on one of the travelling parties which sometimes ventured out from Belegost.

It had been fifteen years since the birth of Dis's second son, Kili. The two children could not be more different from one another.

Fili's hair was coarse and blonde. Already it was getting quite long and he kept it braided and pulled back in a style almost identical to that of Thorin in his youth. The way he wore his hair, his prominent nose, and his startling blue eyes were so much like his uncle's that it was sometimes hard for Lina to believe that Fili was not actually Thorin's son. The young dwarf had his uncle's broad shoulders and sturdy body as well. At twenty, Fili was just beginning to grow out his own beard. Like his uncle, he did not want anything long or easily tangled as Dwalin and Balin both had. Instead, he kept his beard neatly trimmed, but he was trying to make the hair on his upper lip long enough to braid.

Kili on the other hand had his uncle's dark hair. He wore his soft brown locks in loose waves, never bothering to braid any of it back. His eyes were a dark brown. The shape of his head and body were far less blocky than his brother's. The broadness Fili possessed, Kili did not. He was smaller than most of his male year mates. Kili was still too young to begin growing his beard. Lina wondered if he'd ever manage to truly grow any facial hair. While Fili was quite obviously taking after his uncle, Kili was taking after his father. The boys' father had one of the scraggliest and sparsest beards Lina had ever seen.

The differences in the two went far beyond appearances. Lina knew their personalities so well that, given a phrase or sentence just as it had been spoken, she could tell exactly which brother had been speaking.

In personality, Fili was, again, most similar to Thorin. He was incredibly loyal, and tried his hardest to please the ones he held in high esteem. Both Thorin and Fili would go out of their way to do anything Lina asked of them. Both males were very protective. In the bouts Lina sometimes ran against Thorin and his nephews, Fili most often went down first. Being struck down first was not because Fili had no skill with weaponry. Quite the opposite! He was extremely fast and very strong. His training under Kira and Thorin made him a deadly swordsman. His early release from combat was often due to his protective nature. Lina had, on a number of occasions, been on the verge of striking down Kili through some foolish mistake the younger brother had made when suddenly Fili was there. Kili would be knocked backwards, away from the danger of Lina's blow. Fili would take the full force and be knocked out of the fight.

Fili's desire to please and habit of putting himself in danger to protect Kili infuriated Thorin more often than not. Lina was afraid the young male was beginning to believe his uncle hated him. Thorin had a bit of a temper and it seemed to come out most often around Fili. Fili was constantly being chastised for putting his brother before anything else. In the middle of a battle he could not throw away strategy and planning for the sake of one. He had to learn to think about the goal and not those who would be lost along the way. At least, that was what Thorin told him. After these lectures, once Thorin had gone, Fili would slump down against some wall by himself. His shoulders would be hunched in defeat, believing he was a disappointment to his idol. Lina made sure she was always on hand when Thorin was particularly hard on his heir. She had to explain to her young nephew that Thorin was so hard on him because he was trying to make Fili as strong as possible.

"You've seen that scar your uncle has on his side?" Lina asked.

"Yeah, the one he said Azog gave him?"

"That's right. He got it when his shield shattered. His shield shattered when he jumped in front of me, protecting me."

Fili's eyes had gone wide and Thorin had gone up one more step in the child's esteem. He had begun to realize, with Lina's help, that Thorin did love him. The young dwarf learned to temper his desire to protect with a little more strategy based on Lina's suggestions. His "death" in the bouts became less frequent though he would still defend his brother whenever he realized Kili could not protect himself.

Kili was far more like Frerin than Thorin. His emotions frequently overruled his common sense, leading him into more trouble than he'd bargained for. Things came out of his mouth that made even hardened warriors used to hearing stupid things stop and stare. No matter how many times one of them drove the younglings around the training arena in a brutal training session to knock the common sense into him, Kili just did not get it. Nothing the older dwarves did seemed to be able to get through to him. He was about as thick as a wall and very impulsive. However, he was exceptionally loyal to whoever earned his loyalty.

While he usually survived longer in bouts than his brother, thanks to Fili's protection, he was the most likely to get himself into trouble. All Lina had to do was somehow insult his pride and he would charge at her without thinking of the consequences. On Kili, Lina was just as hard as Thorin was on Fili. Thorin was training his heir. Lina was protecting the next in line. Kili had to be ready should anything happen to his older brother. Lina did not want to lose Kili the same way Frerin and Ona had been lost, through foolish impulsiveness. Unlike with Fili, the criticisms Lina gave Kili rarely seemed to do any damage to his ego or self-esteem. Most things just bounced off of him. It took Lina a very long time to break some of his bad habits and implant good ones, but when she was successful Kili never forgot the lessons she had taught.

Both of the brothers were hard workers and very eager to learn. Kili preferred the bow to the sword, but was sufficiently good in melee combat. Fili favored a sword longer and heavier than his uncles. Fili, however, had picked up something from his aunt. Like Lina, the younger dwarf had knives hidden all over his body. For his last birthday, Lina had arranged for her assassins to teach him how to use a set of throwing knives she'd given him. In addition to his sword, Fili usually carried at least six other blades. His two favorites could be inserted into the soles of his boots.

"Do you think Fili is ready to go out into the world for a time?" Thorin asked, coming up behind his wife.

"I assume he'd be with one of the trading parties," she answered.

"Of course. He's not ready to be completely alone just yet." The dwarf crossed his arms over his chest and watched as Fili executed a lightning quick spin and strike. Lina could see the pride in his eyes. As much as Thorin tried to hide it, he was extremely proud of his nephew. The young dwarf was quickly growing into one who would be a strong leader.

"Will you be going with us?" Lina wondered aloud. She had secured a spot for herself in this trading group. It had been some time since she had last left the city, and she was anxious to see the outside world.

"I can't," her husband replied, "I've business to attend to regarding the Iron Hills."

Lina nodded and turned her attention back to the brothers. Fili had just finished his bout with Kira and was heading in their direction.

"Fili!" Thorin called. The younger dwarf jogged over to his uncle.

"Yes, uncle?"

"Are you ready to go out with the trading group?"

Fili's eyes brightened. He'd never been outside the city of Belegost. For a young dwarf eager to have adventures, this was akin to going on a quest of legendary proportions.

"Of course, sir," he managed finally. Lina smiled. The youngling was trying hard to hide his excitement, not wanting his uncle to think him too young or immature.

"Go pack your things," Thorin ordered gruffly, trying to hide his own amusement.

"We leave in two days," Lina added.

Fili nodded and was off like a shot once dismissed. Lina just smiled and planted a kiss on her husband's cheek before heading to retrieve her own armor. The trading trip would be a good experience for the young dwarf, and a good chance for Lina to test out his abilities.


	22. Stories in the Fire

**Date: TA 2879**

**Thorin: 133 years old**

**Lina: 130 years old**

The warriors of the trading group stretched out around a bright fire, laughing and talking. Laughter roared up from the gathering as Kira related yet another tale of her last goblin hunt. The scarred female acted out each of her characters, giving the goblin as horrid squeaky voice and a brain no bigger than a dust mote. She, of course, characterized herself like Dwalin did in his own stories: as the mighty and fearless warrior with the best looks and finest beard in the world.

Her antics drew laughter from even Lina. The line breaker looked over at her nephew perched on a stump beside her. His eyes were wide with fascination. Never before had Fili seen his mentor like this. Nor had he seen any of the older dwarves like this before. Most of them were so serious even when among friends. Kira had always been the most relaxed of any dwarf while she was within the city, but even she did not act as she wished in the presence of others. Not all the dwarves now in Thorin's following would understand the camaraderie the group shared. These dwarves frowned upon Kira and her friends as if they were young children to be scolded. None of the "respectable" dwarves of Belegost knew the hurt these older warriors were hiding. It was only when they were travelling for one purpose or another that they felt free to express themselves.

When the laughter had begun to die back, they all turned to the youngest member of their company. Fili still looked surprised by what he had seen and heard. His blue eyes were as wet as the others' from laughter, yet all could see the question on his lips.

"What is it, youngling?" Dwalin asked, still snickering.

"Why are you so serious at home, but not now?" His blue eyes landed on each dwarf, ending with his aunt.

"How much has anyone told you about the War of the Dwarves and Orcs?" Lina asked. She knew Thorin had made mention of it on occasion, but she didn't think he'd come even close to telling his nephew all of it. For too many of them, Thorin included, the War was still raw and painful.

"Only a little," the young dwarf admitted.

"I think it's time you knew the full story then," Lina answered. The other dwarves nodded in agreement.

"Many years ago, long before you were born, our people were forced to flee our homeland because of the dragon Smaug. Of him you have heard a great deal, I am sure. However, his coming left us without a home. Many of us followed King Thror into exile, always searching for a new home," Lina paused. She pointed out the dwarves who had fled Erebor. Dwalin had been just a youngling when the dragon came, though he like the others remembered the flames. Most had not been born until just after the coming of Smaug. Of the group, only three had lived in Erebor, Lina among them.

"On the road and without hope, King Thror travelled to the Mines of Moria in the hopes of reclaiming them for our people. There he met a foul creature, the likes of which has not been seen on Middle-Earth for generations, Azog the Defiler." The name was spat out as it had been many years earlier. The dwarves old enough to remember the name of the pale orc added their own sounds of disgust and derision. All of the dwarves in the group were of an age to remember the King's murder, with the exception of Fili.

"King Thrain took the throne and declared war upon the orcs, determined to avenge his father and retake our halls. Because of the insult Azog had given our people, all dwarves called upon for aid answered. The war last nearly ten years. Many orcs and their strongholds fell before the might of the dwarven armies. Soon Azog drew his forces back to Moria and we prepared for a final assault on the eastern gate." Lina looked around the group. They all remembered that assault.

"We were all young then," Dwalin said softly, picking up the tale. "My cousin, Gloin, was barely sixteen when he went into battle with us. We won the battle, Azog was destroyed, and the orc hordes fled Moria."

Fili looked confused.

"If you won, then why do we not inhabit Moria instead of Belegost?"

Kira looked up, the fire light catching on her disfigured face. The bitter and angry tears at the memories had begun to streak down her cheeks, highlighting her scars as the tears flowed into them.

"Because we were too few." Kira clenched her shaking hands into fists as she remembered those she'd lost.

Tears had appeared on the faces of the other warriors who remembered that day. The sight of the dead returned.

"Our strength was cut in half," Lina answered slowly. "We all lost someone that day. Our sisters, our fathers, our brothers, and our friends fell on that field to never rise again. Those of us who survived were left without even the means to properly bury our dead."

"My father was among the burned ones," Dwalin said softly.

"My sister," added Kira.

"My brother," one of the warriors put in.

"My uncle," said another.

Lina was the only one who had not lost a relative on the field, but she had lost her best friend.

"We laugh when we can," Kira said, answering Fili's earlier question. "The dwarves in Belegost do not know what we went through that day. They look down on us for trying to hide the pain, to forget the loss, because they do not understand. For them, the Battle of Azanulbizar is a source of pride, to say that one relative or another fought and died there. Yet they are so far removed from it."

She went silent as a rarely seen anger began to creep into her voice. Lina laid a careful hand on her friend's arm to still the building rage.

"When we are among other warriors, they understand. We do not have to pretend any longer." Lina turned to look at Fili.

The youngling nodded his understanding. Thorin had never told him how many had died in the war. Never had Fili realized just how many of the dwarves he looked up to had been hurt in that war.

"No use wallowing in past misery," Dwalin finally announced his voice a bit harsh with sorrows. He cleared his throat and began a rousing song that they all joined, eager to leave behind their sorrows.

Later that night, as the fire died down, Lina took the first watch. Her companions settled down to sleep around the coals of their fire. The merchants had long since gone to bed around their own fire. The guard on duty for their little circle was Kira. The warriors were taking turns watching over the merchants.

Watching the darkness gave Lina the chance to think. Fili had gotten just the merest hint of what all the dwarven survivors carried in their hearts. He did not understand that sort of pain, and she hoped he never would.

A foul odor appeared on the wind. Lina caught it and shot a look at Kira. Her friend had smelled it as well. The odor grew stronger as something began moving in the brush. Lina brought up her hammer and nudged Fili awake. The finger over her lips kept him absolutely silent before she motioned for him to wake the others.

Dwalin was beside her in an instant. His weapons were at the ready.

"What is it?" he hissed.

"Not sure, but it smells foul, like goblin, and is far too close to use for me to be comfortable," Lina murmured back.

"Get the merchants up and ready to move," Dwalin order Fili and one of the other dwarves. As they did so, the rest of the warriors formed a tight ring around the camp. Whatever was in the brush had stopped just at the edge of the camp. The light from smoldering fires caught eerily in its eyes, but did not reveal its nature.

Kira bared her teeth and growled at the creature. It merely stood quietly, watching them for a moment longer, before vanishing into the brush once more.

"We do not stop until we reach a town in the Hills of Evendim," Lina informed Dwalin. "I don't want whatever that was catching us out again. It didn't do anything tonight, but it was far more intelligent than any mere animal. It knew we'd smelled it and it simply watched us. I don't trust it."

"Agreed." The dwarves moved out the moment the last of their belongings had been gathered. Lina and Kira moved at the head of the column. Dwalin and his cousin Gloin brought up the rear, guarding their backs. The rest of the warriors spread out along the length of the column, keeping an eye and an ear out for whatever the creature had been.


	23. A Chance for Gold

**Date: TA 2879**

**Thorin: 133 years old**

**Lina: 130 years old**

After another night and a day of travelling, the dwarven caravan made it to the first town of Men in the Hills of Evendim. Whatever had approached the group during the first night had not gone away. Lina had made sure her warriors were alert at all time, often rotating their positions in the caravan. The creature was always present. They could all smell it. Sometimes one of them caught a glimpse of it in the trees, following them.

Whatever was following the dwarves was terrorizing the Hills as well. What Lina knew had once been a simply village appeared to have been quickly fortified. The villagers were afraid to even open the gates. It took some convincing for Lina to get the villagers to let them in. Once inside, the villagers slammed heavy bars across the gates.

"What's happened?" one of the merchants asked the town's leader.

"We don't know for sure. Just a couple of weeks ago, just before the start of harvest, a young girl went missing along with her sheep. Search parties went out to find her, but came back empty-handed. Six other people have vanished the same way," the Man told them.

The townspeople gathered around the caravan were frightened and disheveled. Dark rings encircled their eyes, attesting to their many sleepless nights. So many of them had stood watch over their families, fearing that, at any moment, the thing stealing their loved ones would break into their homes. The men on the hastily constructed walls were exhausted from keeping watch night after night.

"Who's still awake enough to take watches?" Lina called back to her warriors. All of them responded positive though she knew they were also tired. They too had seen the fear in the villagers' eyes. None of these people were fighters, Lina's dwarves were.

"Get your people off the walls and into their own homes," Lina told the leader, "My warriors will take the watches for the rest of the night. We're fresher than your people and trained to handle any intruders."

The leader hesitated for a moment before agreeing. He shouted to the men on the walls that the dwarven warriors would be replacing them. Lina saw the merchants to the town's lodging house, bidding them a good night before taking her own place on the walls. Night fell quickly and heavily around the villages. Just before retiring to their homes, the townsfolk brought up torches for their protectors.

Lina listened as bars dropped into place before every door in the village. Even with trained warriors on the walls, the people were still terrified of whatever lay outside the gates in the darkness. The other dwarves remained stationary while Lina walked a circuit to speak briefly with each. They would report any movement in the darkness. If they sighted anything they were to call like an owl.

Fili's owl call pulled Lina out of a hushed conversation she'd been having with one of the other warriors. Trying not to seem hurried, Lina moved over to her nephew. Wordlessly he pointed into the darkness. There, just as the edge of the torchlight, were those eyes. This time they were not alone.

The smell caught the attention of the other warriors. Weapons were gripped tighter as the creatures appeared in a ring around the village. A rumbling growl echoed up from the darkness.

"Wargs," Kira whispered to her friend. She'd seen a number of them before, even fought them. However, no one had heard of Wargs ringing villages like this. Not this far west anyway.

"They're testing us, our resolve," someone murmured in the darkness.

"What do we do?" Fili asked his aunt.

"We wait," she answered, her eyes fixed on one of the creatures. These beasts did not dare come into the torchlight while the warriors stood guard. Mere farmers would never be able to hold their own against these creatures if they decided to attack, but trained warriors, as few as they were, could do enough damage to make the pack think twice.

The night moved slowly for the tensed warriors. It seemed the Wargs were looking for some weakness in the town's defenses, but they never came close enough for any of the dwarves to see them clearly.

By the time the sun appeared on the horizon, the pack had utterly vanished. The townsfolk began to emerge from their dwellings, curious to see if their dwarven protectors had stood watch throughout the night. None of the dwarves had moved from their assigned positions the entire night. Each still clutched their weapons, ready to use them if necessary.

Lina, Dwalin, and Kira organized the few guardsmen the village possessed so that their own warriors could take some much needed rest. The headman appeared shortly after to arrange quarters for the warriors. The trio of dwarves requested his assistance in devising some sort of plan to destroy this pack. With the pack prowling around the settlement, the people could neither bring in their harvest nor tend to their remaining animals.

"Can you do anything about those monsters?" the man asked. He, like his people, was clearly frightened.

"It's possible," Kira answered. "We'd need to be able to find their lair. Obviously this pack is rather weak or they wouldn't hide in the light of day."

The scarred female glanced at her companions before continuing. Kira was the most experienced when it came to fighting wargs. She frequently travelled with groups going as far as the Iron Hills to bring news and goods back and forth between the two peoples. These travels had brought her into conflict with a number of warg packs, some of which had left new scars on her body.

"If we can find their lair, was could try to collapse the tunnel on them. Bury them alive, you know. Best way to make sure none escape would be to ring the area with fire. They won't cross it. The stuff scares them." Kira paused thoughtfully.

"Fighting wargs is a nasty business," Dwalin put in, thinking of a couple scars he'd received from their claws. "Even amateur fighters don't fight wargs for free."

"Our gold is of little value to us while we remain trapped here," the headman answered, knowing what the dwarves sought. "Kill the beasts and bring back their heads. You shall have all that we can give you."

The dwarves grinned. Gold was something they had not seen for some time.

**A/N: I'm technically late with this chapter. Sorry guys. :P I spent most of my day at work. But happy new year!**


	24. Glittering Gold

**Date: TA 2879**

**Thorin: 133 years old**

**Lina: 130 years old**

Red light filtered over the land as the sun began to sink below the horizon. The last of the people who'd ventured beyond the gates today raced back in, allowing the gates to shut tightly behind them. Lina watched as the human guards began to take their places on the walls. They were wielding strong dwarven bows and equipped with fire arrows. If the wargs dared to approach during the night, to attack, then the humans would let fly the flaming arrows.

During that day the dwarven warriors had taken the time to lay out a plan of attack. Kira, as the most experienced warg fighter, had taken the lead on strategy and planning. For once, Lina was glad not to be in command of something. It left her free to make sure her young nephew, and Thorin's heir, stayed alive. The hunt was going to be dangerous, and it was possible that some of them would not come back if things did not go as they hoped.

The dwarves had made use of the local forge to sharpen their weapons and make any repairs necessary to their armor. Their gear was still in good shape as it had been thoroughly checked before the caravan set off. However, none of them wanted the wargs being able to find a weakness.

Kira had given each warrior their assignment. Fili and one of the other dwarves would act as trackers. With the group setting off as soon as the sun lit the sky, they needed those with the sharpest eyes following the pack back to their den. Kira was heading up a small band of close combat melee warriors. They were going to be positioned directly in front of the den's entrance to drive back whatever attempted to escape. The archers among them would set fires in a ring around the den, keeping the flames between them and the wargs. Positioned on boulders or up in trees, the archers would be in a position to pick off any wargs who were not in the den at the time of attack or came back during the attack. Lina and Dwalin would each head up a small group who would try to collapse the den. The den, if it contained any wargs of any great size at all, would be more than large enough for the line breakers to use their hammers. That was if they ended up having to enter the den.

Lina did not really want to think about having to go into the den. If they were forced to enter the den, some of the melee warriors would stay back to guard the archers while the rest, Kira included, would follow the line breakers in. Entering the den would put the dwarves at a significant disadvantage. For one, they had no idea exactly how many wargs they were up against. For another, warg dens had one entrance and multiple passages leading deeper in. There might only be one of two if the den was as small as they hoped. If it was any bigger, well, Lina only hoped they could get enough fireballs down inside while they worked to collapse the den. She would have given just about anything for her earth shifter right then. His magic could at least find the den's weaknesses even if it couldn't bring the roof down.

Now, despite what has been said of dwarves to this point, dwarves are not heroic creatures. They are brave, yes. Strong, most definitely. Yet, as in the past, Men most often are those who slay the dragons or other beasts which have taken possession of a dwarven treasure. So, you see, dwarves are not by their nature terribly heroic, or at least not in the legendary sense. Love of treasure is what drives dwarves to perform the most heroic feats, or at least to attempt them. Many of the dwarves who remained in the following of Thror, Thrain, and Thorin had not seen any amount of treasure since fleeing Erebor. What little wealth the settlement in the Blue Mountains possessed was only in more common metals, poorer quality stones, and a little silver. Gold had not been seen in the halls of these dwarves in many years.

Lina desired, as did her companions, to bring the first gold back into the halls of the dwarves. Though they pitied the frightened humans, the chance at gold was what was driving them. Sympathy and pity did not keep the dwarves strong. Nor did it put food in the mouths of their young. Certainly the town was not the wealthiest town by any means, but even they possessed far more gold than the dwarves of Belegost did at that moment. It was this desire to rise from poverty that drove the dwarves into this mad venture of destroying a warg den.

As the sun sank behind the horizon and the torches were lit, the dwarven warriors took what rest they could. The merchants had volunteered to wake the warriors at the first hint of the sun's return for they too desired gold. Lina had started to lay back against the wall when she noticed her nephew playing nervously with the knife in his armguard.

"You should get some rest, youngling," she told him.

"How can I?" he asked softly. Lina drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"What exactly is troubling you?"

Fili was silent for a time as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

"I've never killed anyone or anything," he replied finally. "I guess, maybe, I'm worried about who might die tomorrow. Kira said she lost two dwarves the last time she went up against wargs."

"Her group was also ambushed last time. This time, we will be ambushing them. That should cut down on casualties," Lina pointed out.

"'Should'?"

"Death is something we must learn to face, Fili. You've heard the stories we tell of the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. All of us have worried about who is or is not coming home when everything is said and done. However, dwelling on what might be distracts you from what is happening now. You take what moments of rest you can, leaving the future to sort itself out. Anyone desiring to earn their living with the strength of their arm must learn that lesson and learn it well." Her voice fell silent as she watched the young dwarf process what she had said.

"Have you ever felt like this?" he asked finally. Fili looked up at her, his blue eyes questioning.

"A very long time ago, on the night before the Battle of Azanulbizar. Thorin found me sitting by myself, afraid of losing everyone I loved. He said something to me that made me realize if you truly love someone, they will never leave you. It does not matter what happens to their body. That may indeed die. However, their memory, if kept alive in you, will keep them alive. Hold the ones you love close in body while you can, but be willing to let those bodies go when their time comes. Your memories of those you love will keep you both alive." Lina rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. A small smile appeared on his face as he gripped her hand.

"Good night, Fili," Lina whispered. She squeezed his shoulder before returning to her bedroll. The night was to be a short one, and the next day would be long. There was nothing more she could do for Fili.

Lina did, however, watch him for a few moments longer. With a soft sigh, the youngling leaned back in his own bedding. A few moments later, she heard the quiet sound of his breathing as he slipped into slumber. A fond smile curved her lips upward as she drifted off to sleep. He would do just fine.

A nudge at Lina's side woke her up with a jolt far earlier than she would have liked. Dwalin nodded to her as he moved to awaken Fili. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Lina stored her bedroll and other gear before donning her armor. Her knives were tucked into their proper places over her body.

It was difficult for her hide a smile as she watched Fili storing his own knives. He had more knives than she did even. There were the two knives in his boots, one in each armguard, at least two more inside his coat, and one very obviously displayed on his hip. His long sword was strapped across his back, kept out of the way until the fighting began.

Once the dwarves were armed and ready, Kira began to lead them out into the town square. A number of the townsfolk who'd heard about the dwarves' intentions had gathered around to see them off. Lina had a very brief twinge of guilt shoot through her as she gazed around her. The people were terrified. Mothers clutched their children to their breasts. Husbands held their wives close. The guilt passed quickly as she glanced at her comrades. Scars could be seen on all but Fili. Her people had lived a hard life, too hard a life to go up against wargs for free.

The sun began to shine higher in the sky. One of the guards above the gate gave the signal. The wargs had vanished with the darkness.

"Good luck to you," the headman told them. "We anxiously await your return."

The dwarves bowed solemnly in response. Then they turned and trooped out of the settlement. Fili and the other tracker took a moment to locate the direction the wargs had ended up going. They signaled their companions. The hunt was on.

The trail led the dwarves further into the hills, into an area far rockier than the land around the town. A couple times the trackers lost the trail and they all had to pause. Kira rocked back and forth impatiently every time they were forced to stop. She was anxious that the band would be caught outside in the dark. If that happened, there was no telling what would happen to them.

Relief always suffused the group once they were able to move again. At least in moving the dwarves felt they were getting somewhere in their mission. Shortly before midday, the trackers brought the warriors to a halt. There was more evidence of warg activity in the area they were about to enter. They were drawing near the den.

As quietly as they could, the armed company crept forward, keeping a sharp eye out for any stray beasts. Before long, they could smell the stench of the beasts. Just over the edge of a rocky outcropping, they found the entrance to the den. One warg was just slinking back into its hole. A check revealed no additional openings in the earth. With a nod, the warriors spread out enough to set their fires in a ring around the entrance. Archers were booted up into trees or onto the highest rocks they could find all around the den.

As close to simultaneously as they could, the dwarves lit the fires. A ring bloomed up from the earth. The scent of fire brought two wars rushing from the den. The archers picked them off quickly. More wargs began to appear. All were smaller than some Lina had seen, but she did not want to get within range of those teeth or claws. Kira's band was kept busy. What the archers did not manage to bring down, she and her people were forced to fight. Lina and Dwalin broke off from the fight with their bands, searching for the best way to collapse the den.

The den was solid from the exterior. It had literally been dug into the hard earth. The entrance sloped sharply downward, offering no view from the exterior of the interior's design.

"Kira!" Lina shouted over the tumult. Her friend dispatched the warg with a slash across the throat and nodded her understanding. They were going in. Lighting the torches at their belts, the warriors drove the wargs back into their den. Several of the warriors, those previously chosen, stayed outside the den, guarding the archers.

Dwalin was the first into the den. His hammer crushed the skull of one warg as it turned on him. The other warriors went in next. Lina followed at the end. She was the only other line breaker in the group. If things got bad, the dwarves were going to need an escape route.

So far things were going as well as could be expected. One dwarf had been seriously injured and left with the archers for safety. There was only one tunnel inside the den. It was down this tunnel that the dwarves chased the wargs. Lina wondered vaguely why these wargs were so small.

She got her answer as the tunnel opened into the only chamber the den contained. The dwarves stopped short of the tunnel's end as the wargs came to bay. Rising up from the hard packed floor of the den was the largest warg in the den.

"Aulë protect us," one of the dwarves gasped. Even Kira looked slightly pale at the sight of the warg.

The warg was easily twice the size of those around her. Massive scars ran over her powerful form, attesting to her prowess in combat. A rumbling growl grew from her throat, heard clearly over top of the others. She was the pack mother. A litter of warg pups only a few weeks old could be seen beneath the milling bodies of the older wargs. The dwarves had run right into a birthing den.

The warg let out a terrible howl, sending the others into a frenzy. One or two of the dwarves nearly lost their minds at her cry. The remaining wargs took heart and began to advance on the dwarves.

"Throw the fire!" Kira screamed to her kin. Lina lobbed a blazing ball of pitch into the writhing mass. The others followed suit. Howls of pain erupted as the burning material spattered over the wargs. The fire frightened the pack mother enough that even she drew back.

Dwalin began breaking through the line of wargs at the tunnel's mouth. Kira followed in short order. The den echoed with cries of pain, both from the wargs and from the dwarves. One dwarf went down, a massive claw having gone through his head.

Lina watched in horror as the pack mother turned from the dwarf she had just killed and focused on Fili. The young dwarf leapt clear of her vicious swipe in the nick of time. His sword flashed in the torchlight, drawing blood from her paw.

The howl seemed to shake the earth itself. Suddenly every warg in the den focused on Fili. He had wounded the pack mother. One warg rammed Fili from the side, sending him sprawling on the hard ground. His sword skittered under the feet of the advancing beasts. A knife produced from his coat kept the warg from doing any serious damage as it sank into the creature's throat. He was on his feet in an instant, a knife in both hands.

Lina and Kira raced to the young dwarf's aid. Kira's sword cut down several wargs from one side while Lina's hammer shattered the bodies of those on the other side. The pack mother snarled as the two female warriors appeared before her, defending the male who'd wounded her. Kira managed to distract the pack mother long enough for Lina to give Fili her own two long knives. They were of more use in a melee than his throwing knives or shorter daggers. He accepted them just in time to cut down a warg flying at him.

With the pack mother's attention diverted, the remaining dwarves were able to cut through the smaller wargs with relative ease. The pack mother, however, would not go down so easily. Her jaws took out two more dwarves before Fili dove in behind her and hamstrung her. The massive creature collapsed as her hind legs gave way. Within a few moments, the fight had come to an end.

The surviving dwarves broke into two groups. One group went through the den, tunnel, and area just outside the den, making sure the wargs were all dead. The other group searched for their dead and wounded. Of the twenty-five dwarves who had attacked the den, only six were dead. One had died outside and five had died within.

Sleds were constructed from the rough vegetation surrounding the den. These were used to carry the dead, the two dwarves too wounded to walk, and the heads of some of the wargs. They all agreed that they could not bring every warg head back to the settlement. It was decided that only the pack mother's head, the heads of four of her older offspring who had likely been the ones surrounding the town, and the bodies of her newest pups would be taken back to the village. If those body parts and the bodies of the dead did not convince the headman of the veracity of their claim, then nothing would.

Wounds were bound up as best they could before they began the journey back to the town. Darkness had fallen by the time the weary band reached the settlement.

"We are victorious! The beasts are dead!" Dwalin called to the guards on duty. There was the sound of great commotion behind the gates before they flew open to allow the dwarves entrance.

The dwarves entered the town with their burdens, and the people came flooding out of their homes to see them. Lina helped her kin place the heads and bodies of the wargs in a line for the headman to see. The people drew back in fear as two of the dwarves lifted the pack mother's head from the pile. Shock and awe shone of the faces of all those present as they stared at the dwarven warriors.

"You have more than earned your reward," the headman whispered, gazing with horror upon the pack mother's head. Two men appeared from the building behind him, laden with leather pouches. These were presented to the dwarves for inspection.

Lina felt her spirits rise as she gazed for the first time in many years upon the shine of gold. It glittered in the light of the torches, captivating her for a moment. She was willing to bet that she and her people had just earned more gold in that day than any of the dwarves in Belegost had seen in the last century.

Fili rested his hand one his aunt's shoulder and smiled. The dwarves of Belegost would have gold once more.

**A/N: I hope you can forgive the late chapter. I saw The Hobbit for the third time today. I now have a nice outline for once we get into the actual events of that tale. For now, we have a few more chapters before getting there. Hope you enjoy this chapter. It's certainly longer than the last few I've posted.**


	25. Protecting Treasure

**Date: TA 2879**

**Thorin: 133 years old**

**Lina: 130 years old**

The gates of Belegost appeared at the dwarves crested the hill. Their journey was nearly at an end. Lina walked quietly beside her friend, Kira. The pair had talked little since the journey home had begun. In fact, few of the warriors spoke at all. They were happy to have gold, true. But their hearts ached with the loss of their six companions.

While the merchants had completed their business, the warriors had carefully embalmed their dead, to prepare them for burial upon the return to Belegost. Word had been sent back to the city to have six tombs ready for their return. Lina's hand was heavy as she wrote the names of the dead, noting the final moments of each and listing the possessions they had brought on the journey. Once more she felt that twinge of guilt. Was the gold really worth the lives of her kin? The answer was always "yes." Lina remembered all too well the poverty her people had struggled under. She remembered the starving children as they wandered the wilderness. There had been no gold or silver to save them then. The dead warriors had chosen the gold knowing they might die in the pursuit of it. Still she sometimes wondered.

The bodies of the dead had been carefully wrapped and laid out in one of the wagons. In addition to the bodies of their dead and the gold, the dwarves also brought back one special prize: the pack mother's head. The dwarves would see the creature their kin had died defeating. At least the burden on their hearts might be lighter knowing the killer was dead as well. The surviving dwarves all had their own scars to show as they told the tale.

Fili had taken a slash across his chest. His armor had taken the brunt of the blow, but the warg's claw had managed to cut through it. The wound had been simple to treat, but he would have a scar for the rest of his days. Lina had simply buried her face in her hands, unsure whether to be amused or exasperated with the youngling's joy that he would have a battle scar.

Kira's wounds, as those of the other melee warriors, were numerous, but shallow. They had taken most of the slashes with their much heavier armor and shields. Those that had not been killed had relatively little damage. Most had only scratches and bruises. Kira's wounds would fade into the rest of her scars and become almost invisible.

Lina's own wounds were minor. Her upper left arm had a slash that had to be stitched shut. A few smaller cuts showed over the collar of her leather breastplate. The most painful of the wounds was a sprain in her wrist which made holding her hammer properly difficult.

Two of the wounded were being carried in another of the merchant wagons. These had taken damage to their legs which prevented them from walking or riding. However, even these were relatively minor and would heal relatively quickly.

The gates of Belegost opened to the caravan. Just inside the gates a crowd was waiting. The families of the dead stood to one side, waiting to receive their loved ones. Lina had made certain to have Thorin notify the families. Once the wagons had rolled to a stop, Dwalin and Gloin began to lift the bodies from the back of the wagon. Each was laid out before their family, their belongings placed beside them. Lina gave what comfort she could to the grieving. Each family received what gold had been the allotted share of the deceased.

The dwarves of the caravan, the warriors in particular, had divided the gold up as they thought best. Half of the total was set aside to be placed in common coffers for the benefit of the city of Belegost. The other half was divided up. The warriors agreed to give the merchants some for the use of their wagons and for their part in getting the dwarves prepared for the attack. Each merchant's share, however, was far smaller than what each warrior received. The shares among the warriors were equal, including those of the deceased. It was the best they could come up with.

Kili appeared from the crowd behind Thorin and threw himself at his older brother in excitement. Lina smiled at her young nephews' antics. Fili was just as excited to see Kili, and, if her ears did not deceive her, Lina heard Fili's promise to show Kili his battle wound.

The youngling's exuberant greeting spurred others on to greet their own loved ones. Most greeted siblings or friends, Gloin was met by one of the prettiest dwarves in the city. Thorin smiled as he folded Lina in his embrace. When his wife had sent word they had encountered a warg pack, he'd been worried. It was not a worry that she could not take care of herself, but the worry that a husband has when his wife may face some danger.

"I am glad to see you are safe, my love," he murmured against her ear. "I have missed you these long days since you left."

"I missed you too," she whispered, smiling up at him. "We have a few more things to unload."

Lina pulled away to help Dwalin lift the pack mother's head from the wagon. The sight of the monster's head sent shock waves through the gathered dwarves. Even Thorin looked surprised at the size of the creature's head. Kira lifted down the massive bag of gold. Both items were presented to Thorin, as the city's leader. He directed the warg's head be mounted as a testament to the power of his people and the gold taken to the treasury.

Once the wagons had been unloaded and the bodies taken away, Lina rejoined her husband.

"Fili managed to get a wound?" he looked curiously at Lina.

"He got knocked over by a warg and the claws went through his armor. Those knives he keeps everywhere came in handy. Though he now has expressed interest in learning to wield two shorter blades instead of one long blade," she paused. "He did himself proud in that fight. It was his quick thinking and skill that brought the pack mother down for us to finish off."

Thorin smiled at that. Fili was coming along nicely then.

"How long before Kili is clamoring to go on his own adventure?" Lina asked her husband as they entered their bedroom.

Thorin chuckled, "He is already. The moment he found out Fili was going, he wanted to go too."

"Of course he did." Lina placed her pack and purse of gold on the table. She began to remove her armor, setting each piece on the stand as she did so. Thorin's hands quickly joined hers, helping to divest her of the rest of her gear. Once she'd been stripped down to the loose shirt and leather breeches she wore beneath her armor, Thorin turned her to face him.

"Let me look at your arm," he requested. Hiding a smile at his needless worry, Lina held her arm out for him to examine. The area around the slash was not infected or hot, and the wound seemed to be stitching together just fine. It did hurt to mess with it though. Thorin's hands stilled as he accidentally pulled at the sensitive flesh.

For a long moment the pair stood silently. Lina watched her husband as he ran his hands tenderly over her body. He was unusually quiet tonight. Well, quiet was normal for him. He tended to brood rather more than most dwarves. However, this silence puzzled Lina. His brow was knit with concentration and concern.

"Why did you go after the wargs?" he asked finally. Lina raised an eyebrow at the question.

"We were offered gold for the job. That's something none of us had seen in years. What dwarf won't brave impossible odds for their treasure?" Thorin's face cleared as he smiled ruefully. Lina knew he would have done what she did. The lure of gold was just a little too strong for dwarves who had known poverty for far too long.

"I understand," he told her gently. "But every wound you earn in battle reminds me of the days I spent waiting for you to awake after the Battle of Azanulbizar. It shouldn't frighten me, but it does." His large, rough hands gently tucked a wayward strand of her hair behind an ear.

"You bring out a very protective side of me," he informed her. "I know you don't need protecting. I've watched you do more damage with one swing of your hammer than I do with ten swings of my sword and axe. I still want to keep you safe from harm."

Lina's face turned pink under his attention. It was nice that he recognized her skills. But sometimes it was nice to be reminded she was a woman. At least she didn't mind it when Thorin was the one doing it. He was the only one who could get away with saying anything like that simply because Lina knew he was not putting her down. He was not denigrating her. It was his way of showing affection for her.

"You can do something to protect me," she told him slowly. He looked surprised at her words.

"How?"

Lina smiled playfully, drawing one finger down the side of his face.

"Well, I am wounded. I need someone to protect me while I sleep. Preferably someone big and strong," she purred, kissing the tip of his long nose. A slow smile of understanding spread over his face.

"I think I can manage that," he answered. With that he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to their bed. "I can protect my treasure."

**A/N: Hey guys. First, I just wanted to thank everyone for reading and reviewing. Your messages make my days so much better! Second, I will be doing my best to get chapters posted each day. However, something very serious has come up in my life. If I don't get a chapter up for a day or two, it's not because I'm not writing the story anymore. It simply means this issue has escalated. I will still try to keep the schedule I have set as much as possible. Thanks for understanding.**


	26. Kili's Adventure

**Date: TA 2884**

**Thorin: 138 years old**

**Lina: 135 years old**

"Heyla, sister!" The cheerful voice drew Lina's attention from the chainmail she was repairing.

Kira strode confidently into the forge, a ridiculous grin plastered across her face. She unbuckled her sword and laid it across the table before settling herself down onto a stool.

"Are you returned from the villages of Men already?" Lina felt a bit surprised. The trip didn't seem to have lasted long. She calculated the time in her head. No, the traders had been out for nearly a month. Enough time to visit the main trading centers and get back to the city.

Lina took one look at her friend's slightly sadistic grin. A vague uneasiness began to grow within her. Whatever had put that particular look on her friend's face, it would do one of three things to Lina: make her laugh, make her cry, or, possibly, both at once. The last time Kira had worn this particular smile, she'd just sent three young dwarven-warriors-in-training sprawling in the largest mud hole she could possibly find. Two of those dwarves had been Lina's nephews.

"What did Kili do?" Lina asked warily. The grin had to be because of something Kili had done. After all, Kira had been out on the road for a month, and the only dwarf with her in that caravan Lina was interested in hearing about was Kili.

In the five years since Fili had gone out on his first trading caravan, Kili had been chomping at the bit to go outside the city. His twentieth birthday had marked his passage into what could loosely be described as adulthood. He was fully grown, though not necessarily fully matured. While Fili's experience with battle had tempered his own desire for fighting, Kili did not have that to temper his desire.

"Absolutely nothing," Kira announced with a sly grin. Lina set aside her hammer and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Care to explain?" she asked, quirking one eyebrow at her friend.

"He was hoping for an adventure like the one we had with Fili," Kira chuckled. Her chuckle turned into a full on laugh at some past event, obviously revolving around Kili.

"He got adventure, just not the kind he was hoping for." Kira wiped away tears of laughter from her eyes as she began to tell Lina what had transpired in one of the towns of Men.

Ever since the destruction of the warg pack by the dwarves, the town they'd rescued had played host to the dwarven caravans more than once. In fact, much to the dismay of some of the older men in the town, the dwarves, in particular the female dwarven warriors had gained a bit of a following. This following consisted mainly of young human females, determined to be as brave, as fierce, and as strong as Lina and Kira. The two female dwarves had given the young girls some lessons in the use of the short sword, knife, and bow.

As the caravan entered this particular town once more, a group of young girls, wearing what passed for armor, descended joyfully upon Kira. They begged and pleaded with the dwarf to give them more lessons with their weapons. Chuckling, Kira had agreed, as she always did. This time, however, she called Kili over to help with teaching archery as she was no great archer. This is when the adventure began, at least for Kili. It was also at this point Kira found the most entertaining thing she'd seen in many years.

Now something needs be said about the girls coming for lessons. These girls came from all over the town. They were the daughters of shopkeepers, merchants, craftsmen, and a few farmers coming into the town for trading. Most were between the ages of thirteen and seventeen: just old enough to begin truly thinking and deciding for themselves who and what they wanted to be, but young enough that most had not yet begun to court. There were exceptions of course. There were a couple of girls in the group who were only nine or ten. A few of the girls had married by sixteen as they did in those times, but most had remained single. For some it was a tossup as to which they found more appealing: weapons or males. Unfortunately for Kili, Kira had just combined the two for them.

Kira started giving the lesson as first one girl, then another noticed Kili standing a few feet away. Soon tiny whispers began to circulate through the group, and all eyes turned to the young male dwarf. Kili, however, was oblivious. He was checking over his bow, making sure the string was taut, and the like.

Upon looking up, he'd found that Kira had stopped speaking and was looking at him with great interest. It seemed all the females were. Now Kili had never come across so large a group of females before. Being raised among dwarves, he was accustomed to very few females as there are few females to be found among the dwarves. In the towns of men, however, women were at least equal, if not greater, in number to males. So the sheer number of females before him was strange. Even more strange were the expressions on their faces. A few had their mouths open in something akin to awe. Others looked very thoughtful. A couple of the youngest looked positively gleeful.

Throughout the lesson, or at least while Kira was watching, the girls were well-behaved. They only shot a few dozen glances in Kili's direction, blushing furiously whenever he caught them looking. Kira noted something she found highly amusing. The older girls pretended to focus only on their weapon training, but were actually far less focused than normal. Girls who could have hit the center of the target nine times out of ten now could not even place one arrow on the surface of the target. Apparently something, or someone, was distracting them. The youngest girls made no pretense. They openly gawked at the handsome young dwarf trying to show them how to properly hold their bows. One got a rather devious look on her face as she watched him.

This young and devious looking girl you would do well to remember. She was only nine, but quite fixated on males already. Unlike the older girls, she had no qualms about her fascination with Kili. Now, being young, her dirtiest of thoughts were actually quite pure. She had some notion of how one expressed their attraction to another. This was usually done with a kiss as she'd seen done many a time. She wasn't quite sure what exactly was so special about kissing, as she'd never been kissed, but she did know that the kisses the blacksmith's son gave her older sister produced such beautiful sighs. Whatever the kiss was for, she dreamed of finding someone handsome to kiss and be happy with. Marriage or anything beyond the kiss did not factor at all into her fantasy. The kiss was her goal. What she would want afterwards was irrelevant because even she had not thought that far ahead.

Foolishly, Kili thought this young girl would be the safest to be around. He, like many dwarves his age, had not yet developed any interest in members of the opposite sex. The young dwarf's mind was too filled with dreams of adventure and treasure of his own to have any room in it yet for females. Perhaps someday his mind would empty enough to allow thoughts of a woman in, but that day would not be today. Realizing the older girls found him attractive, Kili had decided to stay closer to the younger girl, mistakenly believing that age had something to do with how likely the girls were to desire him.

It took all of five minutes for the young girl to realize her great fortune. The man of her dreams, or so she thought then, had decided to be close to her! After the lesson, the girl had followed Kili quite stealthily, or so she believed. At first Kili paid her no attention. Then the giggling began. He'd whip around just in time to see the little girl turn aside, trying to pretend she was not following him.

The next two days the caravan spent in the village were pure torture for Kili. The little girl did not give up her pursuit of the handsome dwarf for it never occurred to her to do so. Kili took to hiding in the back of merchant wagons to escape her. Yet she somehow always managed to find him. Kira, of course, had nothing to do with that. After the wagons were spoiled as hiding places, Kili could be found in all sorts of interesting places. Kira's favorite was watching Kili accidentally trap himself on top of the covering over the town's bell. He'd been stuck up there until the little girl's mother called her for supper.

On the very morning the dwarves were to begin their journey back to Belegost, Kili made the mistake of letting his guard down. The relief of knowing he would soon be out of the little girl's range distracted him. Being, obviously, a dwarf, Kili was just the right height for the little girl. With a flying leap, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him squarely on the lips.

At this point in the story telling, Kira started laughing so hard tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes. Lina could not help hold back laughter of her own at the thought of Kili's face as the little girl kissed him. According to Kira, Kili's whole body went stiff as a board. His dark eyes went wide with shock. When the little girl finally went skipping away, quite pleased with having kissed her prey, Kira could quite clearly see the young dwarf's face. His eyes remained wide and the corners of his mouth turned down, his lips parted slightly in a combination of shock and horror. Kira was forced to literally pull him out of his catatonic state so the caravan could finally leave.

"I see Kili's adventure was nothing like he had hoped," Lina finally managed between snickers. She was, as she had predicted, torn between laughing and crying. Poor Kili. His first foray into the outside world had been such a disappointment. He'd been hoping for a fight like his older brother had once been in. Instead he finds himself hiding from a little girl bound and determined to kiss him. Fili came home from his adventure with a scar to show off proudly. Kili came home having been kissed for the first time in his life, and he was not pleased.


	27. Setting Out

**Date: TA 2904**

**Thorin: 158 years old**

**Lina: 155 years old**

The young warriors mingled, talking and laughing. Most were male, but a new crop of powerful female fighters had grown up in the last twenty years. Lina stood quietly, watching them from the level above. It had been years since Lina and Kira had begun a joint operation within the army of Belegost.

With the blessings of Thorin and the council of Belegost, the two female warriors had begun training up a special force of warriors. Lina still commanded the special unit of misfits, but this was to be a special unit set apart from the others. The young male and female dwarves within the unit had been trained in a number of style of fighting and with many styles of weapon. In most combat situations, the group would function more like the solo fighters of the regular army. However, in between battles the group had a secondary function: sabotage. With great secrecy, Lina's special unit assassins had trained this new unit in as many of their secret arts as they were willing or able to impart. Every dwarf in the new unit could now create a great many obstacles for opposing forces, far more effective than what the regular army tried on a regular basis.

Lina's reason for starting the unit of saboteurs was to give the dwarves an advantage in battle. She also had started taking a perverse pleasure in raising the hackles on some of the more proper matrons of Belegost. The males, especially those who had any hand in war, saw the need for any and all possible advantages in war. The only thing that irritated them was that this unit was not technically under the command of the army. The council's blessing had only been that the females could build their unit within the city. The city did not control or own the unit.

For some time now, Kira had become restless, trapped within the city. She, like Lina, was getting frustrated with the ever tightening confines of the growing dwarven society. Lina had the benefit of legally being a free agent, being able to operate independent of any male thanks to Thrain. Kira did not have that advantage. The female warrior was technically still bound to her father. Of late, Kira's father had been attempting to exert a great deal more control over his daughter, trying to force her into a marriage she did not want. Kira, to avoid being forced to hand over the rewards she earned during her adventures, had given any payment she received directly into her best friend's keeping. Lina could only do so much to protect her friend.

So the pair had devised a plan. Lina had recently received word that her mother was ill in the Iron Hills. As the mother and daughter had not seen each other in nearly 105 years, Lina thought it a good idea to visit. The trip was the perfect excuse to get not only her friend out of Belegost, but the entire unit as well. Since the unit was funded entirely by what the two females had earned in their adventures, the city had no claim on the fighters.

Now one must understand the nature of the fighters in this army. Most of them were younger sons who would never inherit or daughters with no male relatives. The unit had provided a safe haven for them all, offering them a livelihood. When Kira and Lina had devised their plan, they explained it to their followers. The dwarves readily agreed to follow Kira wherever she chose to go.

The first part of the plan was simple, escort Lina safely to the Iron Hills, then back as far as the Misty Mountains. Kira and the fighters with her intended to establish a small settlement in the area halfway between High Pass and the edge of the Ettenmoors. The theory was that, in times of trouble, the dwarves moving from Belegost to the Iron Hills or the other direction need only deviate from the main road about a day's march to call upon the warriors. When not needed, the band intended to make raids on the trolls and other foul creatures of the area. As trolls frequently had useful and valuable items in their hordes, the settlement would have the opportunity to prosper. Kira was to be the head of the settlement. This was something agreed to by the entire unit and bonded on. A line of succession was established, using ranking within the unit rather than birthright to create the next leader. Once out from under the influence of the other dwarven societies, Lina and Kira hoped this settlement would eventually become indifferent to what one's gender was, focusing instead on one's own skills.

Lina sighed and clasped her hands tightly behind her back. The plan was just being set into motion. Thorin knew nothing of the plan. For the first time for as long as Lina could remember, she was required to keep a secret from her husband. Once the warriors had gone, neither Thorin nor the council had the power to bring them back by any means. However, within the city, the dwarves were still citizens of Belegost. They had sworn no oaths of allegiance to the city or its officials and so were not being dishonorable in that respect. Lina knew that Thorin would not take the disappearance of nearly a hundred strong and capable warriors lightly. Every dwarf that left Belegost for any reason other than to make brief trips outside the city he felt was a person attack on him.

Thorin was quite proud. The betrayal of the Elves the day Smaug attacked and the leaving of so many of his kin after the Battle of Azanulbizar were personal betrayals to him. He would not understand the need for Kira to leave. Thorin had accepted Lina's status based on his father's acceptance of her. While he had no problem with Kira as a warrior or in any of the other positions she held within the city, she was first and foremost bound to her family. As she had male relatives living, she was bound to them. The knowledge that she was to hurt her own husband made her sick to her stomach, but she did not know what else to do.

A gentle hand touched Lina's shoulder. She turned to see Kira there. Her friend's face was serious. Kira knew what her choice was costing Lina, but both felt there was no other option.

"It is time." Lina nodded and whistled shrilly over the gathered warriors. They understood her signal and shouldered their packs. The unit formed up and moved out through broad double doors on that level, exiting the city. Kira patted her friend's shoulder and went to join the warriors. Lina still had one more thing to do.

Still feeling ill, Lina moved to let Thorin know she was beginning her journey, but not that she was the only one who would be returning. He was reading over old accounts of the attacks on the old dwarven settlements in the Grey Mountains. In recent days he'd become obsessed with the idea that every dragon had a weakness, and he was searching for Smaug's. His blue eyes rose to meet her as she entered the room, shutting the door behind her. She tried to hide the uneasiness with a smile.

"Kira's not coming back is she?" His simple question stunned Lina. The pen he'd been holding was placed back in its stand as he rose.

"No, she's not," Lina answered softly. There was no way she could lie bald-faced to him.

Thorin's jaw tightened and his hands balled into fists at his side. Anger began to show on his face as Lina watched. She stood silently, watching him. To speak now would only enrage him. All she could do was wait and hope that he might at least understand, even if he did not like it.

"You would lie to me in order to help another female leave the city?" Anger, betrayal, and hurt all came through in his hoarse question.

"I never lied to you. I simply never told you the truth," Lina answered evenly. This was true. Never had she lied to Thorin. That was one thing she could never, would never, do to him.

"Why would you hide this from me?"

"Kira is trapped here. By our laws, she is bound to her male relatives. What she rightfully earns with her blood, sweat, and tears becomes theirs. I cannot stand idly by as she is treated thus. When she came to me for help I gave her my word to help in any way I could." Lina stopped and watched Thorin for his reaction. He was silent.

A knock on the door startled them both. Thorin motioned for her to open the door. Once opened, a young page took a step forward.

"The warriors are ready to depart, My Lady," he told Lina, bowing.

"I understand," she answered. "You are dismissed."

The page took himself off and Lina closed the door once more. Turning, Lina saw that her husband had moved. He was opening a small box on the mantle of their fireplace. Taking something out, he closed the lid and approached Lina. His manner had changed. The anger was gone and replaced with resignation.

"The road back will be dangerous without Kira or her army," he said finally.

"Yes."

"Be careful," he whispered, pulling her suddenly into his arms. "If the city of Belegost must lose some of its number, do not let it be you."

Lina wrapped her arms tightly about his waist. His familiar scent filled her nose, calming her as it always did.

"I had this made for you," he said softly, pulling back. In the palm of his hand lay a simple ring of smooth, clear stone. Lina took the ring from his hand, turning it over in the light.

"It's beautiful," she murmured. Thorin slid the ring onto her hand, settling it over the edges of her glove.

"Whatever else you do on this journey," he told her, "stay safe. All the dwarves of this place may leave as long as I have you beside me."

Lina knew how hard it was for Thorin to let the dwarves leave. She had seen it the day so many had chosen to go to the Iron Hills rather than continue with his father in exile.

"I will always return to you," she answered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Thorin held her tighter for a moment.

"I love you, Lina. May the Valar guide and protect you all." With that he drew back from her.

"And I love you, Thorin," she replied. Her hand brushed his cheek before turning to leave. The door shut behind her with a dull thud. Lina's heart still felt heavy at having hurt her husband. At least he now knew the truth.

**A/N: I'm so happy that you guys liked the last chapter so much! I enjoyed writing it. As for this chapter . . . I'm not 100% happy with it, but it does what I want it to do. Writing this chapter has been my only distraction from the issue I mentioned a chapter or two ago. That issue, however, is still present and I'm not sure what's going to happen. So it continues to distract me. We are getting closer to Lina's involvement with the quest to reclaim Erebor. I'm getting a few things set up still. **


	28. A New Home

**Date: TA 2904**

**Thorin: 158 years old**

**Lina: 155 years old**

"Who requests entry into the domain of Dain Ironfoot?"

"Lina Firehammer and her escort." Lina crossed her arms over her chest and waited for a response.

"What need have you of an army, Lady Firehammer?" The sentry was rightfully nervous, she supposed. Having nearly one hundred armed warriors on one's doorstep might be a bit intimidating.

"The way has grown more dangerous since last our people journeyed here. We lost some of our number to goblins in the Misty Mountains and to wargs on the plains. To travel with anything less than a fully armed host is foolishness," Lina called back up. A silence greeted her announcement.

"What do they think we're going to do?" Kira grumbled. "Attempt to pillage the town? We are neither strong enough in numbers or arms to accomplish that feat."

"Apparently." Lina eyed the gates in annoyance. Were they honestly afraid of a group from the Blue Mountains?

"If you're not intending to let us in, would you at least direct us to a place large enough to camp for the night?" she called up, irritated. What was wrong with these dwarves? She'd sent word ahead of a large number of dwarves coming into the Iron Hills from Belegost.

A small door, previous invisible, opened in the side of the mountain. Two envoys of Dain Ironfoot emerged. Both looked nervous.

"Do I want to know?" Kira muttered, raising one eyebrow at the dwarves.

"The Lord of the Iron Hills begs the pardon of Lady Firehammer, but questions her reasons for bringing an army," one managed. This dwarf, obviously young, had heard of Lina Firehammer and was actually nervous.

"There are many dangers on the road between our two cities. Would you have one of our kin travel that road alone? Moreover, I intend to take back some of the treasures stolen from our people by trolls and the like near the Ettenmoors. For that, one needs an army at their hand."

"Lord Ironfoot attempted to send word to you, but it has obviously not reached you. There is no room in the city for so large a visiting company. There is a sheltered valley in which your army may camp and be of relative comfort," the envoys continued.

"Take the valley," Kira hissed, "It looks to be nicer than whatever this lot could offer inside anyway."

"Then show us the way and we shall make camp," Lina answered Dain's dwarves.

"A place has been prepared for the wife of our lord's cousin within his house," one of the dwarves told Lina once they had shown the valley to the small army.

"Send my apologies to your lord and master," Lina replied, "I cannot leave my people to sleep in a valley while I remain inside the city."

The dwarves looked stunned at her words, but took the message to Dain. He responded with understanding, and interest.

Kira nudged her friend as the two were sitting in front of their tent. Advancing on them was a small band of dwarves, led by Dain Ironfoot. The two females rose to greet him.

"Lady Firehammer," Dain greeted her as he drew near, "I have not had the pleasure of seeing you up close. The last time I saw you was across the battlefield fighting beside my cousin. The memory of your flaming hammer has never left my mind."

"I am honored you remember me, Lord Ironfoot," she responded gracefully, bowing slightly.

"You mentioned in your letter you had wished to see your mother, I believe?"

"That is correct."

"I am sorry then, Lady Firehammer," he told her, "I have been informed that she died while you were on your way here. I had included that information in the message I dispatched, but obviously that message did not reach you for one reason or another."

Lina's blood went cold. Dead. Her mother was dead. As the initial shock wore off, Lina was surprised by her lack of reaction. What was wrong with her? Her mother was dead. That realization did nothing to her emotionally. It was a simple statement of fact.

The Lord of the Iron Hills departed with his people having agreed to allow the dwarves to resupply before returning to Belegost. Still Lina felt nothing. That frightened her.

"What's wrong?" Kira had settled back against her rock and was looking at her companion curiously.

"I don't feel anything," Lina whispered. "She was my mother and I feel nothing."

"You haven't seen or spoken to each other in more than a century," Kira pointed out. "That's a long time. Bonds weaken."

"But my own mother?"

Kira shrugged, "You've had so many other dwarves enter your life in that century. You've married Thorin and you've helped raise your nephews. There's a whole new family for you to love. It's a whole new life."

Lina did not reply. Her fingers played with the clear stone ring on her hand. Though Kira's words made sense, her lack of emotion regarding her mother's death still disturbed her.

The following morning, the dwarves took the opportunity to go into the city in small groups. For the most part they were looking to resupply. A few had relatives inside, but not many. Lina went in briefly to visit her mother's tomb. The old dwarven warrior who had agreed to take care of her mother had apparently married her. The dwarf had lost his first wife to Smaug though his children had survived. His marriage to Lorina seemed to have been a happy one. For that, Lina was grateful.

On the second day after the arrival of the army from Belegost, the dwarves bid the Iron Hills farewell. They had rested and resupplied, and were anxious to be on their way. There was a new life to begin in the Iron Hills.

Lina looked with longing upon the Lonely Mountain as the passed far to the north of it. The land she remembered as once being beautiful and green was now nothing more than a blackened wasteland. The mountain rose high above the surrounding devastation, snow capping its peak.

"They say the dragon has been quiet for twenty years now," Kira said, interrupting Lina's thoughts. "But, judging by the smoke still coming out of the mountain, I don't think that beast's dead."

The army progressed slowly to the north of the mountain. To go through Mirkwood had been declared unsafe. Even the Old Forest Road had become unsafe. The dwarves of the Iron Hills told tales of dwarves who'd taken those paths and never were heard from again. Even larger, well-armed companies tended to vanish from the road. The path they walked now, however, was just as dangerous. To stray too far to the south would them within the realm of Smaug, and, as they moved further west, into the domain of Thranduil. Lina had no desire to be in his realm. His bitter betrayal of the dwarves still burned angrily within her. Going too far north was just as bad. The settlements the dwarves had once built in the Grey Mountains had long since been destroyed by the dragons of the north, Smaug's kin.

Once across the Great River, the dwarven host only had a day or two further to march before their destination came into view. An old fortress was built into the side of the mountains. One of the dwarves in the company said that the fortress had once been inhabited by a small band of dwarves who had fled Erebor. However, they were too few and too poor to defend the fortress properly, and so had fled when a small contingency of goblins had found them. The fortress was unlikely to still be occupied by the goblins, or at least not to be occupied by very many. It was too far off of the trade routes for creatures used to preying on others, and had few natural resources to exploit the way their kin did further north and further south.

Lina and Kira sent out the scouts to take a quick survey of the fortress. If it was inhabited, they were to bring a report of the number and armament of those within. If it was not inhabited, they would simply take it for their own.

The scouts returned quickly with word that the fortress was indeed still occupied. None of the creatures within had noticed the dwarven scouts creeping among the rocks. Kira recommended waiting where they were for the night and then attacking the next morning. It was a plan Lina supported.

The dwarven warriors made a cold camp just behind a rocky ridge, hiding them from anyone on the fortress walls. Sentries were posted and the dwarves bedded down for the night. The night was to be short enough. With any luck, the fortress would be theirs by midday tomorrow.


	29. Coming Home

**Date: TA 2904**

**Thorin: 158 years old**

**Lina: 155 years old**

The darkness was strange. It was warm, not cold as Lina would expect. It seemed to flow around her like a river. Surrendering to the flow was easy. It drew her gently along, making her feel safe and comfortable. The darkness felt almost like arms carrying her along. She wondered vaguely where the warmth was taking her.

Sweat. That was the first thing she smelled. It was a heady mixture of oak and fire. Lina recognized that smell. It was the familiar scent of her husband, her own scent mingling faintly with it. Images grew in the darkness. It almost seemed that the darkness was parting like a curtain for her. The first thing she saw was her bed in Belegost. Empty. The sheets were in disarray as if someone had been in the bed and left quickly. The darkness covered her vision again.

Sound. Something was crackling and pooping faintly. Fire? That seemed right, but then there was a different type of smoke. Pipe smoke? The smell seemed right. The room faded into view. There was the fireplace, a small fire just dying down. Thorin stood before it. His pipe dangled loosely from his fingers as he stared into the flames. The fire glowed in his eyes. His brow was knit, his whole body tight. What had him so worried?

"Thorin!" Lina called out. Her husband's head shot up. Had he actually heard her? He looked searchingly about their bedroom. Though his eyes rested directly on her, they did not seem to see her. His shoulders fell a bit when he realized there was no one else in the room with him.

"Lina?" Thorin cast his gaze around the room once more, as if hoping Lina would actually be there, before turning back to his brooding.

"You're not here," she heard him mutter, "I don't even know where you are."

Lina felt her heart ache at the resignation in his voice. She reached out her hand, trying to touch him, to let him know she was still alive. The distance between them did not shrink and Lina could not move. Her hand grasped at empty air.

"I will be home soon," she told him, hoping he might hear her once more. Thorin looked over at their empty bed.

"You will be home soon," he repeated softly. The darkness began to close back in around Lina. She kept her eyes fixed on her husband until he was completely hidden from view and not even a vague shape remained.

A hand resting on her shoulder woke her. Her eyes flew open to see the faint outline of Kira against the greying sky. Her companion nodded when she realized Lina was awake.

Lina stretched as she sat up. That was the strangest dream she'd ever had. Thorin had frequently been part of her dreams on a number of other occasions, but this dream was different. The darkness was not like any she'd ever experienced. Whenever darkness surrounded her before, it had no shape and was certainly not warm. And Thorin. She missed him bitterly.

It had been nearly two months since the dwarves had set out from Belegost. Getting such a large host with heavy packs from Belegost to the Iron Hills had taken longer than Lina or Kira had anticipated. These dwarves were not nearly as strong as the warriors under Dain Ironfoot and so could not make the time his army could have.

Whenever she could, Lina tried to send word back to Thorin. She never knew if the messages reached him as she could never stay in one place long enough to receive a response. Still she hoped he at least knew she was alive.

Sighing, the warrior got to her feet. Now was not the time to be dwelling on dreams. There was a battle to be won and a fortress to be claimed. Trying to push aside thoughts of her husband, Lina began to settle her armor into place. Her suit of mail slid easily into place. The leather breastplate she wore was laced tightly over it. The metal scales on the leather would hopefully deflect the worst of the blows coming her way as it had so many times in the past.

Lina paused in her own preparations for a moment to aid Kira. Kira's armor was far heavier than Lina's. It was full metal over chainmail. It was designed to withstand far more than Lina's, but then Kira was expecting to get far more action than Lina. If someone or something got close enough to land a hit on Lina's armor, she was in trouble regardless of how heavy she was armored. Her weapon of choice was simply not fast enough to deal with truly close quarters.

The last pieces of armor were strapped into place. None of the tents had been set up the night before, so only bedrolls had to be adjusted. Packs were piled to one side, guarded by a couple of the youngest warriors Lina and Kira had deemed not quite ready for battle. Spare weapons were strapped to backs, legs, forearms, wherever the dwarf using them thought best.

Kira sent out her scouts again, this time sending some of the company's best saboteurs with them. They were to make sure that the forces within the fortress could not send for aid. During the night several scouts and saboteurs had crossed the small pass above the fortress and found a back way in. Not wanting anything to escape that way, but not wanting the entrance to be unusable in the future, they had barricaded it and set a handful of warriors to guard it. The barricade would stop most things from being able to flee. The warriors would be able to take care of anything else. However, Kira and Lina hoped to occupy the goblin forces enough that they wouldn't even think about the other entrance.

The fortress was an interesting one. There was a large, open-air courtyard behind the massive stone gates. If the dwarves could lure most of the goblin forces into the courtyard, then it would be possible to send large boulders down the sides of the mountains to crush them as well as rain arrows down upon them. Kira had already determined to utterly destroy the courtyard once her forces took the fortress and set the gates into the mountain itself. In theory the fortress would be more defensible then.

The scouts returned, having left the saboteurs to their work. This time they escorted up the light skirmishers and archers. The archers hid themselves in the clefts of rocks, ready to rain down death on any foolish enough to enter the courtyard from the fortress. The skirmishers quickly took out sentries on the upper walls of the fortress and its outer wall above the gate. A single bird call floated down from the heights. The warriors were ready.

Kira blew a long note on her horn, drawing the attention of every creature in the fortress. Many went rushing onto the walls. The walls were only big enough for one or two goblins to stand side by side. Only one if the goblin wished to fight. The skirmishers who held the walls were able to take care of any they came up against as the creatures quite literally had to wait in line to fight them. The archers picked off any goblin they chose. More of the foul creatures flowed into the courtyard. At a signal from the captain of the skirmishers, the saboteurs on the mountain let loose the rocks they'd pried from the mountain. The massive stones bounded down the mountain with a frightful roar. Most of the creatures in the courtyard were quickly killed as the boulders hit them and rolled a little further. The saboteurs, once all their boulders had been set loose, descended into the courtyard under the cover of the archers' arrows. The gates were opened to allow Lina and the two other dwarves she trained in line breaking to enter the courtyard. Kira and her regular heavy fighters followed close behind.

The dwarves charged into the melee, pushing the goblins back into the fortress. The archers moved quickly from their positions on the mountainsides to take up positions on the upper walls looking into the fortress. Once there they began dropping arrows into the ranks of goblins furthest from the other dwarven warriors. The skirmishers and saboteurs held the gates, allowing nothing to escape beyond them. There would be no goblin left alive.

Their arrows nearly spent, the archers pooled their resources, giving those with the greatest aim the few arrows they had left. Arrowless archers began to join the melee, their short swords and axes going to work beside the other warriors. Goblins fell quickly before the advancing dwarves. None had been expecting the attack on their fortress as none had ever occurred before.

Lina and her line breakers made their way deep into the fortress, smashing heads and crushing bodies with ease. Some of the smaller goblins were able to dodge their blows and get under the massive hammers. Lina was thankful for one of the skirmishers darting about, avoiding the line breakers' hammers, while cutting down the small creatures before too much damage was done. Sweat already burned powerfully within the lacerations the goblins had managed to inflict on the line breakers.

Suddenly the fighting was over. Lina had run out of goblins to crush. She looked around. A few of the other melee warriors were cutting down stray goblins left alive within the fortress. Kira sent her warriors down the various side tunnels in groups to root out any survivors. In another ten minutes, the groups started reporting back. The goblins were vanquished.

"It's not the biggest fortress I've ever seen," Kira told her friend, leaning on her axe and wiping sweat out of her eyes. "But it'll be near perfect with a few changes."

"That back door of yours will be nice when you start raiding trolls in the Ettenmoors," Lina pointed out.

"So it will," Kira answered, smiling. "So it will."

The first order of business was to tend the wounded. A few of the warriors had healing skills. These were set to work examining any wounds deemed too serious to be handled without them. Lina and her line breakers had escaped with only minor lacerations. After washing and binding them, the wounds were fine. They set to work with the uninjured locating the wounded unable to move, pulling out their dead, and dragging goblin bodies outside to be burned.

Already modifications to the fortress had begun. The dwarves with some skill in masonry were fitting the face of the fortress for the gates to be installed there. Others were carving the mountain so that it never again could be used in battle as the dwarves had. The weaknesses they had exploited could not be left behind for another to exploit.

The moment a dwarf had been cleared by the healers for work they were sent out to help move the massive gates into the face of the mountain. This was a job Kira wanted done before nightfall and it was one her warriors had assured her could be done. Dwarves are fast at this sort of thing. Entire cities could spring up within a week given enough dwarves with the desire to do so. Moving gates was a simple thing. The gates settled perfectly into place. The upper walls of the fortress were built up to protect against invaders.

By the time night fell, the fortress looked far different than it had that morning. The courtyard was no more, only a boulder field remained. Kira quite liked the boulder field. It had made getting the gates into place challenging, but it also kept unwanted visitors from charging the gates. The warriors placed to guard the back entrance were brought into the fortress while a series of strong doors were erected along the length of the back tunnel. This would make it very difficult for an opposing force to enter through the rear.

Lina remained in the fortress a week more, aiding her friend in fitting the location to their purposes. Yet her mind never could be drawn from dwelling on thoughts of her husband. The strange dreams returned each night. They were never the same twice. Sometimes Thorin was training with his nephews when Lina saw him. Others he was lying in bed, wide awake. It seemed as if she could reach out and touch him, though she never could quite reach. Her voice, however, seemed to catch his attention.

After a week, Lina could no longer stand to remain away from him. She had been gone for too long and the dreams had begun to wear on her. Kira ordered a few of her warriors to escort Lina as far as Bree. The road was too dangerous for one to travel alone.

The morning Lina was to begin her journey home dawned bright and clear. Kira walked silently beside her as the small band made their way out of the fortress through the back entrance. Once outside the two friends embraced.

"If you ever have need of our strength, you need only call upon us," Kira whispered in her friend's ear. "We will always answer the call of Lina Firehammer."

Lina blinked back tears as she bade her friend a fond farewell. It would likely be some time before they met again. With that she turned and began her journey back to Belegost. The dwarves marched resolutely behind her.

On the evening of the eleventh day, the dwarves reached the outer edges of Bree. The dwarves did not wish to enter the town and so camped one last time on the outskirts. At dawn of the twelfth day, the dwarves of Kira's army said good-bye to Lina and turned back to their own home.

The journey from Bree to Belegost was simple and quite pleasant. The dwarf skirted along the edges of a rather beautiful and peaceful land called the Shire. She paused once to watch young children, smaller even than dwarf children, racing barefoot over the green rolling hills. Their giggles brought a smile to her face.

Lina was able to move faster without her escort now and reached the gates of Belegost a little over a week after leaving Bree. The guard at the small side door let her in, recognizing her immediately. It was already late and many of the dwarves had gone back to their homes for the night.

After being away from her husband for almost three months, Lina was eager to find Thorin. They had not parted in the happiest of ways, something she regretted deeply. Her pack, armor, and weapons were put up in the armory until morning. She had no desire to waste time on them just now. Her thoughts were only on Thorin.

A warm fire in the hearth greeted her as soon as she pushed open the door of her bedroom. Thorin was standing before the fireplace, much as he had been in her dream several weeks earlier. His eyes brightened and a smile replaced the frown he'd been wearing.

"Lina!" He pulled his wife further into the room and kicked the door shut behind her. Immediately his mouth descended upon hers, giving her as enthusiastic a greeting as she could ever have hoped for.

"I take you're glad I'm home," she purred against his lips. Thorin smirked and kissed her again.

"You've been away for so long. I was beginning to hear your voice out of thin air," he responded. Lina thought about telling him of her dreams, but decided against it.

"Dain's messenger arrived about a week after you left. He told me your mother had died."

Lina felt her excitement vanish at the mention of her mother. She was still numb about the whole thing. That bothered her.

"She had," Lina answered simply. She mechanically began to remove her travelling clothes.

"What's troubling you?" Thorin asked, helping her remove her cloak. "There's more upsetting you than just your mother's death."

"I don't feel anything. That's what's upsetting me," Lina whispered, turning to him. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Ever since learning of her mother's death, Lina had been trying to feel properly sad. Yet she'd been unable to conjure up even the tiniest of tears. Even now the tears that began to fill her eyes were not for her mother, but for her own inability to cry for her mother.

"Am I so heartless I cannot even weep for my mother's death?" she whispered, slumping down on the edge of the bed. "She protected me from the worst of my father's anger. Then was never a moment she was not trying to help me in some way. Why can't I feel anything?"

Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she cried out in anger and frustration. Thorin settled his broad frame on the bed beside her and simply pulled her into his arms.

"Perhaps it is because you had so little in common," Thorin suggested quietly. "She never had the strength to raise herself up from where she had fallen. Yet you did. You loved her certainly, but you never idolized her the way most children do their parents."

Lina looked up at him, comprehension dawning in her eyes. Her husband smiled down at her and carefully wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Someday you may find it in you to cry for Lorina, but do not be hard on yourself if that day is not today. Some things take time before we are ready to cry for them." He placed a tender kiss on her forehead. Lina's mouth twitched into a small smile. Swiping at her eyes, she rose.

"I guess the trip really wore me out," she told Thorin.

"I'm sure it did," he murmured, rising to stand before her. "Let's get you into bed. You need some sleep."

Lina removed the last of her travelling garments and slipped into bed. Thorin banked the fire and joined her a moment later. His strong arm pulled her naked body against his. He had missed her as much as she had missed him. Lina closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of his powerful body beside her. Her head rested on the broad expanse of his chest.

"You aren't heartless," Thorin said suddenly. "I could never have made a home with someone who had no heart." With that he kissed her forehead tenderly and pulled the covers over them.


	30. Always a New Love

**A/N: There are only two more chapters (after this one) I want to get in before we start getting into the events of The Hobbit. I know some of you are impatient. However, I would like to finish setting up things for later on.**

**Date: TA 2920**

**Thorin: 174 years old**

**Lina: 171 years old**

Fili was distracted today. It would have taken a blind man to have missed that fact. His sword swings were wild and unfocused, rarely hitting the mark. Lina merely stepped aside with each wild swing. On a normal day, she would be hard pressed to avoid her nephew's blow, especially when she was only wielding a shield and short axe. His sudden lack of coordination and skill puzzled her.

With a quick strike, Lina had sent Fili stumbling. A blow from her shield put him flat on his back. Standing over the fallen dwarf, Lina planted the blunt end of her weapon on his chest, holding him down. His eyes darted to the side of the arena involuntarily. His aunt followed his gaze.

The first thing she saw was her other nephew, Kili. Her lips pursed in annoyance. The youngling was supposed to be paying attention to the bout Lina was running against his brother as his turn would be next. However, his attention seemed to have wandered. At fifty-six, Kili had begun to explore his interest in females. Lina rarely saw him anymore without at least one female hanging on his arm. The females of Belegost—both wed and unwed, it might be added—found the youngling very appealing. While he did not seem to have a specific female he was interested, Kili was certainly interested in the idea of females. He was a terrible flirt.

The second thing Lina noticed actually surprised her. Standing several yards from Kili and his group of sighing females was one lone girl. She appeared to be about Kili's age, perhaps a bit younger. Lina had never seen this girl before and she usually noticed females in the training arena quickly. With the disapproving looks of the city matrons growing ever sharper, the number of females presenting themselves for training had sharply declined. This girl was certainly not here to be trained. For one, her clothes were all wrong for it. The simple skirt, blouse, and bodice suggested she was a craftsman's daughter.

Glancing down at her nephew, she noticed his eyes were firmly fixated on the girl. Lina sighed softly and took a second look at the girl. She wasn't the prettiest girl in the room by any means. In fact, she was rather plain. Nothing about the girl particularly stood out when one simply glanced at her. Her hair was a dull brown, braided quite simply. Of her face, well, everything was there and in correct proportion. There were no scars of defining marks upon her body that Lina could see.

"Get up," she said finally, nudging Fili with her toe. He got quickly to his feet, picking up both swords. It took a great force of will for Lina not to roll her eyes at her nephew. He'd gone back into a fighting stance as if he thought she was going to run another round when his head was obviously not firmly attached.

"If I hit you with even the least little bit of force, you're going to go tumbling end over end," Lina informed him, sliding her axe into the loop on her belt. Fili looked at his aunt warily. The look sent a smirk across her lips. Good. She could still put fear into the hearts of the younglings then.

"You fancy the girl?" she asked, jerking her head at the female who was quite obviously watching Fili now. Fili looked over in time to see the girl duck her head as if to examine the collar of her blouse. He shrugged noncommittally.

"Well?"

"I don't know," he answered uncomfortably.

"You obviously do or you wouldn't be losing bouts as poorly as you lost that last one. You have no concentration today. Go talk to the girl already."

"I can't," he muttered. Suddenly Fili had transformed into his much quieter self. This was the side of Fili Lina had only seen when he was very little and meeting new people for the first time.

"Why?"

"I'd probably say something stupid. I usually do. Kili always knows what to say and he's got the looks they like." Fili's gaze moved from the girl to his younger brother. At least six females of varying ages were laughing and batting their eyelashes at them.

"May I point out that the girl you've got your eye on does not have her eye on your brother?"

Fili was startled. His gaze shot over to the lone dwarven female. Her eyes immediately went about examining the railing in front of her. No, she hadn't been looking at his brother.

"Just go talk to her before we all get old!" Lina scolded, nudging him off in the girl's direction. If he was going to be distracted, he might as well figure out his own feelings about the girl.

Fili quickly sheathed his blades and began to walk over to the railing. The girl's eyes went wide as the handsome dwarf approached her. Bemused, Lina watched as Fili awkwardly tried to start a conversation. Both younglings were blushing furiously within a few seconds. Yet neither was making any move to walk away.

"I thought they were supposed to be training," a deep voice commented from behind Lina.

Lina laughed as she turned toward Thorin.

"That's what I was trying to do. The bouts with Fili didn't go so well. Apparently that female he's with now was more interesting. I sent him sprawling then sent him her way. If he's going to be knocked senseless, he'd better at least figure out whether she's worth it," Lina explained.

"What's Kili's excuse?" Thorin asked, arching one eyebrow.

"He has none," Lina replied, grinning ferally. Her youngest nephew might be an accomplished flirt, but he wasn't truly interested in single one of the females before him. At least he might be more challenging than his distracted brother.

A shrill whistle got Kili's attention and brought him over for a bout. Thorin took a step back to watch his wife work over his nephew. Kili was still very headstrong, very sure of himself, but he at least had the skill to back that up. He could usually work himself out of sticky situations with relative ease.

Thorin hid a smile as Lina executed one of the dirtier moves she'd picked up from Ira when they were all still young. Kili opened his mouth to complain it wasn't fair, but obviously thought better of it. Instead he rolled to avoid Lina's next blow.

After using the move enough times that Kili finally caught on, Lina sent him off with a smile. He was exhausted, but she'd gotten through to him. She honestly hoped he'd try to use it on her in the next bout they ran. After placing her practice armor and weapons back in the armory, Lina rejoined Thorin at the side of the arena. He was watching Fili and the female dwarf. The red blushes covering the younglings' faces had subsided and they were now talking easily.

Thorin walked beside his wife as she moved in the direction of their rooms. The day had been long for both of them. Lina had started her day as she always did, in the forge. At least with two new apprentices, Lina did not have as much work to do on her own. Her husband had worked beside her for part of the day, but she had left early in the afternoon to begin training with their nephews. Thorin had other business to attend to.

The door to their room closed behind them. A steaming bath had been drawn for Lina.

"You know me too well," Lina told Thorin with a smirk as she stripped off her sweaty clothes.

"I should by now," he retorted, catching the shirt she flung his direction. "We've been joined for over a hundred years."

Had it truly been that long? Lina quickly calculated the time in her head. One hundred and eighteen years had been spent joined. It did not seem like that long.

"It's hard to believe it has been that long," Lina said finally, sinking down into the warm water. She winced as the old wound in her abdomen sent sudden stab of pain through her. That one never had seemed to heal quite right.

Thorin settled in the chair beside her bath. The bands holding Lina's hair in braids were removed, the beads placed in a small bowl beside him. She sighed with pleasure as his fingers combed gently through her mussed locks.

Lina tilted her head back into his lap and gazed up at him. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. His fingers stroked the underside of her jaw lovingly.

"Do you remember how you felt the first time you saw me?" Lina asked, curious. The way Fili had been acting throughout the bout left her wondering how Thorin had reacted to seeing her for the first time. Had he felt as paralyzed as she?

"Yes."

Lina spun around, growling in frustration.

"Are you not going to tell me?"

"Why does it matter how I felt then as long as I am here now?" he asked. His expression was one of slight amusement. Even these many years later, Lina still had the ability to say strange things and make him smile.

Lina tried to hide her answering smile. It wasn't really a relevant question, she was simply curious. She stretched languidly. Thorin caught her hand in his and pressed it to his lips.

"We should go somewhere," Thorin announced after a long moment of silence.

"May I ask why?"

"I'm almost so used to having to wander the world that settling in one place for so long has made me restless," he answered.

"Where would we go?" Lina asked.

"Wherever we wish," he replied with a shrug. "It would never be for very long, just enough to get away from everyone and everything. We'd have a few moments to ourselves that did not involve us locking ourselves in our bedroom."

"I'd like that," she murmured.


	31. Brewing Storm

**Date: TA 2922**

**Thorin: 176 years old**

**Lina: 173 years old**

It had taken some time to get affairs in order that Lina and Thorin could take their journey. Two years had passed since Thorin's suggestion of leaving Belegost for a time. Envoys from the Iron Hills had to be met and taken proper care of. New dwarves were constantly arriving.

At long last, Thorin had managed to arrange matters to allow the couple to leave the city. Lina was quite pleased. It had been some time since she had last ventured beyond the city walls, not having been out on a trading caravan in nearly ten years. Since taking Fili out on his first caravan, Lina had only left the city five times. Once had been the journey to the Iron Hills. The other five had been various trading caravans. The last trade caravan, however, had been only a year before Kira had gone. It had been eighteen years since Lina's last visit to any place outside the dwarven city.

Only a select few knew Thorin and Lina were slipping away for a time. Fili and Kili had some knowledge. Dwalin and Balin had been warned as well. Dwalin was pleased to have the two younger dwarves under his eye only for the next several days. It wasn't often he was able to give fighting lessons for days on end. Balin had taken it upon himself to keep an eye on the city council in Thorin's stead. As Thorin was not a crowned king, as this was no kingdom, the city council ruled. Thorin, however, had the final say on many subjects. Balin was the only dwarf he trusted to be wise enough to make those decisions in his stead.

Lina was relieved when she saw Thorin slip out the city gates, his pack on his shoulders and weapon at his side. She readjusted her own pack and went to meet him. A rare full smile lit his face when he saw her coming toward him. It had been too long since they'd last been free of the scrutiny of others.

The first leg of their journey took them into the Hills of Evendim. The dwarves had made a habit of checking the old warg den regularly. After the pack mother had been slain, the dwarves had placed on spikes the heads they could not carry back with them. It had been a warning. Though the heads had long since decayed, the skulls were still scattered about the entrance. The dwarves always made sure the wargs did not come back.

The walls of the town rose into view, the gates open for the farmers and merchants who came and went. The two dwarves passed through. Lina smiled at one of the old guards standing beside the gates. He had been one of the men she'd trained and equipped to defend the town many years back. The man never forgot her.

The people of the town, though many had aged, did not forget the dwarves. The dwarven caravans came once a year, bringing works of stone and metal the townsfolk could use to sell for profit. The trade with the dwarven settlement had been lucrative for both sides. Even as the first generation to see the dwarves had died, the stories lived on. The current town headman had been a young man when Lina and Kira had led the dwarves against the wargs. He was over sixty now.

The headman came out to meet the pair, obviously having received word they had arrived from someone neither Lina nor Thorin had noticed. As always, he wore a smile that seemed to split his face in two.

"Lady Firehammer!" He clasped her hand in greeting. "It has been far too long since you last visited us."

"So it has," she agreed smiling.

"This," she turned to Thorin, "is Thorin Oakenshield."

"Lord Oakenshield, the dwarves who rest here speak highly of you," the headman said, bowing slightly before Thorin.

Thorin inclined his head in acceptance of the man's compliment.

"Has your inn room for us?"

"There is always room for your people among us, Lady Firehammer. I shall leave you to your business. Safe travels." With that the headman hurried away. He seemed more nervous than usual.

"I think you may frighten him," Lina told her husband with a small laugh. Thorin smirked, but said nothing.

He followed Lina through the streets of the town. It was unfamiliar territory to him as he rarely left Belegost for anything but the rare trip to the Iron Hills. Being away from the city was good, for both of them. Thorin could feel the burden of responsibility lightening with every step he took. As for Lina, she was more animated than he'd seen her in years. The duties he had as the Heir of Durin took their toll upon him, but had not pushed him down nearly as hard as the expectations on Lina. He knew what his wife went through. He heard the things his own people called her. It was like the days before the War, only worse. Then the society was so broken he could have stood up for her and fought for her. Now, even she would simply rest a hand on his forearm and draw him back from confronting one who spoke ill of her.

Her hand on his arm drew him out of his thoughts. A mischievous smile curved her lips.

"You see the woman there? The one standing beside the blacksmith?"

Thorin nodded and his wife continued.

The woman was in her early forties, the wife of the blacksmith. She was nearly as large as her husband, with muscles nearly as strong. There were scars on her body, the most noticeable a long burn down her cheek and onto her neck. Lina explained that she had been one of the females who, as a youngling, had come to Lina and Kira for training in weaponry. Over the years, she had maintained that training, becoming one of the best fighters in the town's small defense force. Most of the girls they'd trained had set aside their weapons as soon as they'd wed, but not her. When she found something she wanted, there was no dissuading her. Her husband had discovered that. She picked him, not the other way around. For nearly a month, she'd been catching him looking at her. He'd always look away quickly. She had hoped he'd make a move on his obvious attraction to her, but he did not. So she took matters into her own hands. One day, when they were barely old enough to court, she'd marched up to him as he'd labored under his father, the blacksmith, and announced that he was to be her husband. He had been so shocked that he had been unable to refuse. The following spring they were wed.

According to the news Lina had gathered over the years, the couple had produced eight children, seven of which had survived into adulthood, an amazing accomplishment. The husband had taken over his father's forge when the time came, and was just training his eldest son to take over the forge one day. Thorin saw a look in the blacksmith's eye that he recognized when the man gazed at his wife. However strong-willed his wife was, however demanding, the man was still head over heels for her.

"She certainly has a strong personality," he commented, watching her calling out orders to her adult children and seeing them scurry about to obey.

"She always has," Lina added with a laugh. "She's the little girl who decided she needed to kiss Kili on his first trip out."

Thorin looked at his wife to see if she was in earnest. She just gave that small smile which meant she was telling him the truth. He shook his head and laughed as they went on.

After two nights in the town, the dwarves moved on to wander the hills, visiting other towns and villages along the dwarven caravans' trade route. They walked mostly in silence, enjoying the company in which they found themselves.

It was the last night they would spend on the road before re-entering Belegost when Lina first felt a tugging feeling in her gut. Something was coming. What it was, she did not know, but the feeling worried her. She resolved to begin building her own small fighting force, independent of the army. Members of her special unit would be the first she'd approach. Most of them were reaching the end of their obligations to the city and so would be free to join her. Whatever was coming, Lina wanted the best of her fighters ready.


	32. Dreaming of Dragons

**Date: TA 2940**

**Thorin: 194 years old**

**Lina: 191 years old**

The bed shifted. Thorin. Lina opened her eyes, wondering what had drawn her husband out of bed before her. The room was still cloaked in darkness and not even the faintest glow of light showed through the cracks in the curtains. It was either very late at night or very early in the morning. Whichever it was, Thorin rarely rose before Lina. At least not without telling her he would be the evening before. Well, that was once how it had been.

In the last few years, Thorin had become increasingly short-tempered and restless. He would shut himself away for days, brooding over maps and old records. Lina allowed him his privacy as long as she could, but, after two years of suddenly shifting habits, she was concerned.

A brief flare of light appeared as Thorin lit his pipe. He was standing near the fireplace in their room, their rented room. The fire sprang to life with a little tending, casting long shadows about the chamber. The bare skin of his body glowed strangely in the firelight, making him seem more alien and distant.

"What is it, Thorin?" Lina asked softly. She could no longer stand the silence, the brooding.

Her husband looked almost surprised to see her sitting in the bed behind him.

"I can't sleep," he answered gruffly. His wife growled deep in her throat. If he was not going to come to her, she would go to him. Throwing back the covers, Lina slipped from the warmth of the bed, trying to ignore the cold air against her bare skin. Her arms slipped about his waist, pulling his body close to hers. Thorin was usually more likely to talk to her if her body was in contact with his.

"You've been like this for two years now. I've borne the silence as long as I can. Thorin, we've been together far too long for this. Don't shut me out now," she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss against his shoulder. A heavy sigh was all the answer she received. Ever hopeful, Lina waited, her arms tight about his waist. Still he simply stood quietly, smoking his pipe and staring into the fire.

After what seemed an eternity, Lina finally surrendered. After one hundred and thirty-eight years, she had finally found encountered a wall he was unwilling to lower for her. Her arms loosened, and she began to pull away, intending to return to the warmth of their bed.

Thorin seized her hand as it slid across his belly. Pressing it to him, he halted her movement.

"Stay, please," he whispered. There was pain in his voice. Whatever had troubled him these past two years, it was hurting him deeply. Lina simply wished he'd let her in, but, for now, she would have to be content to give what blind comfort she could. Her arms returned to wrap around him, pulling her body tight against his back. His hand did not leave hers, instead gripping it tightly.

His silence continued. Light began to show through the cracks in the curtains before he moved again. Thorin tugged at her wrist, loosening her grasp enough he could move. He set his pipe on the mantelpiece and turned within the circle of his wife's arms. The fire behind him cast his face in shadow, making him impossible to read.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. "I did not intend to shut you out." His voice stilled for a moment. Lina closed her eyes as his lips pressed tenderly against the top of her head. She waited. There was more to his thoughts, she knew that much.

"Erebor has been on my mind of late," Thorin revealed. "More often than ever before. In my dreams I see the dragon's smoke beginning to diminish. Perhaps he is dead or dying, I do not know which. That he has not been seen in sixty years gives me hope."

"You are thinking of returning to the Mountain?" Lina looked up at him startled. For so long he had been content to remain in Eriador, rarely travelling over the Misty Mountains into the east.

"I cannot help it," he answered. "Our people have dwelt in halls not their own long enough. Why should we not attempt to take back the city?"

"What about the dragon? Smaug, if he still lives, will not give up the city so easily. He was not so old when he drove us from Erebor that he would die now," Lina pointed out. "No one has yet managed to wound the creature. Surely word of that would have reached even to Belegost."

"There are a few that might know of the dragon's fate," Thorin answered slowly. "I have considered seeking out the Grey Wizard, Gandalf. There are rumors that he has taken an interest in Smaug."

To this Lina had no reply, for there was none. Her husband had already decided to make the journey to Erebor. The question was simply when. For some reason this realization struck fear into her heart. Why? Why fear?

Lina had seen first-hand the destruction Smaug had brought upon the cities of Dale and Erebor. So many dwarves and men had died in his attack upon the dwarven city. With the gates sealed shut, was it even possible to enter the city once more? If the dragon did not wish visitors, then there would be no visitors to the city. Without someone of great skill and cunning to find an alternate route, anyone who ventured into Erebor would die instantaneously.

"I will not do as my father did before me," Thorin assured her. "I will not go running off to the Mountain on some unplanned whim. When I return, if I return, I will have a plan. Until then, my love, you need not worry about me leaving you."

"When you journey to Erebor, I shall not be far behind," she answered, kissing him. No, she would not let him go without her. He was all she had in this world. If she was to lose him to the dragon, then she wanted to fall beside him.

"So you shall." A smile lit his face for the first time in many days.

"Shall we have breakfast and begin the journey back to Belegost?" Lina asked after a moment.

"I suppose." Thorin's hand caressed her cheek for a moment longer.

The dwarves dressed and repacked the few items they had brought with them. They were nearly at the end of yet another of their walking journeys. The trip through the Hills of Evendim had become a yearly ritual for the couple. The time away from other dwarves had allowed them to get to know one another again, to explore their relationship in ways they had not been able to since shortly after their joining. As they often did, Thorin and Lina had spent one night at the inn in Bree. It had become such a ritual that the innkeeper started looking for them to appear about the same time every year.

Thorin led the way down the stairs into the tap room. A few early risers and travelers were seated about the room, eating something before setting out once more. A grey figure sitting by the fire caught Lina's eye. She pointed the old man out to her husband.

"Master Gandalf?" Thorin asked, approaching the figure. The man looked up at the dwarf's approach.

"Thorin Oakenshield," the man whispered as if surprised the dwarf before him was real.

"You have been on my mind of late," the wizard informed Thorin. He motioned for the pair to join him before the blaze.

"You have also been on mine," Thorin replied.

"It seems we are meant to discuss something of great importance, but I think not in this place," Gandalf said. "I had thought to call upon you in Belegost once my business elsewhere is complete. Would this satisfy you?"

"If you are willing to make the journey, then I am willing to wait," Thorin answered. Lina remained silent as she wondered if the wizard, too, had been thinking of Smaug in Erebor.

"When my business is finished, I shall join you in Erebor then."

The two dwarves took their leave of the wizard and, eating quickly, began the journey back to their city. Thorin's mood seemed lighter than it had in a long time. Lina, however, felt that nauseating tug in the pit of her stomach. Something horrible was coming.

**A/N: We have now begun getting into The Hobbit. Hopefully things will start moving a bit faster. If you have not read the book yet, this story is going to be absolutely stuffed with spoilers. Sorry. **


	33. The Promise

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

The misgivings and fears residing deep within Lina's heart refused to leave. Instead, they seemed to grow. Though she tried, she could not dislodge the doubts which entered her mind whenever she thought of Erebor. Certainly she longed to see the city free again. The dragon had ruled for far too long, but at what price would the city be taken? Dwarves were not the heroes. They were not the ones in the legends who slew dragons and rescued cities, that distinction belonged to Men. How could Thorin hope to win back Erebor without an army or a way inside the Mountain?

Gandalf's support of the return to Erebor had only added fire to Thorin's desire. The dwarf had thrown himself into preparations. Gandalf had promised to locate a suitable burglar for them. Lina had been relieved to hear that at least the wizard knew they would need a back way into the Mountain, as well as someone with the skill to find Smaug's weakness. A burglar would be just the one to complete such tasks.

The wizard had left, leaving instructions that Thorin was to send the dwarves going with him to a house in the Shire. There was to be a mark upon the door which would signal the burglar's place of residence. It was here the dwarves following Thorin would meet and finalize their plans.

Lina, however, would not be at this meeting. She was remaining in Belegost for an extra day to await the return of her assassins from the north. As contracts ended for members of Lina's special unit, they had reunited under her in a separate fighting force. Much like the force under Kira had begun.

Lina's company, once reunited, would follow after Thorin's, meeting them at the Trollshaws, the last forested area before reaching the Misty Mountains. Last minute messages would be exchanged before the two groups once more went their separate ways. Thorin's band was to take the High Pass across and continue on to the Old Ford. Lina's force would travel north and join up with Kira's army. The combined fighting forces would make their way south to rejoin Thorin at the Old Ford. If things went as planned, the forces would continue on the Old Forest Road. The theory was that the army would be relatively safe travelling that road as long as they all stayed together.

Once a general plan had been put together, Thorin had sent out a call for dwarves willing to journey across the Misty Mountains to reclaim Erebor. Outside of the dwarves already travelling with Lina and Kira, only thirteen dwarves had volunteered to join Thorin. Three of those dwarves were the source of a heated debate between Lina and Thorin.

Fili, Kili, and Gloin's son, Gimli, had volunteered to join the quest. Thorin had readily accepted his heir, Fili. Kili had been refused, as had Gimli, on the basis of his age.

"Kili's only five years younger than his brother. You can't simply leave him behind!" Lina argued. "To separate them like this, giving one the chance of a lifetime and completely ignoring the other is not right."

"Kili is too immature for to risk him in the company," Thorin replied.

"He is immature because he lacks the experiences Fili had long ago. Give the lad a chance to prove himself," Lina pleaded. She could not bear to let Thorin leave Kili behind. If Fili were to stay behind as well it would not be so bad, but Thorin had seen no problem in taking his heir with him. Kili had never been given a real chance to demonstrate his skills as Fili had. To turn Kili away now would devastate him.

"Thorin, Kili has trained for this chance his whole life. Let him prove his worth. You will not regret his presence." Lina rested her hand tenderly on his arm. Thorin softened under her touch.

"Very well, I will take Kili with. However, I will not take Gimli. Fili and Kili are my heirs, it is only fitting that they are on hand when Erebor is retaken. This is not war, however, and I will not risk another dwarf's son on such a venture."

Lina saw there would be no point in arguing with her husband now. He had made up his mind. Gimli would not be joining the venture.

The total number of dwarves travelling with Thorin now numbered twelve. Most were in some way related to Thorin, though not all. Balin and Dwalin had volunteered, ever loyal to their friend and distant cousin. Oin and Gloin, cousins of Balin and Dwalin, had also volunteered. Oin was slightly deaf, but he was a skilled healer. Gloin was not always the brightest, but he was a skilled and stubborn fighter, not likely to give up ground in a battle. Three brothers, Dori, Nori, and Ori, were also related to Thorin. Dori, the eldest of the three, was extremely strong, though slightly pessimistic. Lina found him whiny. Nori was interesting. The stories of his "adventures" in the outside world gave Lina the impression the quest was his way of escaping some unpleasant fate for his actions. Ori was simply tagging alone with his two older brothers. He was not particularly strong or clever, but he was a dedicated note-taker and enjoyed drawing. Lina had already requested he keep a journal and sketchbook of the quest to show future generations. The young dwarf's face had brightened at her suggestion.

Of the twelve dwarves following Thorin, only three were not of Durin's line. Bofur and his brother Bomber were descended from another of the Seven Fathers. Lina had guessed they were Broadbeams, but she was not certain and had not seen fit to make inquiries. If they wished to join the quest, then Lina would raise no objections. The only dwarf not related directly descended from royalty was the cousin of Bofur and Bomber, Bifur. Bifur had fought in the Battle of Azanulbizar. Lina recognized him by the axe head still embedded in his skull. He had changed a great deal, but his love for the young children he made toys for had not. If the axe had not damaged his fighting skills, Lina was willing to bet he would be absolutely deadly in a fight.

Some of the dwarves followed out of loyalty to Thorin, others followed out of a desire to make their fortunes. Whatever the reasons, Lina was simply glad that Thorin would not be left on his own while she called upon Kira. The group was already larger and better equipped than that which had followed Thrain on his own mad venture. Balin had made sure of that.

Lina thought fondly of Balin for the role he had taken. He had been Thorin's friend and companion since the days of dwelling in Erebor. His wisdom and advice had frequently kept Thorin safe and healthy. Balin knew, too, the concerns Lina had for her husband. The dwarf had already promised Lina quietly that he would watch after Thorin as he had before. The promise made Lina feel slightly better about the quest.

The tired warrior gazed around the room she'd shared with Thorin for nearly a century. She had grown so accustomed to life in Belegost that she wondered if she'd be able to live in Erebor once again. Only twenty years had been spent in that place so long ago, and they were neither the happiest nor most memorable of years. Yet if Thorin was to go, then she would follow. Staying away from Erebor had been hard for him. Now he had the planning and backing to make the journey. Lina would not deny him this.

Thorin appeared. His newly sharpened blades were placed on the table as he shrugged off his cloak. Lina looked up from her place before the fire. She saw the worry, but also the determination shining in his eyes. This journey had taken him over. He worried for the safety of those following him, but he was determined to make this trip a success.

"You are quieter than normal," he observed.

"Am I?" Lina didn't think she'd been any quieter than normal, but for Thorin to comment upon it, it must be true.

"You're still worried this will go as my father's journey did, are you not?" He settled his large frame on the floor beside her.

"The thought had crossed my mind," she admitted softly. "Someone took your father. What's to stop them from taking you as well?"

"If they've waited this long, I doubt they're particularly interested in me," he told her with a wry smile.

Lina did not reply, her eyes fixed instead upon the flames dancing before her.

"Look at me." That simple order captured her attention as it had so many years ago. Her eyes moved to focus on the powerful dwarf beside her. The blue of his eyes electrified her once more. The sensations he'd always been able to cause within her began anew. Shivers ran down her spine as he tenderly stroked her face.

"We will win this battle as we have so many others," he told her. "You will rule Erebor at my side. Fili shall rule after us, Kili supporting him as he always has. The line of Durin shall be reestablished in Erebor."

Lina gave a faint smile at his words. The pain still gripped her heart. Durin's Line would once again rule Erebor. But at what cost?

"Everything will work out," Thorin whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I promise."


	34. Farewells

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

"Kili is anxious to be on his way to the hobbit's hole," Lina commented to Thorin, watching from the shadows as her youngest nephew bounced impatiently up and down on the balls of his feet.

"Of course he is," Thorin answered, checking his own armor and weapons for the last time.

Originally Fili and Kili would arrive at the hobbit's home with their uncle. Kili, however, was excited he had been allowed to go on the quest. He did not want to waste another moment in Belegost. Fili, on the other hand, was quite content to wait for his uncle. After all, he had someone to say good-bye to.

After the initial talking Lina had prodded Fili to do, the young dwarf had become quite attached to the female. The girl, Kitta, had become a close companion of Fili's over the last few years. There were whispers of a courtship among the dwarves of Belegost, but neither Kitta nor Fili had seen fit to confirm or deny the rumors. It was to Kitta that Fili was now speaking. Obviously the conversation was going on entirely too long for Kili. Though Lina could not hear the words, she was quite sure that Kili had just told Fili, "Let's go!"

Fili kept his attention on Kitta, though he had obviously heard his brother. Finally, to make his brother leave the two alone, Fili told Kili to wait outside the city gates. The younger dwarf made a face, but hefted his weapons and left. The young couple did not seem to realize Lina and Thorin were still standing to one side of the room, hidden in shadow. Lina felt almost guilty for watching them, but she could not tear her eyes away, her own heart aching at the pain on Kitta's face.

Kitta's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she whispered to Fili. His response sent one tear and then another spilling over onto her cheeks. Fili's shoulders slumped when he saw the pain Kitta was in. Cupping her face in his hands, he wiped what tears he could from her face. His mouth moved as he quietly tried to ease her pain. And then, slowly, hesitantly, he leaned in, lips just brushing Kitta's. Her eyes fluttered closed as Fili continued. The kiss deepened. Kitta's hands tightened into fists around handfuls of Fili's coat as she tried to hold herself upright.

Slowly, just as he had begun the kiss, Fili pulled back. Kitta stared up at him, her eyes roaming over his face. A small half smile tugged up one corner of Fili's mouth as he lowered his hands from her face. Taking two steps backward, but never taking his eyes from her face, Fili slung his twin swords across his back and lifted his pack onto his shoulder. Making a small bow in farewell, Fili spun on his heel and went to find Kili. Kitta stood stock still, staring after him until he'd disappeared. Then she too made her way out of the room.

Lina glanced over at Thorin. He was hunched over a map of the terrain they would be crossing on the journey. Nothing of the scene had captured his attention. For the sake of Kitta, Lina hoped that Fili made it back safely.

"Balin and Dwalin will meet you there then?" Lina asked, leaning back against the wall.

"When they had finished their business, they will. Dwalin is breaking off from the caravan he was escorting as they return from Evendim. Balin said he was stopping in Bree after returning from whichever settlement he had determined to visit. I'd imagine he'll beat me to the hobbit's house," Thorin informed her as he rolled the map into a tight cylinder.

"We have that meeting with Dain's envoy," Lina reminded him.

"Not for a while, I would guess. He's not even arrived yet," Thorin muttered. He'd sent word of the quest to Dain months ago, offering him a great deal if his cousin would aid in the quest. Judging by the speed of his reply, the fact his messenger had not yet arrived, Thorin did not expect any help to come from Dain Ironfoot.

"Even if the dwarves of the Iron Hills refuse to help, you will have the support of Kira's army and my band of fighters," Lina pointed out. She could sense her husband's frustration.

"Will Kira help us?" Thorin looked skeptical. Ever since Kira had left Belegost, Thorin had grown to distrust her.

"She left the city because she was suffocating here," Lina reminded him. "When I last saw her, she gave me her word to answer my call for aid. I have already sent a message to her and have received her response. I need only to journey north to the fortress and lead her army to wherever you need them."

Thorin grunted in response. This journey had put him on edge. Lina worried about him. He could handle physical danger easily, that was simple for him. What went on inside his mind was what frightened Lina the most. Thorin did not deal well with fools. Nor did he react well to those who did not understand exactly what he required of them. This journey would test his self-control and restraint more than any he'd ever been on. Usually Lina was able to temper his anger, but that task now rested solely on Balin. She doubted Balin had ever seen exactly what Thorin's anger looked like. She wondered if Thorin would be able to restrain his anger.

"You're worrying again," Thorin commented. He sat on the table edge. Grasping her hand, he pulled her close until she stood between his legs.

"What're you worrying about, Lina?" He caught her eyes with his, holding her captive much as he had done when they were quite young. Even so many years later, Lina found she could not look away when his gaze met hers.

"I'm worried about you."

"Explain?" His large hand came up to play with the braids at her temples, twisting them gently around his fingers. Still his eyes rested squarely on her, waiting for an answer.

"Already this journey has changed the way you think, the way you act. You are more short-tempered than you have been since the War. I worry for your safety when you are in a temper," she told him. His gaze darkened angrily for one brief moment. Thorin did not like his flaws being pointed out, by anyone.

"You are right," he answered finally, the darkness beginning to clear away. "I will do my best to control my temper."

"That's all I can ask," she answered. Lina placed a loving kiss on his nose.

"There you are, My Lord!" The messenger's voice broke their quiet moment apart.

"The envoy from the Iron Hills has arrived and is ready to meet with you in the audience chamber," the messenger finished. With a nod of understanding from Thorin, the dwarf departed, leaving the couple alone once more.

"It seems he arrived rather sooner than we'd anticipated," Lina muttered sarcastically. Thorin smiled drily and began making his way up to the audience chamber, Lina beside him.

An hour later Thorin stormed from the chamber. Lina had to hurry to keep up with his long strides. The meeting had gone worse than Lina had imagined it would. Not only had Dain refused to send any troops to support Thorin, he had managed to add what seemed, to Thorin especially, to be a bit of an insult. He had offered to help Thorin with troops if, and only if, Thorin was able to reclaim Erebor. If Lina hadn't known Dain's reputation as a fair and just leader, she would think him a coward, hoping for his cousin's death so that he might become King of Durin's Folk. Whatever his game was, it was frustrating to Lina and infuriating to Thorin.

Lina caught up to Thorin as he entered their bedroom. In his anger, he nearly slammed the door in her face.

"Thorin!" she cried indignantly. Immediately he turned, having forgotten for a moment that she was following him. He stopped and held the door open for her. Lina waited as he closed the door.

"I apologize," he said, finally turning to face his wife.

"We are all nervous about this quest, Thorin," she whispered placing a hand on his cheek. "Please, for my sake, don't let your temper get the better of you."

A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, he'd already broken his early promise to control his temper. Thorin wondered who would draw his ire first once the company set out from the Shire. It seemed Lina was the only one who could quell his rage long enough for it to fade. They stood looking at one another in silence for a long moment.

"I wish you were staying with me," he told her finally, tugging her body against his. His hands began running up and down her body, trying to memorize every curve for the days and weeks they would spend apart.

"I wish I was too, but Kira will only answer if I go in person," she answered. Her eyes closed as an involuntary shiver ran up her spine, arching her against her husband.

"You're cheating," she growled, trying to ignore the sensations his hands were causing.

"So I am," he responded with a laugh.

Had Thorin left as soon as the meeting with Dain's envoy had ended, he would have arrived at the hobbit's house with Bifur, Bofur, Bomber, Ori, Dori, and Nori, or shortly thereafter. As it was, he had to find some excuse to explain away his tardiness. It wasn't until much later that he realized just how bad it sounded for the leader of such an expedition to say he'd gotten lost on the way to a hobbit's hole. Twice. When the door was large and plainly marked.

For Lina, their parting marked the return of the dreams. As she tried to sleep, the warm darkness returned, wrapping around her like a blanket. This night she saw nothing. But what she heard sent chills through her body and raised the hair on the back of her neck. The low hum of her husband's voice seemed to come from all around her, rising and falling as he began to sing. Other voices joined in. Lina could not help but add her voice to theirs. The longing in their voices mirrored her own. The determination she heard gave her hope. Perhaps this quest could succeed.

For one brief night, the fear of what was to come, of what could happen, vanished.

**A/N: First, a huge thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. You guys are awesome! Second, don't forget to check out the tumblr for this story. I post extras there as well as updates I'm not able to post on fanfiction. The link is on my profile page. Third, I'm sorry for the short chapters. The way I had this chapter mapped out, it would have been longer, but it was not flowing the way I'd intended. So I broke it into two chapters. Once I reach a natural stopping point, I end the chapter. Otherwise it ends up horribly disjointed and painful to read. Anyway, thank for reading and have a great weekend!**


	35. Beginning the Quest

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

Lina rolled over, her arm reaching for Thorin. Nothing. Panic stabbed through her. He had not said anything about getting up before her. Then she remembered. Thorin was gone. He'd already left for Erebor. Shaking her head at her own forgetfulness, Lina stepped out of bed.

As she dressed, Lina thought over the dream she'd had that night. Her husband's voice still echoed through her mind, sending chills through her whenever she thought about it. The other voices must have belonged to the rest of his companions as she'd briefly recognized Dwalin's voice in the song. Obviously they'd all managed to meet up. How had the meeting with the prospective burglar gone?

Pausing in the middle of one braid, Lina suddenly realized the dwarves, even if they could get to Erebor, had no way into the mountain. The gates had been shut, only able to be opened from within. There was likely a back door as the dwarves rarely built anything without a backdoor. Those, however, were near impossible to find if one did not know exactly when and where to look. Lina made a mental note to ask Gandalf that very question when she met up with the company in the Trollshaws.

Lina's musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. Quickly tying off her braid, Lina answered. One of her pages entered the room.

"The Dwarf Kitta wishes to speak with you, My Lady," he told Lina solemnly.

"Show her in," Lina answered, rising from her chair. The page bowed. A moment later Kitta entered the room. She seemed nervous, uncertain as to how she was to greet Lina. As Thorin's wife, Lina was the highest ranking female in the city. However, as her marriage to Thorin was technically not recognized by dwarven tradition, Lina was still a commoner.

"Have a seat, Kitta," Lina told her, gesturing to one of the chairs before the great fireplace. The female did so, tugging nervously at her skirt and blouse as she perched on the edge.

"What's on your mind?" Lina asked. She leaned back casually in her chair, taking a moment to examine the younger female. Kitta had never been truly comfortable around Lina, most of the younger females no longer were. The days of "Lina's army" had ended long ago with the coming of the proper dwarven matrons. Now she had come to Lina's chambers, requesting an audience with the one female who frightened her more than anything else in the world. Kitta sat quietly before her, her hazel eyes underscored by dark pouches. Last night had not been restful for her. Lina was willing her sleeplessness had something to do with Fili.

"Can I come with you?" she blurted finally. Her trembling hands had tightened into fists around handfuls of her skirt as she tried to still them.

"Excuse me?" Lina's brow furrowed at the younger dwarf's sudden request. She sat forward, encouraging Kitta to explain.

"You and I are completely different," Kitta began, "and my mother has not always said the nicest things about you."

At that Lina gave a snort of dry laughter. Kitta's words were something of an understatement. Her mother was one of Lina's biggest critics. When she had first been introduced to Lina by Thorin, the old cow had been utterly unable to contain her harsh words about Lina's childless status. Both Lina and Thorin had been so shocked that she would dare fling such terrible words in Lina's face upon the first meeting that neither had been able to respond for several long minutes, giving her time to sweep off into the city. Her husband had hastily apologized for his wife's behavior, but that had set the tone for every interaction Lina had with her since.

"However," Kitta continued, ignoring Lina's reaction, "I realized something last night. I love Fili. If you are to follow Lord Oakenshield to reclaim Erebor, then I would ask you allow me to follow Fili. I will do whatever you ask of me. Only let me go with you."

Lina's eyebrows rose in surprise. She had not expected such a bold request from a normally very quiet and shy dwarf.

"Can you fight?"

"Well, no."

"Have you ever been outside the city?"

"No."

"Would you be able to survive on your own if you somehow were separated from the group?"

"Probably not." Kitta's shoulders dropped lower with each answer.

"Kitta, while I know you have a strong desire to go, and that you would do your absolute best to be helpful, I don't think your presence would be wise," Lina told her gently. "You would be travelling with a group of battle-tested warriors. You are a born and bred lady of refinement. Even if you were able to pick up on our lifestyle, you would become a danger, not only to yourself, but to everyone else the moment we are attacked. Imagine what would happen if, while we were meeting with Fili and the other dwarves, we were attacked. You cannot fight. You have no skill in any weapon as you have admitted readily enough. You would put everyone in danger, Fili especially. He would try to defend you at any cost. Do you understand?"

"I'm not a fool," Kitta answered softly. She rose from the chair.

"I am sorry to have wasted your time, Lady Firehammer." The younger dwarf started to leave.

"Kitta, wait." Lina rose and opened the door. She had her page send for one of her band of dwarves. He darted off down the hallway.

A few minutes later another dwarf appeared at Lina's door.

"You sent for me, Lady Firehammer?"

"Yes, come in." The dwarf Lina had sent for was in charge of her messenger bird. The birds had been trained to find Lina in any circumstance, including the midst of battle. They knew half a dozen other locations including Belegost, the Iron Hills, and Kira's fortress.

"I need a pair of birds set aside for Kitta," Lina told him, gesturing to the female beside her.

"I have a pair that will do nicely. Shall I fetch them?"

"Yes, please do." The dwarf hurried off.

"What am I to do with birds?" Kitta asked curiously.

"You understand that, for the safety of my warriors, I cannot allow you to travel with us. However, I will do my best to give you whatever news and messages I have from Fili. The birds you will have can locate me at any time. All you need do if you wish to contact Fili is to send two notes. The one shall be for Fili and you may seal it however you choose. The one wrapped around it will let me know that the enclosed note is for Fili. If I can, I will deliver those notes whenever I see him," Lina explained. She noticed the immediate affect her words had upon Kitta.

"You would not be with him, but you would be able to have some communication with him. Would this satisfy you?"

"Yes! Oh, yes! Thank you, Lady Firehammer," Kitta gasped. Her eyes had brightened considerably.

The dwarf returned quickly with a basket containing two birds. He gave Kitta strict instructions on caring for the birds before he would allow her to take them. Lina had no doubt that Kitta would follow his instructions to the letter. The female was highly intelligent and she wanted to have contact once more with Fili. With a happy curtsy, Kitta took herself and the birds off.

"Have the assassin sibs arrived?" Lina asked her bird handler once the other female had left.

"They have, My Lady," he replied. "We are ready to move whenever you are."

"Excellent, I will be down in less than a candlemark," she informed him. He nodded sharply and went to inform the others.

Lina sighed as she shut the door behind the retreating dwarf. One way or another, Lina doubted she or Thorin would ever sleep in this room again. If the quest succeeded, the dwarves would reside in Erebor. If it failed . . . it was not likely that either of them would return alive in that instance.

After looking once more around the room, Lina put out her candles and moved to join her warriors. Everything that was important to her was either packed or being worn.

The clear stone ring Thorin had given her still rested upon her finger as it had every day since he'd given it to her. It was the only piece of jewelry Lina wore beyond the marks of rank and freedom she wore. Thorin had told her later that he hadn't actually asked anyone to make it for her. He'd made it himself. That simple revelation made the ring even more precious to Lina. The very thought of Thorin making jewelry was rather absurd when one considered that he'd worked in a forge making weapons and sharpening scythes. Imagining Thorin trying to carve the stone into a ring was endearing to Lina as she knew just how difficult such a task was.

Her fingers left off playing with the ring as she greeted her warriors. The band was small, numbering only twenty including Lina. There were the assassin sibs, the earth mage, a full healer, the bird (and beast) handler, the six berserkers, one other line breaker, and seven heavy skirmishers wielding a variety of different weapons. All had agreed to help Lina in any way they could, and the moment their contracts with the army of Belegost had ended, they'd formed a new group under her command.

At her command, the group mounted the ponies they'd obtained on a trading caravan a year or two back. They were already a full day's journey behind Thorin's company. They would need to make quick time to catch up. Lina noticed Kitta standing to one side of the city gates. The two females made eye contact, Lina giving a small salute as she rode past. With that, the dwarves left Belegost behind.


	36. Following Thorin's Trail

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

The dreams followed Lina as the group travelled past the Shire and Bree. For the most part, they were uneventful. Lina only caught glimpses of her husband and snatches of conversations around the fire. So far everything seemed to be going smoothly. For the first time she caught a glimpse of the hobbit. He didn't look much like a burglar to her, but then, she was dreaming him up. How was she supposed to know what a burglar hobbit would look like?

Lina's company made good time. Occassionally they would come upon a place where a group had obviously rested for the night. At each place, Lina found Thorin's sign engraved for her. The sign was something the pair had used countless times during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. The sign had a number of different parts, each with a different meaning. The first part of the sign signaled the carver was alive. A second mark beside it indicated when the maker had been in that place. A final mark indicated direction taken. The three marks were simple to make, even when in flight. Thorin and Lina had taken great pains to create a simple way to let their loved one know they were alive and where they were going. To anyone else, they marks were just that, random marks. To Lina, it was a relief to see the sign again. As long as the sign appeared, Lina knew Thorin was alive.

Nearly a week into the journey, the company hit heavy rains. Even the assassin sibs with their sharp eyes could not see the road any longer. Lina was uncomfortable ending the journey so early in the day. Her band was to meet with Thorin's the next day. If they stopped now, the journey for both groups would be delayed. However, there was no help for it. The band would not risk their ponies in the deluge.

The dreams that night were different. Lina's darkness carried her through the deluge to a dilapidated farm house. Remains of a camp were scattered about. Ponies stood tethered in the darkness, tossing their heads nervously. Empty bedrolls rested around the dying remains of a cooking fire. What had happened to Thorin and his company? The darkness closes in around her once more.

There were sounds in the darkness. Three horrid voices speaking of cooking dwarves. Lina cried out in the darkness. Where are they? What has happened to Thorin? Where are her nephews?

The darkness parted only for a moment. There was that strange little hobbit again, hobbling around in a bag. The brief opening the darkness allowed Lina to glimpse Thorin. He was lying at the back near a rock. Then the darkness cut off her vision.

"Thorin!" Lina screamed blindly into the darkness. She was woken with a jolt. The assassin sibs were crouching over her, their faces, lit in the dim dawn light, shown with concern. None of the others in the camp had yet stirred.

"What's happened?" the sister, Nes, asked.

"We sensed something was not right," her brother, Kes, told Lina.

"A dream," Lina answered, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"It was no ordinary dream, was it?" Nes queried, watching her leader closely.

"No, none of them are anymore." At this both assassins looked worried.

"If you'll pardon the intrusion," Nes continued, "my brother and I have some dealings with strange dreams. Are they about Lord Oakenshield?"

"They are," she answered slowly. Her fingers played almost unconsciously with the stone ring upon her right hand. The movement caught Kes's attention. Rather abruptly he seized her hand and raised it into the growing dawn light. Lina watched in confusion as he examined the ring before dropping her hand back into her lap.

Neither sib had much more to say on the subject at that moment, both wishing to discuss it further though. Lina was slightly confused by the exchange, but then she often was when it came to the siblings. After training and fighting beside them for over eighty years, Lina still knew next to nothing about them. What they did and did not know about things not pertaining to dwarves was almost as big a mystery as their origins.

Lina sighed and rose, still feeling a bit jittery from the night's dream. Now that the rain had gone, she was anxious to get moving again. Her instincts as a woman and a warrior told her to hurry. Something had gone wrong.

If the rest of the dwarves noticed how agitated their leader was, they gave no sign. The group did pick up the pace, hurrying to where they were supposed to meet the dwarven company ahead of them.

It was nearly midday before they reached the remains of the camp. Lina was startled by how similar the scene was to that in her dream. The only difference was that all the dwarves' belongings and the ponies were gone. The band searched the camp. Lina found Thorin's sign on one stone of the old farmhouse's fireplace. He had been there very early this morning. The sign indicated he had moved into the forest.

Following their leader, the dwarves started into the forest on foot. Their ponies were tethered together and led by the beast handler. One of the skirmishers found the trolls first. With a startled yell, he had summoned the other dwarves. Running into the clearing, Lina came face to face with a stone troll. The creature's mouth was still open in a despairing cry. Carved directly into the palm of its outstretched hand was Thorin's sign. This sign was made shortly after the one found in the farm house. Whatever had occurred with these trolls, Thorin and his dwarves appeared to have escaped somehow.

Thorin's mark indicated the dwarves had moved further away from the main road. But to where? Lina growled in frustration as the dwarves spread out a bit.

"Look for a cave!" Kes called out suddenly. "If these trolls survived long enough in these parts, there's bound to be a horde nearby."

Lina wondered briefly why she had not thought of that. She had spent enough time with Kira to know that trolls could not be touched directly by the sun or they would turn to stone. There had to be someplace sheltered away from the sun for them to hide. As the other dwarves searched for the cave, Lina kept her eyes out for Thorin's mark. It was not until one called out in triumph that she found his mark. The mark was on a rock beside the entrance of the cave. It was made only a short time after the one on the troll's hand.

Most of the band had already entered the cave, searching out what treasure Thorin's band had left behind. Nes and Kes appeared with a set of bone knives each. These they tucked into their coats. A few of the other dwarves came out with golden trinkets or coins. Lina refrained from entering the cave. Her desire to find her husband overruled her natural curiosity. The assassins noticed her agitation and urged their companions to hurry. Following Thorin's sign led them to a small valley.

There were definite signs of dwarven presence here. Two warg bodies were lying motionless in the small valley. One of Kili's arrows had been broken off in the throat of one and its head caved in, likely by a blow from a war hammer. A second had very obviously had its skull split by powerful sword blow. This was where the signs and trails became muddled. Thorin's sign sent the dwarves in one direction, but a set of tracks like those made by a sled went in another. After a moment of debate, the group split in two. Lina's group followed Thorin's sign while the other group followed the sled tracks.

Both groups suddenly found themselves out of the Trollshaws and on a vast, rocky, rolling landscape. The sled tracks were clearly visible to both groups. As were sets of tracks that seemed to be chasing the sled at high speeds.

"Warg tracks," the beast handler announced in disgust when his band rejoined Lina's. The sled trail was quickly abandoned once the assassin sibs had picked up the dwarves' trail. At times the two crisscrossed. Lina felt more frantic than she had ever before. The two groups had not even crossed the Misty Mountains and already they were dealing with a large warg pack.

The dwarves had paused behind a large rocky outcropping. Thorin's mark was cut hastily into it, signaling he was there. Lina ran her right hand over the mark, her eyes closing. Where was Thorin now? Image's flashed through her mind. The dwarves hiding as wargs raced past.

"Where are you leading us?" Thorin's voice growled. Lina's eyes flew open. Her hand jerked back from the sign. Nothing like that had ever happened before. This new development disturbed her. This not knowing and the strange dreams and visions were making Lina more nervous and uptight. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach, making her quite nauseated.

The sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach only grew stronger when the band came upon the corpse of a warg. Lying stabbed, shot, and crushed beside the warg was the warg's rider, an orc. Here, too, was Thorin's mark in the stone. Lina dared not touch the mark this time for fear of what she might see.

Lina noticed her band starting to grow wary of following the trail any further. None of them were in the mood to take on wargs and orcs right now.

"How many of you desire to turn northward and continue on to the Fortress without meeting Thorin's company?" Lina asked finally, looking at each of her companions. Nearly all of them raised their hands.

"I'm sorry, Lady Firehammer," one of the berserkers told her. "But our little band isn't much good against orcs or wargs as things stand now. We signed up to follow you to the Fortress, to find out if the army there would help us reclaim Erebor. That mission can be accomplished without Thorin's company."

"We don't know how far this trail goes," another added. Lina nodded slowly.

"I will still follow the trail if you wish to turn north," Lina told them. "Stay with Kira until I come for you. She will give you shelter until I arrive."

"I will lead them north," Kes told Lina. Of all the dwarves following Lina, only he and his sister had been to the Fortress. Lina nodded.

"I will stay with you, if you will let me," Nes added, looking at Lina.

"Is this arrangement to your satisfaction?" Lina asked her companions. There was a general murmur of approval. She nodded, not entirely pleased at splitting the company.

The larger band left the two females behind, promising to wait at Kira's Fortress for Lina's return. Nes looked to her leader.

"They do not understand," Lina said softly, referring to the dwarves Kes was leading north. "Without Thorin or at least his nephews, Erebor will never be reclaimed. The only other dwarf with a claim to the throne has already refused to take part in this venture."

"We will find them then," Nes answered firmly. Lina gave a crooked smile as she set off in the direction Thorin's last sign had indicated.

It was nearing sundown before the two dwarves found another sign of their kin. An orc lay twisted over a bush, one of Kili's arrows embedded in his body. There were more bodies all around. Orcs and wargs lay riddled with arrows, but not dwarven arrows.

"Elves," Nes whispered as she crouched beside one body. "We're drawing near the borders of Rivendell."

Lina stood cautiously and gazed about the area in the dimming light. There was no sign of movement anywhere. Not even a breeze stirred the grasses. Had the dwarves been captured by elves? Lina could not believe Thorin would have gone quietly. At least one elvish horse would be lying dead nearby if that had been the case. The hoof prints near the orcs were too large for the dwarves' ponies and definitely nothing the orcs would have ridden. Yet there was no indication that the dwarves had actually seen the elves. Or, if they had, the elves had not seen them.

Darkness began to set in around them. Lina quickly pulled a shielded lantern from her pack and lit it. Nes followed suit. The two beams swept over the grasslands, following the trails of bodies to a rocky outcropping. The body of a warg disappearing into the ground signaled something unusual. Creeping closer, the two females discovered a passage, twisting through the rock some distance. Where it ended, neither was sure. Thorin's mark just inside the passage convinced Lina that this was the way to follow.

Both females drew their weapons. Lina left her hammer in place upon her back, it would do no good in such close quarters. Instead she drew a shorter double-sided axe from her belt. Nes eased a sword from its sheath. Neither had any desire to be surprised by anything in the passage way.

The passage went on for many miles. Just how far it went, Lina was not sure. Whenever she was just about to lose hope, she would find Thorin's mark upon one wall. By now the marks were nearly a day old.

It was shortly after complete darkness had fallen above and below the plains that the two realized they were not alone. Sounds from the rocks above them had both females on edge as they wound through the darkness. Someone, or something, was following them. Whatever it was, it kept well out of the light from the lanterns. Whenever the beams were turned to focus upon a sound, all movement ceased.

Lina was relieved when light began to appear in the sky high above them. The sounds of being followed ended as soon as it became possible to see without the aid of the lanterns. Whatever it was, it did not want to be seen.

Suddenly the passage opened up into a deep valley. Coming around a corner, the dwarves were met with the sight of an intricately built house set into the rocks and trees just above the floor of the valley. Rivendell. Lina's mouth went dry. Thorin's company had come here after all. Why? Thorin despised the elves.

Lina was tempted to turn around and avoid the elvish household altogether, but Thorin's mark further down the trail dissuaded her. If he had gone into the house, then she would as well. Nes fell easily into position, guarding Lina's back as the two descended into the valley. Elves could not be trusted.


	37. Galadriel's Gift

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

No sooner had the two women started down the trail than they found themselves surrounded by Elves. Six elves, bows and spears at the ready, had dropped before and behind the two females. Lina hissed angrily, her hammer in her hands. The ledge was not wide enough for the elves to fight effectively against her hammer. If it came to a fight, Lina would be able to knock at least two from the ledge and down the cliff face before an arrow could pierce her.

The fingers of Nes's right hand were suddenly bright with several small, bright blades. Her sword was drawn in her left. Crouching low, she would be able to avoid Lina's back swings and stay well below the elves' spear level. Her lips curled back in a snarl, revealing rows of sharply pointed teeth.

The elves seemed bewildered by the quick reactions the female dwarves possessed. Even more, they seemed curious. Their weapons remained trained on the two, but they conversed amongst themselves, only half-watching the dwarves. Lina was tense as the unfamiliar sound of Elvish flowed from their lips.

"They were set to guard the Hidden Pass against further intrusion," Nes whispered to Lina in Khuzdul. Lina was only mildly surprised to discover Nes could at least understand Elvish.

"Who came before us?" Lina hissed back.

"They mention a band of dwarves, led by Mithrandir, came through the pass about midday yesterday. Had it not been for a Lord Elrond riding along the edges of his lands, they would have led an orc pack straight into the valley," Nes relayed. The pair were quiet a moment longer as Nes listened for further information.

"It seems the sounds we heard last night came from one of the guards. He seems rather surprised we noticed him following us," the assassin commented drily. Lina smirked. Not much would escape Nes's senses.

As entertaining as Lina found it to allow the elves to carry on their conversation unaware the dwarves could understand, she was anxious to discover what had become of her husband and nephews. She glanced at the stone beside her, finding herself staring at Thorin's mark. Taking a deep breath, she pressed her palm and the ring against the stone. Her eyes closed and a brief set of images entered her mind. The line of dwarves stretched down the path before her.

" . . .leave the talking to me," she heard Gandalf say. The band started down the path. Thorin brought up the rear. As the others continued on, he quickly made his mark in the rock and gazed back up the trail. He was expecting her to follow.

Lina drew her hand back, taking a second to adjust to the present once more. If Thorin was still in Rivendell, then he was waiting for her to arrive.

"I am searching for Thorin Oakenshield and the dwarves he was travelling with," Lina announced over the elven chatter. "I would greatly appreciate any and all information regarding their current whereabouts."

The elves looked at her with mild interest and surprise. They hadn't expected her to speak to them at all.

"You are trespassing on the lands of Lord Elrond," the one who seemed to be in charge informed her.

"I got that bit," she muttered, then said quite clearly, "I am following the trail left for me by this band of dwarves. As the trail leads into your lord's domain, I would wish to speak with this Lord Elrond. Gandalf is also on my list of person to whom I wish to speak. If he is still present, I should like very much to see him." Lina did her best to throttle down a sound of annoyance as the elves began to converse amongst themselves once more.

"They will escort us down to the master of the house," Nes murmured. She sheathed her blades. Lina replaced her hammer across her back.

The elves blinked in surprise, but lowered their weapons as well. One of them raced off down the trail, presumably to let this Lord Elrond know they were coming. Another of the guards disappeared back into the Hidden Pass. The rest escorted the dwarven females toward the house.

The group had barely entered the courtyard when Lina caught sight of Gandalf. He stood conversing quietly with two elves, a male and female. The male had long dark hair and a very serious face. The female was taller than he and softer in appearance. Her golden hair seemed to be made of light itself. Her eyes turned toward the group, landing on the female dwarves. As she turned toward them, her male companions took notice of the group.

"Lady Firehammer!" Gandalf exclaimed upon seeing Lina.

"Master Gandalf," Lina acknowledged.

"How did you come to this place?" he asked, concerned that she had followed them this far. "And where are the rest of your warriors?"

Lina explained what had happened, leaving out the roles her dreams and visions had played in leading her to Rivendell. As she spoke, Lina noticed the intense interest with which the golden she-Elf was watching her.

"You are leaving something out," a female voice whispered inside Lina's mind. Lina started and froze. Frantically she tried to think where the voice had come from. She had not touched any sign of Thorin's.

"Ah, Lina, it seems Lady Galadriel would speak with you alone," Gandalf informed her, nodding to the she-Elf beside him. The way in which Lina's words had abruptly cut off was evidence enough that Galadriel had spoken into her mind.

"It's quite safe," he assured the dwarves when Nes growled defensively. Lina nodded to Nes, and her companion removed her hand from the hilt of her sword. The assassin took a step back, allowing Lina to follow the she-Elf. The elf, Lady Galadriel, seemed to glide as she led Lina away from the courtyard.

"I have heard many stories of you, Lina Firehammer," she said, her musical voice sending shivers down Lina's spine.

"What have you heard?" Lina asked, both curious and unsure how to respond to the obviously powerful female before her.

"You saved Thrain from Smaug in the day of his coming. You earned your freedom, and made a name for yourself as a warrior and a smith." Galadriel smiled gently down at her. Lina relaxed a little under her friendly gaze. It was difficult to be defensive around her.

"Now, what is it you did not wish to speak of in front of us earlier? Something, perhaps, to do with dreams and visions?"

Lina felt her mouth go dry. The thought of her mind being an open book to the she-Elf disturbed her.

"Not quite an open book," the elf laughed. "Only what flickers across the surface of your mind is visible to me, youngling."

It was strange to be called "youngling" by one who looked younger than Lina, but, as old as Lina was, Galadriel was likely far older. After a moment, Lina was able to get her thoughts organized. Her explanation began with the first of the dreams as she travelled to the Iron Hills. Most of the earliest dreams were barely more than a single word, a flash of color, or a familiar smell. As time went on, the dreams had become more detailed. The dreams, however, were not consistent in content or length.

Galadriel listened attentively to Lina's story. After the dwarf had finished her tale, Galadriel began to ask a number of questions she had not yet received answers to. How long had Lina and Thorin been joined? One hundred and thirty-nine years.

"When you were joined, did you receive any sort of mark on your hand?"

Lina extended her left hand in answer, pulling her first two fingers aside to reveal the mark left upon her hand. The elf seemed surprised to see there was indeed a mark.

"Are there any others who received such marks at their joining?" she asked, examining the dwarf's outstretched hand.

"Tion had such a mark upon his hand," Lina remembered after a long moment. Now that she thought about it, the mark was extremely rare. She'd seen a similar mark upon his hand when he'd been teaching her his trade. When Lina had asked about it, Tion had grown very quiet and sad. There was such sadness there that Lina had not dared ask again.

"All joinings," Galadriel explained, "are recorded by the Valar, but not all are marked. Did your husband give you that ring?"

Lina looked down at the stone ring. She smiled softly as she ran her fingertips over the surface of it. The look on her face was answer enough for the she-Elf.

"He told me, months after he'd given to me, that he'd actually carved the ring on his own. He had a cut on his hand where the chisel had slipped when he was attempting to do so."

"Why do I have these dreams and visions?" Lina asked suddenly. "I'd never had them before the journey to the Iron Hills. Now they appear whenever I sleep or whenever I touch something of Thorin's, even if it is only his mark in stone."

"The Valar grant many strange and wonderful gifts to those they favor. Somewhere, somehow, you have earned their favor. The bond you share with Thorin is incredibly strong. The stone from which the ring is carved is of a kind to further strengthen that connection. Perhaps, with time and training, you could find a great use for these dreams and visions," Galadrial answered.

"I do not have such time," Lina whispered, her head bowing with sorrow. The orc pack had only made Lina more worried about Thorin. It had been many, many years since a pack that large had been sighted west of the Misty Mountains. Whatever was to come, Lina just wanted to be ready for it.

"Give me your hand, youngling," Lady Galadriel requested. Lina placed her hand into the elf's without hesitation. Her hand looked so scarred and rough inside the delicate white hand. The she-Elf ran her fingers over the surface of Lina's ring, her eyes closing as she did so. A gentle light began to pulse from deep within the stone. Lina stood transfixed.

"I have done what I can," the elf announced, drawing back. "The visions will be clearer, and the dreams will allow you to communicate with Thorin, should you choose to do so. I warn you, however, to be cautious in the use of this gift. It takes a great deal of concentration to hold the connection. If you are in danger, you may not be able to hold the connection, or, if you can, you may not be able to avoid threats to your life."

"Thank you, Lady Galadriel." Lina bowed slightly. When she next looked up, the elf had vanished.

Lina returned to Nes in the courtyard. Gandalf was waiting for her.

"Thorin has gone on ahead," he told her. "If you wish to meet up with him, I shall take you with as far as you desire."

"I will follow your lead, Gandalf," Lina answered. The wizard gave a short smile before bidding his host a fond farewell. Lina and Nes were surprised when two elves presented them with extra supplies for the journey.

"You are always welcome among us, Lady Firehammer," the dark-haired elf lord, told her with a small bow. Lina wondered at his words as she followed Gandalf from the courtyard. Even more, she wondered if these elves would have given aid on the day the dragon came.

Gandalf led the two female dwarves out of the valley by a different route than that which had brought them in. He set a fast pace, trying to catch up with Thorin. The dwarves had been told to wait in the mountains for him, but whether Thorin would heed his words or not remained to be seen. The proud dwarf was still quite upset at having been tricked into going to the elves for aid.

The small group had just reached the edge of the mountains when Gandalf called a halt for the night. For once, Lina was glad to stop. Neither she nor Nes had slept in two days, having pushed themselves to find Thorin's company. Both females fell asleep within moments of lying down. Lina's last conscious thought was of Thorin, wondering if he thought of her as well.


	38. Goblins

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

Lina looked all about her. She wasn't sure where she was. The last thing she remembered was travelling with Gandalf and Nes. Now she was standing in a small cave, sleeping dwarves lying all about her. Her eyes darted about, trying to identify the dwarves in the dim light.

In the back corner, Kili had curled up beside his older brother. Fili had wrapped one arm protectively around the younger dwarf. Lina made a mental note to ask Thorin what had happened to make the two brothers cuddle up together. They were close, true. However she had not seen them this close since they were very young indeed.

Movement at the back of the cave drew her attention. The hobbit was packing his bag. Curious, Lina stepped over the sleeping dwarf at her feet and edged closer. Apparently he was trying to slip out unnoticed as he was very careful to stay absolutely silent. He was nearly to the entrance when Bofur appeared from the shadows. The conversation that followed left Lina absolutely speechless. From what Thorin had said to the hobbit, it appeared her husband was fast losing patience, and his temper.

Her eyes searched the darkness for Thorin. Hidden in a small alcove she saw him, motionless but awake. She recognized the expression he now wore. His conscience was bothering him, but his pride would not allow him to admit his fault in the matter. Lina wondered if he would at least speak up to convince the hobbit to stay. The company needed the burglar. They also needed everyone who had joined the group to stay with the group. If one left, what was to stop the others from leaving? Loyalty? Perhaps. Even if they all stayed, their morale would be severely damaged. A group fighting with low morale was almost worse than no group at all.

Lina watched with her heart in her throat as the hobbit turned to leave. The blue glow at his hip caught her eye at the same moment it caught Bofur's. Blue. Elvish blades glowed blue around goblins and orcs. The soft sound of sand sliding filled the cave. A crack appeared in the ground at her feet. The dwarves scrambled, trying desperately to get out before the ground opened. They were too slow.

"Thorin!" Lina shouted over the chaos. Her husband's head turned and he seemed to see her for one brief moment. The entire company fell as the ground opened the entire length of the cave. Then the whole scene went black.

Hands were on her shoulders, shaking her. Gandalf and Nes stood above her.

"The dreams are back," Nes stated simply.

"Lady Galadriel told me you have these visions," Gandalf murmured. "Tell me what you saw."

Lina, still shaking from the dream, related everything as quickly as she could. As she told the story, her hands flew to pack her bedroll and get it upon her back with her weapons. By the time her story had ended, all three were packed and ready to move.

"Goblins," Gandalf muttered, almost to himself. He focused for one brief moment. Then his eyes shot up the mountain pass.

"Goblin Town. They must be in Goblin Town." He started off into the mountains, both dwarves having to hurry to keep up with his long strides. The band moved in silence. Gandalf was focused upon the path. Several times he changed direction with no apparent purpose. Lina was left to follow and hope they found the dwarves in time. Not only was her husband in danger, but her nephews were as well. There would be no way to explain their injury or deaths to Dis and her mate.

What seemed like eternity for Lina was no likely more than an hour or two. The sun had risen just high enough to extinguish Gandalf's light by the time they reached the mouth of a small passage. The wizard halted their progress with a sweeping of his hand.

"Stay close to me," he ordered. "I shall cast a spell that will render us unnoticeable. Not invisible, as true invisibility is impossible, but unnoticeable. As long as none of us doing anything overt, the creatures within these caves will take no notice of us. Keep moving and be careful what you touch."

Each drew their weapons. Lina chose her hammer, goblin tunnels often widened quite a bit, enough for her to use the weapon effectively. Nes was wielding twin long knives, both of a make Lina had never seen before. Gandalf drew his own sword. They might be unnoticeable, but one never knew how long such a gift might last.

The wizard led the way into the dimly lit passages. The dwarves moved cautiously behind them. Though used to caverns and narrow passages, they disliked those made by goblins and orcs. Dwarves built things of great beauty, made to last for many generations as a testament to their people's might. Foul creatures like goblins simply burrowed wherever they chose like worms. And their tunnels were far less clean than dwarven tunnels. Even the filthiest dungeon was cleaner than the passage Lina and Nes now walked in.

As the group moved deeper into the mountain they began to encounter the first goblins. Lina had never spent much time among the foul creatures unless she was killing them. The last time she had gone willingly into a goblin hole had been on the first journey any of the dwarves had made from Belegost to the Iron Hills. One of their number had been pulled down a hole. Lina, Kira, and Dwalin had dived in after him without a second thought. Kira had nearly lost an eye that day and part of Dwalin's ear had been bitten off. A new scar had been etched across Lina's back that day. The dwarf taken into the tunnels had never been recovered. Only Thorin's daring plan had pulled the other three out in time. The earth mage had collapsed the tunnel behind them, keeping the goblins from following them.

Walking silently among them agitated Lina. Her first instinct was to kill them, but her love for Thorin and her nephews kept her following quietly behind Gandalf. Her hands, however, never loosened their grip upon her hammer.

More and more goblins began to appear, but none seemed to notice the trio passing them. In fact, most of them seemed to be heading the same way Gandalf was leading them. That made Lina more nervous. Wherever they were going, getting back out would likely not be easy.

The twisting and turning passage finally ended. All three stopped at the end of a wooden platform built into the side of the massive cavern. Looking up, Lina could barely see the dark underside of the mountain. Goblins seemed to cover the walls, thousands of them shrieking and howling. Their numbers extended down into the darkness far below the trio. All attention seemed fixated on the dais at the center of the chamber. The largest, most hideous goblin Lina had ever seen led his deformed masses in song.

The subject of the song was torture. Her heart began to race as she watched massive instruments of torture being brought up from the depths. The only ones these things could possibly be used on were the dwarves of Thorin's company.

Gandalf led Lina and Nes to the end of the walkway leading up to the dais. From her new vantage point, Lina could clearly see her husband. He stood defiantly before the goblin king, unarmed. Lina took a step forward, but was halted by the wizard.

"Not yet," he hissed, "the spell is not quite ready."

Her blood roaring in her ears, Lina waited. Every muscle in her body screamed at her. Yet she held her ground. The assassin at her side was just as anxious. Her lips were curled back, baring her pointed teeth as she snarled at Gandalf's restraint. Neither liked seeing their kin in such danger.

What occurred next was something of a blur to Lina. She heard the goblins shrieking in terror and then the cry.

"Cut off his head!"

The goblins cracked their whips across the shoulders and backs of the dwarves before them. Fili and Kili fell beneath the blows, Fili sheltering his younger brother from the worst of them. More of the foul creatures leapt upon Thorin, knocking him to the ground, trying to hold him down.

A blood-curdling battle cry leapt from Lina's lips and was echoed by Nes. The goblins in their immediate vicinity barely had time to jump at the sound before they were knocked into the depths of the cave. The rest were leveled suddenly by a blast from Gandalf.

"Fight!" Gandalf shouted, his voice booming through the cavern. Thorin snatched up a blade, deflecting a blow from the goblin king and sending the grotesque creature stumbling backwards over the edge of the dais. Within moments, the dwarves had retrieved their weapons and were fleeing back down the path behind Gandalf.

Lina could barely keep track of Gandalf as he led them out. Her hammer smashed holes in the gathering goblins as they group fled. All around goblins screamed as they fell to their deaths or were killed by some blow. Fili caught his aunt's hand and pulled her in a quick turn to avoid one goblin. She flashed him a grateful look before crushing a smaller goblin into the rocks with her hammer.

The group came to an abrupt halt as the massive bulk of the goblin king appeared before them, blocking the exit. As the goblin swiped at Gandalf, Thorin stepped protectively between his wife and the goblins coming in from the rear. A dreadful groaning sound made Lina's stomach flip nervously. That is, it flipped before it jumped into her throat. The wooden scaffolding dropped out from beneath the group under the dead weight of the goblin king.

Thorin's arm shot out to pull a teetering Lina firmly against him. Bofur and Bomber seized Nes's wrists as she fell, saving her for the moment. The wooden frame slid and bounced painfully down the uneven walls of the cavern, finally coming to rest far below. Thorin led Lina off the scaffolding onto the nearby rocks and onto the floor beside Gandalf. Nes dropped easily to the ground from Bofur's grasp.

As the dwarves wriggled out from beneath the massive corpse of the goblin king, Kili caught sight of the goblins swarming down the sides of the cavern toward them. Gandalf took off through the caverns, the dwarves hot on his heels.

Lina had never been so relieved to see the light of day as she was then. The passage ended on a rocky downhill, but at least they were out of the filthy goblin caves. She followed Thorin as the company bounded down the slope, trying to put some distance between themselves and the angry horde of goblins behind them.

"Are you all right?" Thorin asked, grasping his wife's shoulder the moment they'd stopped running. He looked her up and down, checking for any visible injury.

"I'm fine," she answered, smiling at his concern. "You?"

"Better now that you've arrived," he replied, pulling her tightly against him. His familiar scent washed over her, reassuring her that he was alive and in her arms once more. Lina had never felt safer.

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has been reading my story. I love you guys. Also, check the tumblr I've linked to on my profile for a very important update regarding the story. **


	39. Flight

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

"Where's the hobbit?"

Immediately accusations started flying. Dori was supposed to watch him. Well, he had been occupied with goblins. The dwarves looked about them, hoping to see him standing behind them. The absence of the hobbit had not even dawned on Lina until Gandalf had mentioned it. After all, she had never truly met the small being.

Thorin went stiff in Lina's arms at the mention of the hobbit. His whole manner changed, and not for the better.

"He's thought of nothing but his home this whole journey," Thorin snarled. "He's taken his chance to escape."

Lina was startled by her husband's words. When had Thorin become so bitter? He could be jealous, true. Harsh, occasionally. But where had this bitterness come from? Lina had not seen bitterness in her husband like this since the day the elves abandoned them and the city of Erebor. But then, he'd become more skilled in hiding his emotions than she liked to admit.

Before anyone could say anything, a different voice came out of nowhere. Lina was shocked when she turned to find the hobbit she'd seen in her visions standing not more than an arm's length from her. Even Nes was startled by the hobbit's sudden appearance. To get past an assassin was a great feat indeed. Lina could not help but be impressed with what she had seen of the burglar in person.

The hobbit's speech further impressed Lina. His promise to help them reclaim their own home even made Thorin smiling slightly.

That small victory for the hobbit was cut short by a piercing howl. Lina's heart began to race. Wargs. She took off down the hill, following the other dwarves. The wargs were rapidly gaining on them and darkness was falling. As if to add insult to injury, the dwarves found themselves trapped at the edge of a high cliff.

"Up into the trees!"

Lina stayed beside Thorin, making sure both of her nephews reached the safety of the trees. Nes easily scaled a nearby tree with Bofur before leaning down and helping Bombur up from the low branch to which he was clinging.

"Get in the tree, Lina," Thorin ordered hoarsely. He widened his stance, bracing to meet the wargs as he waited for his wife to reach safety. Lina obeyed, but stayed on a lower branch until Thorin had climbed up beside her. Together they moved up the tree trunk. Seconds later the first of the wargs began milling about the base of their tree, snarling and snapping up at them.

On a low ridge, the warg riders appeared. For a moment, Lina thought she was seeing a ghost, and her blood ran cold. It could not be Azog. They watched him die at the hands of Dain Ironfoot. No. It wasn't Azog, but another like him.

"Azog!" one of the other dwarves gasped, not quite realizing that Azog had died many years before.

"Not Azog," the orc snarled in his harsh language, "Bolg, the son of Azog."

At that the company was stunned. Lina almost forgot her fear of the creatures still below her. What could the son of Azog want this far south? The dwarf who had killed his father was far to the east.

"I will destroy the line of Durin, as my father failed to do," Bolg called out over the trees. "You will all die at my hand as Thror died at my father's, as I helped destroy Thrain."

At those words a great cry rose from the dwarves. Their fear of the wargs below held them in the trees, but the embers of the anger long buried had been fanned into flame.

"Kill them all, but that one," Bolg announced, gesturing at Thorin, "is mine."

Immediately the wargs were leaping up into the trees, tearing off limbs, forcing the dwarves higher to avoid the snapping jaws. The tree holding Fili and Kili was the first to begin falling. Lina's tree fell shortly after. The dwarves leapt into the next tree and the next, trying to keep beyond the reach of the wargs. It was not long before all fifteen dwarves were in one tree with the hobbit and Gandalf.

"Lina! Catch!" Lina looked up in time to grasp the smoldering pine cone. She shared the heat and flames with Nes who had perched beside her. The pair joined the rest, lobbing flaming pine cones at the wargs below. Howling and yelping in terror, the wargs retreated rapidly. Cheers rose from the mouths of those trapped in the tree.

The victory, however, was short lived. With a groan, the tree began to fall over the cliff edge. Nes sank her hand spikes into the bark, and wrapped her legs tightly around Bofur's waist as he started to slide from the tree trunk. Lina was not so fortunate. Her hands, sweaty and bleeding from the fight in the goblin tunnels and from climbing the rough-barked trees, could not grip the tree. Only her husband's watchful eye and quick reflexes kept her from falling to certain death.

"Thorin, don't," Lina whispered when she saw the look in his eyes. Whether or not he actually heard her, Lina did not know. But he understood the plea in her eyes. Don't go after Bolg. Not now. He isn't paying attention though.

Lifting her up to grab a branch, unable to draw her onto the tree trunk, Thorin released her hands and rose to his feet. His sword was drawn.

"Thorin! No!" Lina clawed at the tree trunk, trying to pull herself up. Horror filled her heart as Bolg urged his warg forward to meet the dwarf charging at him. As Thorin was knocked backward, other voices joined her cry. Branches cracked beneath the weight of Lina and Dwalin as both struggled to join Thorin. The jaws of the white warg closed around Thorin, tightening and drawing a cry from the warrior's lips.

Lina screamed in anguish and rage at her husband's cry. She tried desperately to scramble up the dangling branch, to defend her wound mate. One of Bolg's followers was moving in for the kill. A brief ray of hope filled Lina's heart as the small hobbit raced to Thorin's aid, launching himself at the orc and knocking it away from Thorin. Now, however, her fight to join the defense was only renewed.

"Give me yer hand," Bofur called out. He stretched out his hand toward Lina, Nes's legs still wrapped tightly about his waist. Nes nodded to her commander and gritted her teeth as Lina's weight was added to the strain on her arms. Bofur boosted Lina up until she could stand on his shoulders. Using the strength of his arms, he pushed her up by the soles of her feet until she could scramble up onto the tree trunk.

The female grasped Bofur's hand and pulled him up Nes's body until he was safely on the trunk. Bofur turned to help Nes while Lina scrambled along the rough bark to Dwalin. She grasped his massive hand. The dwarf climbed up beside her. Fili and Kili appeared, having been rescued by Nes. Together, the four dwarves charged the orcs massing to attack the hobbit defending Thorin's limp body.

Anger at the orcs for what they had done and fear for Thorin's life drove Lina. Her hammer dislodged one orc's head before whipping around to crush the skull of a charging warg. A shriek from high above sent chills through her body, freezing her where she stood. Everyone, dwarves, wargs, and orcs, stared up in shock as massive birds, eagles, descended from the night sky.

Lina found her ability to move in an instant. Ducking wargs as they dangled from talons, she raced to her husband's side. He wasn't moving. He was barely breathing. Her hands flew, trying to stop the flow of blood as it welled up from the deep puncture wounds inflicted by the warg's teeth.

"Thorin, wake up," she cried breathlessly. "Wake up!" By now Lina had lost all sense of what was happening around her. Her focus was only on Thorin. Talons pulled her, struggling and crying, away from Thorin's body. He needed her. The only comfort she had was seeing a second eagle lifting his body from the stone it had fallen upon.

Soon her eagle had flown far enough from the other that the darkness of the night obscured her husband from view. Lina ceased struggling. It would do no good. Closing her eyes, Lina forced herself to calm down. Panicking had done Thorin no good while she had been at his side, and it would certainly do him no good now.

Where the eagles were taking them, Lina had no idea. The journey extended far into the night. Lina gave up trying to mark the passage of time as she was carried over the distance. Her exhaustion caught up with her. There in the eagle's talons, Lina fell into unconsciousness and she knew nothing more.


	40. A Love Without Words

**A/N: I apologize for not updating yesterday. Life decided to screw with me. I hope you enjoy tonight's chapter though. I wanted to play with something I experimented briefly with earlier in the story. We'll see how it plays out. **

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

One moment there was light, the next, darkness. Sometimes there were flashes of colors or images. None of them made sense. There was pain. She felt it lancing through her. Yet the pain was not hers. She felt it, but did not truly experience it. It was like knowing some part of one's body should hurt and feeling it ache as one thought about it, but the hurt would stop once the attention was taken from it. Instinctively, she attempted to soothe the pain in the dream.

It felt like her mind had been seized in a trap. She nearly wrenched her mind free, but thought better of it. Whatever had a grip on her mind was not trying to hurt her. The sensation, she thought, must be akin to that of a drowning man clinging to a floating object, desperate to keep from going under. In this case, she was the lifesaving floating object.

As long as her consciousness rested quietly, the other presence was quiet. Whenever she tried to pull back, a sense of desperation and a sudden jolt of fear flooded her mind. She decided the grip on her mind had to belong to someone else. For the life of her, she could not figure out who it would be. She wasn't even sure where she was or what was happening to her.

Panic began to rise within her as she thought. She could remember nothing. She existed. Surely that much was true if she was able to think. Yet she didn't know anything. Who was she? Where was she? Faces moved through her mind, but she couldn't name any of them. Had her face been among those moving through her consciousness? She didn't know. This not knowing frightened her. One of the faces evoked a sense of deep longing within her, but she could not understand why. She was aware of only one thing about herself: she was female. The face evoking such emotion was most certainly male. His eyes were a blue and his nose sharp. Grey streaks ran through a dark mane of hair. Whoever he was, he was quite handsome. She imagined he was someone important to her, but there was no recollection beyond the longing she felt.

Concentrating, she attempted to figure out where she was at the very least. Vague flashes of flames and wings came to her. There the images ended. Frustrated, she extended her thoughts toward the other presence. Perhaps they had memories, or at least sight, she could draw from. Her thoughts melded with those of the other presence. There was no exchange of coherent thoughts, just images and flashes of color. The flames at least seemed consistent with what was in the other's mind. Of the wings there was no sign. There was a foul-looking creature that ran on all fours. A vague understanding of what it was entered her thoughts: warg. Wargs fit perfectly with her flames and wings, forming a small scene. The wings carried the wargs over flames and dropped them into darkness. It seemed like a plausible memory.

The Other disagreed. There were no wings in the Other's memories. There was another type of creature in the Other's mind: an orc. Calling the creature an orc made sense to her for some reason. Some of them rode the wargs. The Other had a sudden flash of memory. A pale orc sat astride a white warg. There was anger at the orc. She felt the anger rising from the Other, her own anger rising up to join. For some inexplicable reason, she was as angry with the orc as the Other was.

Why was she angry? What had the orc done? She thought hard, focusing on the creature. It was fighting someone. She watched as the orc's warg leapt from a low ridge at a short, armed being. Then the memory of the earlier pain came to her as she saw the warg's jaws close around the being. For the first time, she saw the being's face. It matched the face which had drawn such longing from her. The connection brought with it a terrible pain deep within her, a sorrow at the male's pain. As the male's face appeared in her mind, the Other reacted. Through a series of images and feelings, the Other communicated that he was the male she'd reacted so strongly to.

So the Other, he, now had a face. But what did she look like? If he could recognize himself, would she be able to recognize herself? If she could, then her face had obviously not been one of those she saw earlier. To communicate her identity confusion, she showed him the image of his face beside a blank face, mentally nudging his face away and drawing the blank face near. Apparently he understood, for he offered a new face, one that had not been in the previous set. She felt a flash of recognition at the scars and long blonde hair. She knew that was her face. The blank face was replaced by her face.

A sense of relief filled her now that she at least knew what she looked like. It was one step closer to learning who she was. A wave of affection washed over her, projected by him. Accepting such a gesture felt so natural. Returning it felt right.

She felt the pain spike distantly. His consciousness seemed to jerk at the sudden spike. Whatever the pain was, it was happening to him. Extending her consciousness, she tried to shield him from the pain. The attempt seemed to work as the pain faded.

She sent the memory of him being bitten by the warg. Was that what had caused the pain? He sent back an affirmative after a moment's consideration. The memory seemed right to him. The memory moved backwards in her mind. He was going backwards to an earlier event. There was a tree hanging over a cliff. He was holding the hand of a female, her. She was dangling from the tree. Her lips moved and a sound came forth.

Frustration took her as she tried in vain to understand what she had said. The words made no sense. Obviously the words meant nothing to him, or he had not heard them. They were stuck.

Once, she and he were living beings. They had obviously shared a special bond, one that still existed even when they appeared to have no physical form. However, they couldn't be totally separated from their bodies, could they? The pain had to be coming from somewhere, somewhere physical. What had happened to them?

When no answer presented itself, she allowed herself to relax in the warmth of his mind's touch. For a moment, she could almost remember lying beside him, her small body tucked against his. Then, as quickly as the memory had appeared, it vanished. She was left feeling contented and safe. He seemed to feel the same as he tangled his consciousness further with hers.

A sound, the same sound she had uttered in the memory, penetrated the darkness and the tightly melded minds. Both of them started, their conscious minds separating slightly. He was being pulled from her. She was ready to fight for him, but he seemed certain whatever was pulling him away was good. He tugged her after him, keeping his mind's touch light and loving upon her. Hesitantly, she followed.

The farther she followed him, the more light penetrated the darkness. Suddenly his consciousness was gone. She nearly retreated back into the darkness, then, steeling herself, she decided to follow him into the light.

At first the light was blinding, and then it faded to a tolerable level. Faces swam into view. Words began to make sense.

"Aunt Lina!" Hands were lifting her up. Her name was Lina. A huge weight seemed to have lifted from her. She knew who she was now, and she had a body still. Memories came flooding back: following the trail to the elves, the flight from goblin town, the warg attack. Thorin.

"Thorin!" He'd been trapped in that darkness without a name or body too.

"He's here, Lina," Gandalf answered, a satisfied smile upon his lips. Sure enough, Thorin appeared behind the wizard. Dried blood caked the fur of his coat, but he did not move as if the wounds pained him any longer. He extended one hand to his wife, a small smile of relief playing with his lips. Thorin pulled Lina to her feet.

Then, looking about, he asked, "The hobbit?"

"Bilbo's here." Gandalf gestured over the heads of the dwarves. The group parted to reveal the hobbit standing awkwardly at the back.

"I said you would be a burden, a hindrance," Thorin said, "And I have never been so wrong."

Lina smiled with pride as her husband embraced Bilbo. The hobbit had risked everything to save Thorin when no one else could. To see Thorin forgetting his pride for a moment was a beautiful thing.

The hobbit looked over Thorin's shoulder at Lina, then back to Thorin. A question hung in his eyes.

"I know what happened to Thorin," he told Gandalf. "But why did Lina end up in the shadows with him?"

Lina and Thorin looked to the wizard for an explanation as much as the others did.

"That, my dear Mr. Baggins, is quite a long explanation, one we do not have time for at the moment. It shall be told in good time. However, we have a long way to go and a very short time to get there," he announced. With that, Gandalf led the confused dwarves down from the massive peak they'd been on.

Thorin caught Lina's hand and pressed it to his lips. His eyes met hers and a soft smile lit his whole face. Lina's chest swelled with emotion at the love in his gaze. There are no words to sufficiently describe what passed between the two in that moment, and no words passed between them. All that happened between them was a long look and an even longer kiss.


	41. Thank Goodness for Smaug

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

"Now," announced Gandalf once they'd reached the bottom of the stone spire, "I have done that which I set out to do: escort you across the Misty Mountains. Not quite how I'd intended to do it, but it is done."

"Are you leaving us then?" Bilbo's eyes were wide with surprise at the wizard's words. The entire company was just as shocked. Lina felt her heart sink a little. Was Gandalf truly going to leave them? They were still a very long way from Erebor with a great deal of dangerous territory between them.

"I promised you the night we met in the Shire that I would only be your escort for so long. I have another matter that needs my attention, one that is likely to affect you all if it is not dealt with," Gandalf announced. "Rest assured I shall not vanish instantly. You need provisioning and I know the one to do it. For now, perhaps, you had better wash up. The individual I am taking you to might be more inclined to help you if you at least look presentable."

Lina hid a smirk at the horrified expression on some of the dwarves' faces. Some, like Balin, Lina, and Thorin, had spent a great deal of time trying to at least appear presentable. Others, like Dwalin and Nori, were used to spending most of their time absolutely filthy from life on the road, fighting, and, really, not caring if they were presentable in the slightest. Lina was glad of the chance to rid her body of the filth accumulated in the goblin tunnels. Now was also her chance to see what had become of Thorin's wounds, whether Gandalf had healed them or not.

Fili and Kili were the first to strip, plunging into the nearby water eagerly. Much to the shock and amazement of several of the dwarves, most notably Bofur, Nes quickly followed suit. Her dark clothes were dropped carefully on the bank, easily within reach once she was ready to wash them. Then her scarred and tattooed body disappeared beneath the water with barely a ripple. The other dwarves looked at one another before shrugging and stripping down. Gandalf joined the dwarves, relaxing in the water with his pipe. Bilbo looked scandalized momentarily. Lina was not sure which had shocked him more: open nudity in general or that there were at least two females among them. After taking a moment to compose himself, the hobbit joined the dwarves in the water. His eyes, however, remained focused intently on the sky.

Thorin was more protective than usual as they joined the others in the water. Lina again had to hide a smile as she examined the wounds on her husband's chest. Even around his cousins and companions, he was very careful to keep his body between his wife and the others. It seemed he was trying to hide her from view, not that any of the dwarves were really paying much attention to her.

A few of the dwarves were lounging against the banks, enjoying the cool water, warm sun, and their pipes. Fili and Kili were taking turns ducking one another, and, occasionally, Ori. The other young dwarf had been bewildered by their playful manner at first, and then quickly joined in the game. Bofur was trying, without success, to keep his eyes from Nes. Nes, on the other hand, was focused on washing out her garments. It was likely that she was aware of the attention she was receiving from the toymaker, whether she wanted it or not.

"They aren't going to steal me away, you know," Lina muttered, torn between amusement and annoyance. Nori had come too close to the pair, and Thorin had subtly, or so he thought, edged Lina further from the group. Her hands still gently ran over the tooth wounds on his chest, checking to see how well they'd healed. They were surprisingly far along, beyond scabbing with new skin already forming.

Thorin at least had the grace to appear embarrassed. He was probably more embarrassed that he'd been caught than that he was defending her from his companions and at least two of her own friends. Lina returned to her examination of his wounds. Whatever had occurred between the time the eagles arrived and the time Lina awoke, Thorin's wounds had almost completely healed. Whatever, or whoever, had healed them, she had not. Though the darkness was strange, and the connection strong, Lina doubted even she had the ability to heal such terrible wounds.

Even though none of the dwarves were anywhere near them, Lina suddenly found herself being pulled behind a rocky outcropping, hiding the pair from the rest of their companions. She opened her mouth to object to Thorin's overprotectiveness. Her husband cut off any sound, kissing her hungrily. His large hands came to rest on her hips, thumbs caressing her wet skin. The intensity in his kiss sent tremors racing through Lina's body. She quickly forgot to be annoyed with his territoriality, giving herself over to the sensations coursing through her.

They lay together on the bank afterwards, Thorin's arm wrapped possessively about her waist. Lina ran her fingers through his wet mane, content to have his head on her chest and his arms about her once more. For one brief moment, Lina could almost forget where she was and what had happened. The flight from the goblin tunnels seemed so distant. The pain and terror she'd felt watching Thorin fall beneath the warg had begun to fade. Closing her eyes, she could almost pretend she and Thorin were on one of their short trips, skirting the edge of Lake Evendim or resting beside the Brandywine.

"There's a bird staring at us," Thorin mumbled against her shoulder. His eyes were directed at the rock behind them. Craning her neck, Lina caught sight of one of her messenger birds perched quietly. A soft whistle summoned the bird to her. Attached to the bird was a letter. The outer paper was waxed to prevent water damage and had Fili's name written in small, delicate script.

"What is it?" Thorin asked, lifting himself off of her. Lina explained Kitta's request to join her. The female's request did not seem to surprise Thorin, though he was surprised Lina had turned her away.

"The open road and a mountain guarded by a dragon are not places for anyone not used to fighting. For her safety and ours, I couldn't let her come," Lina explained. She pulled on her now dry and clean clothing, preparing to take the letter over to Fili. Her husband chuckled as he dressed beside her. His hands froze for a moment over his belt buckle. The merriment left his eyes, replaced by a more contemplative expression.

"What's wrong?" Thorin's sudden change of mood struck Lina as strange. She watched him, worried.

"I was just thinking," he said slowly, "about the first time I saw you."

Lina sank back to the ground beside him, her eyes never leaving his face. She'd wanted to know the answer to this question over twenty years ago. When he'd refused to answer then, she'd given up ever finding out.

"You were down a side street near the markets of Erebor. My father was on his way to visit a craftsman he'd commissioned a gift for my mother from. I was just tagging along behind, trying to imitate his confident walk. I don't know why I looked down that side street, I simply did. You were sitting quietly, eyes fixed on the wall in front of you. Blood was running down the side of your face, but you didn't seem to even notice it." Thorin went quiet. Lina remained silent, shocked that he remembered that day.

Lina had been very young, only ten years old at the time. It was the first time her father had ever used a weapon against her in his drunken rage. She didn't remember seeing Thorin, but she did remember staring at that wall, simply letting the blood run down her face. The hurt within her had been so terrible. It seemed as if her father's knife had been buried in her heart instead of slashing her face. All she'd ever wanted was a father like the other females had: one who laughed and played with her. Lina looked down at the memory.

"I wanted to stop, to help you," he continued, his fingers playing nervously with his belt buckle. "Had my father not been with me, I would have. I was so focused on impressing my father that I just left you there to bleed. For years I felt guilty about it. When I saw you years later at your stall in the marketplace, I was stunned. I'd spent years shooting glances down that same street, always hoping I'd see you again so I could convince myself you were okay without my aid. To have you suddenly appear before me was astounding. You were so captivating. When your eyes met mine, I could barely breathe. You had survived somehow, and grown stronger. That stuck with me. Though I was young, my father was already talking about the kind of wife I was to have. I knew when I saw you that day, when I saw the strength, the fire, in your eyes, I could never marry any of the women my father would have found appropriate."

Such passion filled Thorin's voice that it brought tears to Lina's eyes. Thorin looked up from the buckle Lina had fashioned so many years earlier, his blue eyes watching her face intently.

"I didn't know then what love was, but seeing the fire in your eyes and the strength within you made me realize I could never be happy with anything less. I found myself drawn to you. It took time, many years, in fact, to realize that I was falling in love with you. The only thing I have Smaug to thank for is that he gave me the chance to be with you. Had he never attacked Erebor, I doubt our lives ever would have become entwined the way they have."

"Thank goodness for Smaug then," Lina answered quietly. Standing on her toes, she placed a tender kiss on her husband's forehead. A small smile grew on his face as he watched her moving toward the other dwarves. Thank goodness for Smaug indeed.


	42. Out of the Shadows

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

Lina found Fili lounging on a sun-warmed rock. His blonde hair lay, unbraided as it dried, splayed out across the surface of the rock. A smile lit his face as he saw his aunt approaching, and he sat up.

"We were a bit worried something had eaten you, Aunt. But Nes assured us that you and Uncle Thorin were simply speaking privately," he teased, giving her a knowing wink. His voice was low so only she could hear it. Heat crept up her neck.

"Be careful what you say, youngling. Your uncle is not as forgiving as I," Lina retorted good-naturedly. She gave him a light cuff upside his head. Fili just grinned. Kili, who had been listening quietly, bit back a laugh.

"This is for you, Fili." Lina held out the letter from Kitta.

"For me?" Fili swung his legs around and pushed himself up from the rock. His brow was knit with confusion as he examined the letter. A slow smile grew on his face as he read the first lines. He backed away until he was resting against the rock once more. The contents of the letter were devoured hungrily. Lina felt almost sad at the disappointment on his face as he read the last lines and found there was nothing further.

"You can always write back to her," Lina suggested. Her suggestion brightened his face. In an instant he had bounded over to Ori, the only on in the group to have pen and paper. Baffled, Ori handed Fili some paper and a quill and ink. Lina just watched with a smile as Fili quickly got to work formulating a reply to his sweetheart. She would need to key the bird to Fili before she left the company to meet Kira. Then, at least, the letters would get to her nephew faster.

A gentle hand on her waist brought her attention back to her immediate surroundings. Thorin stood quietly beside her, his eyes resting on his heir.

"Is she a potential wife for him?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," Lina answered, "that is up to him."

"Of course it is," he agreed.

The dwarves began to dress and repack what few belongings they had saved from Goblin Town. Fili was disappointed to not finish the letter, but Lina assured him that the bird was more than willing to wait for him. He should have time later that evening to finish it. So he returned the quill and ink to Ori for the time being.

As the dwarves began to move, Thorin joined Gandalf at the head of the column, desiring to speak with the wizard. Nes seemed grateful for the chance to drop back and rejoin her commander.

"Saved the dwarf from falling, now he seems to have gotten it in his head I need following," the assassin growled, catching Bofur's gaze upon her. The toymaker quickly looked away when Lina glanced up at him.

"I think he's smitten," Lina chuckled.

"Smitten? With what?"

"With you." That seemed to shock Nes.

One must understand that Nes had lived a rather solitary life with her brother. Raised as assassins, the pair had gone out on their own at a relatively young age. Lina was not exactly sure her entire history. Nes had made mention once that she was not full-blooded dwarf. That, however, was a secret Lina had kept well. Her upbringing, as she had once stated, was away from her parents. Her trainers were mostly older assassins of the clan who had ceased hiring themselves out. There was no love, especially not in their training. Nes had been surprised at the affection she observed between Thorin and Lina, and had said as much to Lina. Warriors of her clan did not show affection. Many of the feelings the dwarves of Belegost had exhibited were foreign to Kes and Nes. So to discover that one of the dwarves had some fascination with Nes was incredibly strange to her.

"What am I supposed to do with him?" she asked finally, her grey eyes wide with shock.

"You could try just talking to him," Lina said, chuckling at her companion's expression. For the first time in her life, Nes had no clue how to proceed. Nes knew how to seduce males, true. That was a skill she'd needed on many missions. However, she wasn't sure what to do with males she wasn't actually trying to seduce. Such an issue had never occurred before.

Nes stayed silent, thinking. She was not used to being someone's objective, at least not without her manipulation of that someone's mind. What made this situation more disturbing for her was Bofur's interest not being purely physical. She was used to males being attracted to her body. She'd worked hard to develop an attractive body. It was as much a weapon as her knives or swords were. Bofur, however, seemed to be more interested in talking to her and doing things for her rather than doing things with or to her. This change of circumstances had her uneasy.

As Thorin finished speaking with Gandalf, he dropped back to rejoin Lina. Nes obliged him, moving further forward in the column to allow the couple some privacy. There was a look of confusion and questioning on the dwarf's face as he approached his wife.

"What is on your mind?" Lina asked as he fell into step beside her.

"I asked Gandalf what had happened that you were dragged into the shadows with me. He told me that he would explain it later this evening, but that I should ask you about your sudden appearance to me before the goblins captured us as well as the sound of your voice when you are not nearby," Thorin replied.

For a long moment, Lina was quiet. She was trying to think where to begin her tale. It was difficult to explain something she did not fully understand either.

"The dreams started when you gave me this," Lina began, holding up her hand. She gestured to the clear stone ring she always wore upon her right hand.

"At first they were just colors and sounds that didn't make much sense. Then I began to get glimpses of your surroundings, and, finally, you. When you told me you thought you were hearing my voice out of thin air the day I returned from visiting the Iron Hills, you had actually heard my voice. I was calling out to you. The dreams only come when we're apart. All the time I spent with you, I never had any dreams. Yet when you left for the Shire, the dreams returned. Until I found you in Goblin Town, I had the dreams nightly. They were still just fragments of vision or sound. Most of the time they didn't make much sense, but then I met Lady Galadriel in Rivendell. I had followed the signs you left for me to the Elves. There Lady Galadriel gave me some understanding of the connection between us." Lina paused and took a breath.

Thorin took the moment to allow this new information to sink in. At least now he knew he was not crazy. He truly had been hearing his wife's voice those nights he stood waiting for her to return to him.

"When we were joined, the Valar bound us in a way that few ever experience. That bond has only strengthened over time. It was the ring you gave me that started the dreams and visions. According to Lady Galadriel, the stone has some sort of property to strengthen previously existing connections, particularly emotional connections. Wearing the ring allows me to see you in my dreams."

"But I saw you as the goblins were taking us," Thorin interjected.

"Lady Galadriel gave me one gift before I set out from Rivendell. Whatever she did, the dreams and visions are now clearer. I think, if I had tried, you and I could have talked that night in the cave. I'm not sure exactly how far this gift extends, but, now that I think about it, the connection between us may have been what pulled me into the shadows after you," Lina finished softly.

"Maybe so," her husband agreed, "but you following me into the shadows saved me, I think."

Lina looked at him in surprise. Her head tilted slightly to one side, silently asking him to continue.

"I don't remember anything after Bilbo attacked the orc, at least nothing about what happened to my physical body. I fell into darkness. I didn't know who I was or where I was. I could remember nothing from my life except bits of light and color. I vaguely saw faces once, but when I tried to recall them, they would not come. Slowly but surely, I was dying. I knew that. Soon I would cease to exist at all. The only thing I had to cling to was the pain. Yet clinging to that seemed foolish the longer I tried. I could think of nothing holding me to life except the pain and a faint sense of longing for something unknown. Then another presence appeared in the darkness just as I was about to let go of the pain and fade. Soothing warmth seemed to envelope me from the Other, giving me something else to cling to. I know now that it was you, but all I knew then was comfort. Trying to piece together our lives and seeing your face, though I didn't understand the significance of what I felt upon seeing it, kept me clinging to life."

Thorin went quiet for a moment as Kili looked back at his aunt and uncle, curious to see why they were bringing up the rear. Lina waited. Her husband was not one to speak freely of such personal matters when another was looking on. It only took one look from Lina to send Kili's attention elsewhere.

"Gandalf said he pulled me out, hoping that you would follow me back to life when he did so. He also told me that, were it not for you, I would have died then. Your presence in the shadows kept me alive."

Lina smiled gently at Thorin. Perhaps this gift was good for something beyond making her miss her beloved more every moment they were apart. If it would help keep Thorin alive again, she would gladly fall back into shadow.

Thorin did something then that he'd never done before. He entwined his fingers with hers and continued walking. Lina had to be steered around a rock by his grip on her hand as she looked back and forth between their hands and his face. A smile spread across his face at her surprised reaction.

"When we return to Erebor," he whispered in her ear, "you will rule beside me, Queen-Under-The-Mountain. Your hand and mine shall be forever entwined, and I care not who sees."

Lifting her hand, Thorin pressed it gently against his lips. Lina could only smile as hope filled her heart. Suddenly the quest did not seem to daunting. Perhaps it was as the hobbit had said as they descended the Carrock. Perhaps the worst was behind them.

**A/N: Fair warning, there will probably not be a chapter tomorrow. I will be gone from 5:45am until 4:30pm thanks to work and school. I can pretty much guarantee I will have homework. So apologies in advance if no chapter gets posted. **


	43. City of Memories

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

The fire in the hearth had begun to die down. Beorn's animal companions allowed the light to fade, leaving the dwarven company to bed down for the night. Left alone in the large house, the dwarves were quite content. They were well-fed, comfortable, and safe.

Snatches of conversation drifted around Lina, but none caught her attention. After the dinner Beorn had fed his sudden influx of visitors, Lina was more than ready to sleep. The skin-changer had prepared a number of sleeping places to the rear of the dwelling. One, larger than the rest, had been set a little distance from the rest of the beds for privacy. One of the dogs had made certain Lina understood this was where she and Thorin were to sleep.

Thorin sat up in the bed, his back resting against one the sturdy, carved beams supporting the room. One arm wrapped protectively around Lina, holding her tucked against his side. Smoke from his pipe curled lazily around the pair. The deep rumble rolling through Thorin's body as he hummed sent chills down Lina's spine. Her eyes closed as she listened, content simply to be.

For at least one night, the dwarves were safe from the orcs following them. Bolg's minions, Gandalf and Beorn had assured them, would not dare attack them here. No orc or goblin was so foolish to go up against the skin-changer on his turf. Where their host had vanished to, Lina was not sure. The dwarves had given him quite a lot to process when they'd suddenly appeared on his doorstep that evening. Gandalf had been very careful to distract Beorn from the sheer number of dwarves appearing with a story of the company's adventures thus far. Lina and Nes had, at Gandalf's instruction, related their side of the tale as well.

Beorn had been very interested to learn of their planned journey to Kira's Fortress in the Misty Mountains. It seemed he'd encountered Kira's forces at some point in the recent past. What he was doing that far from his home or how recently this encounter had actually occurred were questions that went without answer. Whatever the case, Beorn's encounter had apparently not been unpleasant as he seemed to be quite impressed with Kira's leadership.

Thorin's humming ended, and he put out his pipe, setting it aside. Lina pulled back, thinking he was preparing for bed. Instead he pulled her back into the circle of his arms. For a long moment he did not speak. His wife followed his gaze to their nephews as they whispered to one another.

Lina smiled softly as she watched Fili wrest Kitta's letter from Kili's grasp. Just before he'd sent his finished letter back to Kitta, Lina had keyed the bird to her young nephew. The bird would now travel directly to Fili with Kitta's letters. There would be no need for the letters to pass through Lina's keeping before they reached her nephew. Kili had teased his older brother about his secret love mercilessly. Fili, however, had just shrugged off his brother's words, smiling as he read the letter again.

"When will you be leaving the company?"

Thorin's question startled Lina. She looked up at him. Why was he asking such a question now? Though, she supposed, he should know. After Gandalf's declaration that he would be leaving the dwarves soon, he had spoken quietly to Lina and Nes regarding their plans to journey back to Kira's Fortress. He had urged them to remain with the company until they reached the edge of Mirkwood which was when he was to turn back. The wizard would escort them safely to the Misty Mountains, leaving them about a day before they would reach the Fortress.

"I will stay with you until we reach the edge of Mirkwood," she answered slowly. "Then Nes and I will rejoin our comrades. I have heard nothing from them since the night they went north and we followed you. I can only assume they have reached the fortress."

Her husband didn't answer for a long time. Lina wondered what he was thinking about. The expression on his face was so serious. That worried her.

"Take Fili and Kili with you when you go," he whispered, ensuring only she heard him.

"What? Why?" Lina pulled back to get a better look at him. Why did he want to send their nephews back now? He had been very insistent Fili accompany him earlier. What had changed?

"This quest is turning out to be more dangerous than I'd anticipated," Thorin began. "I cannot, in good conscience, risk my nephews any further."

"If you send them back now, they will never forgive you," Lina pointed out. "They've grown so much already. What happened while we were apart? Something brought them closer than I've seen them since they were small, and it has you worried."

"You have heard the legends of the thunder battles?"

"I have."

Thorin cleared his throat and began the tale. At Gandalf's urging, the dwarves had left Rivendell at sunrise to prevent the elves from stopping them. The plan had been to find a place in the mountains to wait for Gandalf to catch up. As they were struggling through the pass, a storm caught them. The rain had been a hindrance, making the path more dangerous than it should have been, but they had thought it normal. Shock and awe had coursed through each and every one of them when they spotted the first stone giant, looming above them.

Here Thorin paused, trying to detach his memories from his emotions. Whatever had happened, Lina knew, it had shaken him to his core. That took some doing. Very few things disturbed her husband.

"It was hard to hear above the crunch of rock against rock and the pounding of the rain, but I could hear just enough. The path we were standing on began moving suddenly as another stone giant rose up from the mountain side. Some of us stood on one leg while the rest stood on the other. As the giant rose, I heard Fili shouting to Kili. They had been separated. Almost as soon as the giant we were on had stood, it was knocked out of the battle. My group managed to scramble onto a solid ledge, but Fili's group was trapped on the other leg of the giant as it fell."

His voice died away. Lina decided to try something. Touching Thorin's mark had shown her what had been happening the moment the mark was made. Sleeping apart from Thorin gave her dreams about what was happening to him. She wondered if there was any way to see the memory he was reliving.

"I would like to try something, if you are willing to let me," she told her husband. He nodded.

Placing one hand on each side of Thorin's head, Lina drew in a deep breath before closing her eyes. She sent herself into a trance using a technique she'd been taught as a young warrior. The familiar warm darkness embraced her as she slipped into the dream world. A sense that she was not alone made her aware that Thorin's mind was also here.

Cautiously, Lina mentally reached out to touch Thorin. Interacting with his conscious mind was quite different from how they'd interacted while trapped in the shadow realms. For one, Thorin and Lina were both well aware of who and where they were. Thorin's mind was also heavily armored when he was truly attached to his physical form. In the shadow realms, there had been nothing truly in his mind and so there had been nothing to protect. In this dream world, Thorin was fully aware of what his mind contained and so protected it fiercely.

Thorin lowered the walls protecting his mind, allowing his wife entrance. Lina found herself at the edge of what seemed to be an exact representation of Erebor. Her mental form was, both literally and figuratively, dwarfed by what she was seeing. She really hadn't known what to expect when trying to enter another's mind, but she had not expected a city. Her own mind was organized more like a library. To find a certain memory, one needed only to look on the right shelf and select the correct volume. Lina didn't even know where to begin looking for the memory in Thorin's city.

It seemed Thorin had sensed his wife's confusion for a representation of him appeared before her. He held out his hand, asking her to give him hers. With a smile she slipped her hand into his. The walked through the city, Thorin leading her past places she recognized. Memories of other dwarves wandered in and out of dwellings and shops, sometimes interacting with each other as memory dictated. Every now and again, Lina caught a glimpse of her younger self wandering among the remembered dwarves. Her ten-year-old self sat quietly down a side street, blood still running down her face. At a stall in the market, she saw the eighteen-year-old self adjusting the links of a bracelet. She wondered how many other memories of her were hidden throughout the city.

Thorin led her into the royal compound, a place Lina had only glimpsed during celebrations. These halls were far more detailed than the streets the pair had passed through. Perhaps it was because this had been his beloved home that he had such minute detail. As they passed through the halls of the royal compound, Lina noticed something strange. There was an entire section that looked more like Belegost than Erebor. Lina tugged Thorin to a halt and looked questioningly from the strange section to him.

A small, slightly embarrassed smile softened his face. He pushed open a door that resembled the one leading into their bedroom in Belegost. Hundreds of identical doors ran the length of a seemingly infinite hallway. While the doors all looked the same to Lina, Thorin seemed to know exactly what memory each one opened in to. He chose a door three down from where they had entered the hallway. Lina noticed that the handle was well-worn, as if the door was frequently opened. Opening the door, Thorin nudged Lina inside.

She found herself in their bedroom in Belegost. It was night, yet Lina could clearly see the pair of them, lying in bed. Memory-Lina was sound asleep, curled up against Memory-Thorin's chest. He, however, was wide awake. His hands twitched as if he was fighting to keep them from moving. Then, slowly, deliberately, he brushed the tips of his fingers against her cheek. A look of astonishment crossed his face and joy filled his eyes. It was a look Lina had seen before, on a morning one-hundred-and-thirty-nine years earlier when she'd woken up in a forest clearing beside him.

Thorin tugged her gently from the room and out of the hallway. The doors shut behind them, leaving Lina to wonder what other memories of them were stored down that hall. They moved deeper into the compound, coming to a halt before a series of blank doors. One had flashes of light appearing through the crack beneath the door. This Thorin opened, revealing the company clinging to the moving stone legs. Thorin's company scrambled to safety, but the other half remained trapped on the other leg.

Lina's whole body went cold as the giant fell, his body smashing into the hard face of the mountain. Even knowing Fili was still alive, that none of the company had perished, Lina felt panicked as the stone giant's lifeless body crumbled away, the dwarves nowhere to be seen. Thorin's desperate cry for his nephew echoed through the memory.

Taking a step back, Lina allowed Thorin to shut the door on that memory. He just looked at her, his eyes filled with uncertainty. Lina touched his cheek gently, and then began easing out of the dream world. The darkness closed in around her, hiding Thorin and his city from view.

The sound of the others dwarves drifted into Lina's ears, waking her fully from her trance. She opened her eyes to find Thorin looking at her just as he had in the dream.

"Will you take them back with you?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "We shall see how this venture stands when we reach the edge of Mirkwood."

Thorin nodded his understanding, his gaze returning to rest upon their nephews. The two young dwarves had begun to bed down for the night. Lina smiled as Fili affectionately ruffled his younger brother's hair.

Her mind drifted back to that hallway in Thorin's city of memories. What other memories did that hall contain? She looked up at him questioningly. Thorin simply smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"We don't need to visit all those old memories," he whispered, "Not when we have so many more to make."

**A/N: I apologize for the lack of updating. School got a bit crazy with one of my art projects coming due on Thursday. I spent most of my day at work or school. Then I managed to make myself sick. So when I was home, I was doing homework, eating, or sleeping. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Thank you to all of you who have been reading, and a big thank you to those of you sending me such wonderful reviews. Have a great weekend, and I hope to update soon. **


	44. The Tournament at Beorn's House

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

Lina woke with a start. Had it not been for Thorin's presence at her side, she would probably have a weapon in her hand. The smells were unfamiliar, but reminded her she was in Beorn's home. A glance through a small window revealed the sky turning pink with the dawning of a new day.

She was just as glad it was nearly morning. There would be no returning to sleep for her. The dreams had ensured that. Even if she could sleep, Lina was not sure she wanted to. She was not sure what to make of the images still haunting her waking mind. They were not the dreams of the past. For nothing in the dreams had been written in the histories of the dwarves, Lina would have known if it had. Yet she could not see these being prophetic dreams. The darkness shown in them was far beyond anything Lina could have ever imagined. A dark Elven King sat upon the Mirkwood throne. His features were certainly not those of Thranduil. Who this dark elf was, Lina did not know. His people both loved and feared him. The darkness and cruelty of his reign threatened even the dwarves of the Iron Hills. An evil like that had not been seen in this world since the ancient wars against Sauron. While Lina did not particularly like the Wood Elves of Mirkwood, she could not see any of them becoming as twisted as the ruler in her dream.

The sun peaked over the horizon, turning the sky from pink to orange. Almost immediately, Lina heard the sounds of animals moving about the other end of building. Two large dogs were dropping logs into the fireplace. One was preparing to start the fire anew. Lina watched in fascination as the animals began bringing in food and drink for Beorn's guests. She had never seen anything like it. A pony trotted over, making it quite clear that Lina was welcome to the breakfast now spread out on the vast expanse of the table. Then the animals let themselves back out of the structure.

Lina stood and stretched. Her eyes flickered over the rest of the company, still sound asleep. Bilbo lay hidden in the shadows, the blanket pulled tightly over his head. Bofur slept upright with his back against his brother's enormous girth. Fili and Kili lay sprawled across their two beds, limbs tangled together. Ori had fallen asleep with a ball of yarn in his hands, a half-finished scarf lying in a heap beneath him. The rest of the dwarves had kept pretty much to themselves, most buried under a mound of blankets, trying to create little caves. There was one noticeable absence from the group. Gandalf was missing. When Lina had fallen asleep in her husband's arm, the wizard had been sound asleep near the fireplace.

Thorin rolled in his sleep, reaching blindly for his wife. His hand found Lina's leg, but that didn't seem right to him.

"What're you doing up?" he asked as he pushed himself upright.

"Breakfast is ready," she answered. Thorin looked up at her, unblinking. He said nothing, however, as the other dwarves, hearing his voice, began to awake. At the scent of food, Bombur was on his feet, dislodging his brother. The other dwarves followed him to the table, hoping to snatch some food away from Bombur before he ate it all. Bofur, having been knocked over when his brother woke, went about waking the other dwarves and Bilbo.

Thorin waded into the melee briefly, and then reappeared, bringing food back to his wife where she still stood. He sank down onto the blankets, making it clear he was not finished speaking with his wife. Lina accepted the breakfast Thorin handed her, settling back onto the blankets beside him.

"Something is troubling you," he observed after another moment of silence. "What?"

"Several years before the first time you told me you'd dreamed of reclaiming Erebor, I too had dreams of what lay ahead. But my dreams were dark and troubling. They have only grown more so since this journey began. When I do not dream of you, I dream of darkness in many forms." Lina fell silent.

Ever since that first uneasy feeling she'd experienced on the road into Belegost nearly twenty years earlier, Lina's dreams had grown darker. The uneasiness had developed into a sickening fear of some unknown evil. That fear, that evil, had been given a face in her dreams that night. It only unsettled her further.

"Do you fear the outcome of this quest so much?" Thorin asked quietly.

"Not the quest," Lina answered carefully. "It is something else. There is something that has intersected with this quest, but it will continue far beyond the success or failure of this venture. It is because of this that I cannot help but fear the outcome of the quest."

All conversation between them ended, both lost in thought. What Thorin was thinking about, Lina could only guess. Her own mind was occupied with the feeling of dread growing within her. Something was horribly wrong. The dreams, she was positive, were not prophetic. Lina might be able to see over vast distances and into the past, but only with respect to her husband. The gift of the Valar did not extend to the nebulous future of the rest of Middle-Earth. However, the dreams did speak to the evil she felt. Whatever this evil was, she was going to come face-to-face with it someday. She simply hoped, and prayed, that confrontation would wait until after the quest had concluded. Perhaps, once the dwarves once again inhabited Erebor, Lina could focus on this evil. Until then she resolved to put the notion from her mind. It was only serving to distract her from the task at hand.

The dwarves finished breaking their fast, and began to venture out of doors. They were all curious about the rather conspicuous absence of both their host and their guide. A search of the surrounding area, however, turned up no sign of either the skin-changer or the wizard. Both seemed to be some distance away. Where they had disappeared to, no one knew. Once that fact had been established, the dwarves contented themselves with other pursuits until one or the other should return.

Lina and Nes took stock of their losses in the flight from the goblin tunnels. When they had entered, both had carried large packs of supplies containing both what they had brought from Belegost and what the elves of Rivendell had given them. The fighting had been so fierce that both were forced to abandon the majority of their supplies. Neither had lost any weaponry, however. Their swords could use sharpening to be sure, but the damage to their weapons and armor was minimal.

Someone, Lina was not sure who, decided the dwarves needed to have an impromptu tournament. The idea was to see who the best fighter among them was. Bets were quickly being made. The dwarves who remembered the Battle of Azanulbizar or the bouts the line breaker had run against Thorin placed bets on Lina ranking at least second, usually behind Thorin. Those who'd never watched either Thorin or Lina fight placed bets on Dwalin. Dwalin just laughed when he discovered Bilbo and Bombur had both placed bets on him taking first. He knew he was not likely to best his mentor, Lina. Most of the dwarves had watched their companions fight before. The only real wild card was Nes. Though the dwarves had glimpsed her fight during their flight from Goblin Town, none had seen the true extent of her skills. Even Lina did not fully know what she was capable of. Lina quietly placed a bet on Nes winning the tournament.

The rules of the tournament were quite simple: no killing or maiming one's opponent. Other than that, any tactic to either disarm or knock out one's opponent was allowed. Live weapons were used as those were the only kind available.

The first round of the bouts was quickly organized. Lina's first opponent was Bifur. The old warrior had a rather erratic fighting style. Sometimes he acted like he was a wielding a pike, just trying to keep her at a distance. Other times he started spinning like a top, forcing Lina to jump backwards to avoid his deadly spinning. It took her a few minutes to figure out how to interrupt his spinning and bring the bout to an end in her favor.

Nes was torn between amusement and dread when she discovered her first opponent was Bofur. Her hope for the bout was to defeat him so soundly that he had no desire to be near her again. It had taken her some time the previous night to escape him so she could sleep. Her goal in mind, Nes went after her opponent. Bofur swung his mattock in a wild attempt to block the blow from Nes's sword. He barely managed to do it, but discovered Nes was a singularly unusual opponent. Her fighting style was fluid and lightning quick. He would barely deflect one blow before she was striking again. The fight dragged on for quite some time, nearly fifteen minutes. It only took the on-looking dwarves a few moments to realize Nes was simply toying with Bofur. The male dwarf was sweating and panting heavily while Nes had not even slowed or shown any sign of growing weary. If anything, Nes seemed to be getting faster and faster. Then, on one final spin, Nes wrapped her legs around Bofur's neck and flipped him onto his back. His mattock sank into the dirt with a dull thud and a groan at the force of the impact escaped his lips.

Silence fell over the rest of the company at the sudden end to the bout. It had been quite plain to the dwarves that Nes had been playing with Bofur. Yet none of the males had guessed just how strong she was until that moment. Lina hid a smile as Nes accepted her opponent's submission and headed toward her commander. She could see Nes struggling to hide a similar smile. She obviously felt confident that Bofur would not be following her any more.

As Nes disappeared briefly back into the house, Lina shot a glance over to Bofur as he was being helped up by Bilbo and Bifur. The look on his face had Lina torn between shock and hysterical laughter. The male dwarf had the most ridiculous smile plastered on his face as he stared after Nes. Nope, he wasn't discouraged in the least.

Lina next opponent was Balin. Surprisingly, in all their long years of friendship, the pair had never done battle before. In some respects, Balin had the upper hand in that he had observed Lina's fighting far more than she had observed his. Lina, however, had the bonus of far more years in direct combat. While Balin had helped Thorin deal with politics, Lina had been fighting orcs and wargs beside Kira and Dwalin. Lina also had nearly one hundred years of learning dirty, under-handed fighting from the likes of Nes and Kira which her opponent did not. It was one such under-handed trick that knocked Balin out of the tournament after a long and well-fought bout.

There was an air of disappointment about Bilbo and Bombur when Dwalin was knocked out of the tournament by Thorin. The bout had been close. There were moments in which Thorin managed to surprise everyone by staying on his feet with his sword in his hand. Dwalin's hammer blows were far heavier than Lina's, sending Thorin stumbling backwards to avoid them. Most of the blows, had they connected, would have knocked Thorin unconscious. The round ended with the same move many bouts between Lina and Thorin had ended with. Thorin would get in behind his opponent and deliver a hard blow to the back of his opponent's legs, knocking them to the ground.

In no time at all, the combatants had been narrowed to four dwarves: Lina, Nes, Thorin, and Fili. By then Beorn's companions had set out a noon meal for the dwarves. Everyone agreed to take a break for food and relaxation before beginning the final bouts. Additional bets were being placed now on the outcome of these fights. Fili was not expected to be able to best any of the senior warriors, though he had done respectably well in earlier bouts. After watching Nes's bout with Bofur, many were becoming convinced that she would at least place second. Lina, as Nes's next opponent was amused by the assassin's sudden gain in popularity.

For nearly an hour after their meal, the dwarves lounged in the sun, doing less arduous tasks. Some repaired the laces and toggles on boots or cloaks. Others napped. Lina took the opportunity to write a letter to her companions who had journeyed north to Kira's Fortress several days earlier. They had not been so far south that the group would not have reached the fortress by now. The silence disturbed Lina.

Her concern for her companions was momentarily forgotten as the second round of the tournament began. Thorin and Fili went first. Having trained with his uncle from the time he could first hold a sword, Fili was able to survive for quite some time. Lina watched with pride as her nephew skillfully parried and returned Thorin's strikes. The two males became locked tightly together for a brief moment. Thorin took the opportunity to whisper something to his young heir, shocking his heir enough to be knocked over backwards with a harsh shove. Even after Thorin was declared the winner of that bout, Fili sat staring up at his uncle in shock.

"What did you say to him?" Lina asked her husband as she watched Kili help his brother up from the dirt. Thorin grinned cheekily at her, but refused to say a word.

Lina and Nes were up next. It had been a few months since Lina's last bout with the assassin. Who knows what tricks Nes had learned or developed since then? For this round, Lina opted to use a staff like Ona had once wielded. It was one of the few weapons Lina had any success with against Nes. Her normal war hammer was far too slow to be effective against the assassin. A sword was of little effect, being both too short and too slow. The bladed staff extended Lina's reach, was light-weight, and extremely fast. It was the type of weapon she used only in smaller skirmishes when she needed to clear out enemies rapidly.

The male dwarves found themselves very much a part of the combat once it began. Nori found himself used as a springboard in one of Nes's flying attacks. Lina had to move quickly to avoid the knives thrown while her opponent was mid-air and then deflect the heavier blow she knew would come. In order to avoid further use as living shields, the males learned quickly to dart away from the females whenever the fighting drew close to them. Few blows actually connected during the fight. Both females were fast and avoided contact as much as possible. Lina was, of the two, the strongest. If they became locked together as Fili and Thorin had, Lina would be able to easily end the bout. Nes, however, was the fastest and most flexible. Even Lina's most accurate shots seemed to slide right around her opponent.

Suddenly the fast and furious fighting had ended. Lina was on the ground, Nes above her with a knife. It took the rest of the company several seconds to realize just what had happened. In avoiding a spin of Lina's, the assassin had slid under the blow and dropped to the ground. Continuing to slide, she'd wrapped tightly around Lina's legs, bringing the line breaker to the ground before leaping on top of her.

Nes extended her hand to Lina, helping her out of the dirt. The two women congratulated one another on a bout well fought. Nes immediately began preparing for her bout with Thorin. Thorin took the moment to check his wife over.

Lina gave him a soft smile as he made sure no serious damage had been done during the bout. When it came to her safety and well-being, Thorin was such a worrier. True, he cared for his nephews and other family members a great deal. His concern for Lina was something else entirely. Lina wondered vaguely, as his hand ran over her arms and torso, what would happen to him should she be killed in battle.

Before the dwarves could begin the final round, Gandalf returned. Interested in knowing where their wizard had disappeared to all that day, the dwarves promptly forgot about finishing the tournament. His tales were far more interesting.

**A/N: I apologize for the lack of updating these past few weeks. I've been pretty busy with school and the like. As things stand now, this story will probably only be updated once a week or so. I think I bit off more than I can chew this semester. Thank you to all my loyal readers! I look forward to hearing from all of you. Let me know if you think I can improve the story in any way. I'm always open to helpful suggestions. **


	45. Of Life and Love

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

The prickling of the back of her neck alerted Lina to the eyes resting on her. Without moving her head, she flicked her eyes around the group before her. She caught the burglar watching her from across the small camp. As soon as he realized she had noticed him, he tore his eyes away. Lina was not sure if she should be annoyed or curious about the hobbit's newly developed habit of staring at her. Since the company left Beorn's house three days earlier, Lina had caught Bilbo staring at her with a mixture of curiosity and wariness at least three times a day. It was getting frustrating. If he wanted to ask her something, as it seemed he did, then he should just come right out and ask it.

Lina disliked this hobbit's rather indirect approach to her. Since they had landed on top of the Carrock, Bilbo had not spoken to her. His reluctance to interact with her was similar to that of the young male warriors after Lina had brained that goblin with a shovel over a century ago. He was torn between awe and fear.

Rising, Lina decided it was time to end this watchful silence once and for all. She no longer had the patience to deal with obvious, yet distant, admirers. Once she had been able to cope with a number of admirers, both male and female, following her around and watching her from a distance. Now, with so much at stake, Lina was not willing to let the burglar's fixation with her get in the way of the quest.

"What do you want?" Lina asked flatly, dropping down beside the hobbit. Bilbo's head whipped around and his eyes went wide as he fell over backwards. Apparently he had not heard her approaching. Lina waited, her expression blank, as the hobbit righted himself.

The hobbit took a moment to compose his features before replying. His answer was halting, though he tried not to stammer, and was what Lina had been expecting. He was curious about her status in the group, how she had become such a fierce warrior when he'd never heard of female warriors among the dwarves before her.

Lina took a moment to explain how her life had shifted so dramatically on the day the Dragon came. Apparently Bilbo had not been made fully aware that several of the dwarves in the company had, at one time, actually lived in Erebor. It seemed he'd spoken mostly to Fili and Kili about the Mountain, and received the impression that none of the company had ever been there. She told him briefly about life in Erebor, the coming of Smaug, and the wanderings before settling in Dunland. Her story touched on the War of the Dwarves and Orcs, the move to Belegost, and life there. It took her some time to relate the tale, and, even then, Lina was quite sure she'd be made to retell it several more times until the curious hobbit had ferretted out every detail. As much as possible, Lina had left out the interactions between the dwarves. She did not desire to place every event and action into light, feeling it might be a little too bold.

After taking in all this new information, Bilbo sat quietly for a moment. It was a lot to process. Yet one question remained on his mind. This was a question Lina, for all she had told him, had not answered.

"Why Thorin?" The question stunned Lina.

"What do you mean?" She tried to understand the question, yet could not.

"Why did you marry him? He's got a temperament that would make my cousin Lobelia look like a saint and is just about as frightening as that orc pack that ran us up the trees." Bilbo didn't seem to think before he said the last sentence. It simply came out accompanied by the most entertaining face Lina had seen anyone make in a very long time. She actually started laughing. Apparently the burglar had more spit and spirit in him than she'd initially thought. Bilbo looked surprised by her reaction for a moment, but readily joined in the laughter.

"He wasn't always so solemn," she answered finally, "nor so angry. This quest, or, rather, the longing for this quest, has made him short-tempered . . . even around me." She added the last three words quite softly. Thorin had done his best to hide his fixation with returning to Erebor from her, but had been unsuccessful. A number of times he snapped at her over some ridiculous little thing. He'd never failed to apologize to her, and always tried so hard not repeat his mistake. Yet he had changed, and not entirely for the better.

"I was quite young when I first saw Thorin. I was still the daughter of a nobody, selling jewelry in the markets to make ends meet. I never would have imagined the life I've lived since then. Not even in my wildest dreams would I have considered that I would fight in and survive a battle like Azanulbizar. I certainly would not have dared to dream of marrying Thorin. My station in life what fixed from the time I was born. Yet when the Dragon came, I was able to gain my freedom from males. Thorin's father gave me the ability to choose my own fate. I suppose the life I have now is due entirely to Smaug's arrival in Erebor." Lina went silent for a moment.

What the hobbit had seen of Lina and Thorin made it difficult to understand how two such different individuals could be married. Lina laughed easily and gave out teasing as good as she got. Thorin, on the other hand, was brooding and quiet, often sitting by himself or with one of the other dwarves. Only Balin, Dwalin, or Lina spent much time around him. His nephews both loved and feared him, but were usually too rambunctious for Thorin's taste. The leader of the company rarely smiled, and it was even rarer to see him laugh. Bilbo had never seen him laugh or smile until Lina had joined the group. Bilbo, a creature used to laughter and good cheer, was slightly frightened by the serious dwarf.

"Weren't you frightened by him?" Bilbo pressed.

"Oh, yes," Lina laughed, "Though, I imagine, not in the same way he frightens you. The strength and power he possesses stifled me back then. I could barely breathe in his presence, and my heart seemed to seize within me. Getting used to his presence is something I still have not been able to do."

"So what happened between you?"

"In Erebor, he was in a completely different world. Had Smaug never come, I know he and I would never have wed. When our people were forced to leave the city, we were able to move in the same circles. Obviously something about me drew him in, for I was still uncertain about approaching him. I wanted to be near him, yet I wanted to run the opposite direction whenever I saw him coming. He seemed to be drawn to me as much as I was to him. One day he made his interests clear, and we rarely spent a moment apart for many years."

Bilbo looked at the stocky female sitting beside him. So many emotions had flashed through her eyes as she spoke about her husband. The only emotion now was a vague sense of sadness and loss.

"Has he really changed so much?" Bilbo queried softly.

"Yes," Lina whispered. She said nothing more. The sense of sadness grew stronger, nearly overwhelming the hobbit. He had not known dwarves to possess such powerful emotions beyond anger and merriment.

"You still love him?"

Lina looked astounded that Bilbo could even ask such a thing.

"Of course! I could never not love him."

Bilbo smiled gently, more to himself than to her. Perhaps he had a thing or two to learn about love and life from the dwarves after all.


	46. Armor

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

"What do you think of our burglar?" Thorin asked as he settled his large frame on the ground beside her.

Lina looked at him in mild amusement. They had barely spoken all day for one reason or another, yet, since the moment he saw her talking to the hobbit, he had been looking for a way to speak with her.

"I like him," she answered lightly. Her eyes caught the slight tightening of his jaw, the hardening of his gaze, and the sudden control he exerted over his breathing. Those signs had become more familiar of late.

"You're jealous. Why?" Thorin seemed surprised she'd noticed his reaction. Did he really think he was that skilled at masking his emotions? Spending the first twenty years of her life under an abusive father had honed her ability to read emotions. Being married for over a century had made deciphering Thorin's mood and emotions relatively simple. For a moment it seemed as if her husband was going to object. His mouth tightened as he bit back a reply, one Lina had heard many times though he'd gotten better about not using it.

"_So what if I am?" Thorin demanded, his whole body stiffening and straightening subconsciously at the apparent threat to his dominance. _

"_You're honestly jealous of my friendship with Dwalin?" Lina was incredulous. Dwalin had been present at their joining. If her fellow line breaker had any attachment to Lina beyond friendship, he would not have stayed silent then. _

"_You're my wife," he answered evenly. _

"_Your point being?" Lina felt her annoyance with Thorin's irrationality bubbling perilously close to the surface. They'd been married barely five years, and suddenly Lina's closest male friend was a threat to Thorin? All Dwalin had done was physically defend his friend from the unwanted advances of one particularly persistent admirer of Lina's. Someone, and Lina suspected she knew who, had begun spreading around rumors that Dwalin was interested in the prince's wife beyond mere friendship. _

"_You belong to me, not to any other male," Thorin replied. Lina stared at him, shocked at the words coming out of his mouth._

"_I belong to you?" The look in Lina's eyes brought Thorin back from his defiant stance a little bit. He took an involuntary step backward as his wife took a step toward him. Her entire demeanor had changed. No longer did she seem as short as she really was. It seemed as if she towered over him, stifling him with her anger. _

"_I belong to no one," she continued, her voice frighteningly low and even. "I told you years ago that I was tired of being controlled, or having males attempting to control me. That has not changed."_

_Thorin's natural stubbornness overcame his momentary fear of his wife. He raised himself to his fully height, literally towering over Lina and forcing her to look up at him. His whole body had suddenly gone ridged with anger._

"_We were bound five years ago, or have you forgotten that?" he snapped._

"_Being bound does not mean I am your property to do with as you please."_

"_By our law—" _

"_Our marriage law does not apply to me," Lina snarled, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Or have you forgotten what your father did for me? As a head-of-house, I belong to no one, married or no."_

_When Thorin had no reply, Lina stalked out of the room. There was armor to pound back into shape waiting for her in the forge. At least she would be able to work out her anger and frustration. _

Apparently Thorin had remembered that argument as well, for he was careful to avoid saying any of the things he used to say. It had taken him nearly three years to stop considering her as a belonging. As enlightened as he was, thanks mostly to the fact his lady-wife could give him some nasty wounds in a bout, he still possessed some of the more unsavory views of women shared by other males.

Thorin said finally, "I'm jealous of any male who can make you laugh. You seem to laugh around others more than around me."

That stunned Lina. That the simple act of laughing with another male made Thorin jealous was strange to her, but what really shocked her about his admission was how insecure he seemed. After over a century of being together, Thorin had suddenly become very insecure about their relationship. Earlier jealousy had revolved mostly around rumors spread about a love affair between Lina and one dwarf or another. Not all of those rumors had involved males.

"You make me smile and laugh in ways no one else could ever hope to," Lina pointed out gently. Thorin just smiled softly. He said nothing further, and indication he was not interested in discussing the matter any longer.

The female warrior watched quietly as Thorin stripped off his armor, undressing until he wore only his leather trousers and tunic. For the first time, she noticed looks of surprise on the faces of some of the company, Bilbo among them. What was so surprising to them?

Thorin was completely unfazed by the attention the couple was receiving. In fact, he did not appear to even realize they had become an object of interest to the other members of their group. Oin was preparing to put out the evening's fire, slowly breaking it apart and allowing the flames to die. The expressions of interest and surprise vanished into the darkness. Lina would have to ask someone the next morning what had fascinated them so.

As the last light faded from the fire, Thorin slipped into their combined bedrolls. His lips drifted tenderly across her forehead. Lina slid her body close to his, enjoying the closeness she knew would soon be gone. No matter how long Thorin tried to drag out the journey to the Mirkwood path Beorn had mentioned, the journey would end and Lina would leave the company. Then they would be separated until they could be reunited in Erebor. Only the dreams would connect them then. So, for the time being, Lina reveled in her husband's arms holding her close, his scent filling her nose.

"I love you," Thorin murmured in the darkness, his voice thick with sleep.

Within moments, Thorin was asleep, leaving his wife still wide awake. Her head resting on his chest, Lina stared up at the stars. The light from the moon was nearly bright enough to walk by had she so desired. Lina never had been any great astronomer like some of the peoples of Middle-Earth. Few dwarves were due simply to a life below ground. However, she did recognize a few of the constellations. The dwarves, like other peoples, had legends and history behind many of the individual stars and constellations. The great warriors and kings of the past shone above her, some still locked in the deadly struggles which had cost them their lives.

She wondered if any of the dwarves she knew would ever be counted among the stars. Would anyone even remember their names when their children and grandchildren were dead? The question gnawed at Lina. It wasn't that she wanted fame and glory. She had seen what that did to a dwarf's head and personality. No, she only wanted to be remembered, to have mattered. The worst fate, Lina imagined, would be to never have one's name remembered in a future generation. All the struggles to simply survive, the pain and loss, would be for nothing.

In some respects that was what worried Lina the most about this quest. This quest was dangerous. If they succeeded, then their names would be remembered long after their bodies had turned to dust. If they failed, there was little chance the sacrifices they had made, and would make, in the attempt would be remembered.

There would be no children born of Lina and Thorin to carry on their names. Only great deeds would ever keep their memories alive to future generations. For the first time since Thorin had broached the subject, Lina understood why he might want his nephews sent to safety. If they died on this quest, there would be no one left to carry on their line. Dis might have other children, but they would be to carry on the line of her husband, not her brother. Her mind in turmoil, Lina fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning could not come soon enough for Lina. She did not remember her dreams, but a sickening feeling filled her whenever she tried to remember them. Too often, she had woken up and been unable to fall back asleep in a timely manner. She was careful to hide her exhaustion from Thorin. There was no need to compound his worries with her own.

Bilbo, however, noticed almost as soon as they began to move than Lina was withdrawn. The hobbit fell into step beside her, looking inquisitively at her. Lina had to give him that, he was very observant.

"Something's bothering you," he observed.

"There's one thing bothering me, another confusing me," she answered.

"Can I help?"

Lina gave Bilbo a tired smile.

"With the second perhaps."

"How?" Bilbo looked up at her, trying to watch her face and the road at the same time.

"What was so fascinating about Thorin and me last night? Everyone was watching us with absolute surprise on their faces."

"Since we set out from Hobbiton on this venture, Thorin has not removed one piece of armor or clothing to sleep. His armor was as much against any enemy as against us. He was always angry and short-tempered. As I'd mentioned before, until you arrived he never smiled or laughed. To see him take off his emotional armor was surprising enough," Bilbo explained.

"Why would his figurative armor coming off be more surprising than his literal armor?" Lina asked curiously.

"You're his wife," he continued, "If he kept his emotional armor on around you, it'd be a really bad sign. Yet his physical armor is such a part of him that to see it removed was strange. In Beorn's house it seemed normal for him to take it off, but not out here in the open. You make him feel safe."

Lina looked down at Bilbo. She made Thorin feel safe? Events of the past had made her realize that her presence was of great comfort to her husband was he was hurting. She knew that her touch could soothe his worries. Yet she had never thought about Thorin feeling like he always had to be on his guard. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Thorin had only ever removed his armor around her, literally and figuratively.

"Does he disarm around your children?" the hobbit asked.

"We—we don't have any children," Lina replied, her voice dropping with sadness. The hobbit looked at her in surprise. Couples in the Shire, especially those who'd been married for any length of time, had several children.

"Do you not want them?"

"We want them very much," she told him, "But a wound I received many, many years ago has prevented that dream from coming true."

"Oh." The pair fell silent, neither quite sure what to say to the other.

"Can I make a request of you?" Lina asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Anything," Bilbo responded.

"Make sure Thorin's name is not lost in time," Lina requested, "I don't care how. Write it in a book for your own children, but, please, don't let Thorin's name pass from memory."

Bilbo was surprised by the pleading her heard in the fierce warrior's voice. Her eyes were soft and sad. In that moment Lina looked more like a lost child than a fully grown dwarf. Something was deeply troubling her about this quest, beyond simply dying. What that was she did not feel it necessary to share with Bilbo.

"I will make sure he is remembered, Lady Firehammer," Bilbo answered gravely.

"I promise."


	47. Choosing and Hair Claws

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

**A/N: Please check the poll posted at the top of my profile page! It's very important!**

The members of Thorin's Company were in high spirits. A week of making camp early and sleeping late had done wonders for the morale in the group. Even Thorin seemed to be relaxing enough that someone other than his wife could coax a smile to his lips.

Fili was being steered by his slightly put out younger brother. The response to Fili's letter had just arrived and was being devoured as the dwarf was attempting to walk. Kili had his hands full trying to keep his beloved older brother from hurting himself. Lina's young nephew finished the letter and looked around, his expression anxious. A look a relief—that was the only way Lina could describe it—crossed his face when his eyes landed on her. Kili was left to entertain himself as his older brother made his way to his aunt's side.

"What's on your mind, youngling?" Lina asked as he reached her. Fili chewed on the side of his lip for a moment, unsure of the words he was to use. The line breaker waited patiently. Whatever was going through Fili's mind, it was important, and likely involved his attachment to Kitta.

"Do you think Uncle Thorin would be upset if I wished to choose my own bride, not let the councilors choose one for me?"

Lina hid a small smile. Obviously Fili, at least, had been reading the old histories of the kings of the dwarves. Unlike Thorin, neither his father nor his grandfather had married for love. Both males had married females carefully selected by their father and his councilors, intended to produce strong and healthy heir. The marriage of Thrain had at least blossomed into some form of love. From what Lina had read, Thror had not been in love with his wife. In fact, neither had been interested in marriage at all. Their union had been a formality to preserve family lines, nothing more.

"Once we retake Erebor, that will make Thorin king. All of the traditional rules will apply, won't they?" Fili looked worriedly at his aunt.

"It is likely the old traditions will be put back into practice," Lina admitted softly. Fili's shoulders slumped. He said nothing more, simply returning to his brother's side.

"What was that all about?" Thorin asked, approaching his wife.

"I'm not entirely certain, but I have a strong suspicion that Fili is considering Kitta as his wife."

"And?"

"A lot of things will change when you become King-Under-The-Mountain," she answered. "Old traditions will resurface, old ways of ruling. In Belegost it is understood that you are the leader of our people, but the council still rules in the absence of a throne. Rebuilding the kingdom of Erebor comes with expectation that the same society will be rebuilt there as existed before Smaug."

Thorin was silent for a long moment, contemplating what his wife had said. She was right. Even in the smaller, less structured colony of Belegost the dwarves who had not been part of the wanderings had pressed for a more traditional society. The archivists and historians still were adamant in their refusal to list Lina as Thorin's wife. Among the reasons they listed were her lowly status in Erebor prior to the wanderings and Thrain's rejection of the union. The dwarves generally accepted Lina as Thorin's lifemate, but Lina doubted they would ever consider her their Queen in Erebor.

"You doubt her lineage would pass muster before the people?"

Lina laughed, "After putting up with me, I doubt they will have an issue with Kitta. She's socially acceptable as the wife of a prince, born of noble, albeit relatively low, parents. I don't know of a single dwarf with a word to say against her."

Thorin simply smiled, watching his nephew reread the letter from Kitta. His wife gazed up at him for a moment.

"He is afraid you will disapprove of Kitta, or at least allow the council to choose someone else for him."

At this the dwarf looked bewildered. His blue eyes went wide with surprise, an expression even Lina rarely saw.

"Why is he afraid of my disapproval?"

"Why didn't you stop to help me the first time you saw me?" Lina pointed out, "You were afraid of your father's disapproval. Fili has spent more time with you than his own father. He looks up to you and wants nothing more than to impress you."

"You are his uncle, his mentor, and his king. Haven't you noticed how hard he tries to impress you? He has fought for your attention and approval since he was very young," Lina continued.

"So he has," Thorin agreed. His gaze softened as he watched his eldest nephew tenderly slipping the letter from Kitta back into his pack. Without saying another word to his wife, Thorin moved over to join his nephews. Lina hoped he would be a little more patient with Fili on this matter than he had been on others in the past. Kitta was important to Fili. Even Thorin would be able to see that.

Lina found herself being looped into a sudden round of betting between Dwalin and Nori. They, like a number of the Company, had noticed the way Bofur looked at Nes. The subject of this bet was, obviously, Bofur and Nes. The exact terms, as Lina soon discovered, were based on when Bofur would finally make an overt move on Nes. Dwalin wasn't sure Bofur would ever get up the courage to do more than watch Nes and do little favors for her. Nori was betting sometime after Erebor had been retaken. Lina threw in her lot, betting on the reunion of the two companies outside Erebor.

As the Company made camp, Nori tried to get the others to join in the wager. Even Bilbo seemed to be getting into the spirit of the Company. His bet had Bofur making a move on Nes the day the two females left the Company to go their own way.

The dwarves began to settle in around the evening's fire. Bofur and Bombur, as usual, were at the cooking pot. Bombur appeared to be eating more than he was putting into the pot. More than one Lina caught sight of Bofur giving his brother a sharp rap across the knuckles with his spoon, trying to protect at least some of the meal for the rest of them.

Lina glanced about her. Thorin was still in deep conversation with Fili. Kili had, at his uncle's behest, gone off to chat with Bilbo. Nes, however, was sitting by herself, out of Bofur's direct line of sight.

"What're you doing?" Lina asked, settling down beside Nes. The assassin was surrounded by wood shavings and discarded pieces of wood all carved in the vague likeness of a hair claw.

"My hair claw broke when we fled the goblin tunnels," Nes answered slowly. Her attention was focused on a tiny piece of wood at the apex of the space between the two tines of the claw. If she

could just get that piece off, the rough claw would be finished, at least as far as completing its purpose. Instead her knife twisted wrong, snapping the claw in half. With a growl she tossed the broken pieces aside. Her smallest knife was too big to carve the piece without breaking it.

Nes slouched against the boulder behind her, her arms folded over her chest and her face dark. Her companion watched her with interest. The assassin rarely showed much emotion. Certainly she'd never shown this sort of behavior before.

"What's troubling you, Nes?"

"Our company hasn't been heard from since they left us to go north," she replied. Lina saw the concern in her eyes. Kes was the only being in the world Nes truly cared for. She was loyal to Lina, even friendly on occasion. Her brother, however, had been her only companion for so long. The concern was for his safety, not necessarily that of the rest of the company.

"If something had happened to the company, to Kes, would you know?" Lina cocked her head, interested in the answer she might receive.

"If he had died, I would know," Nes answered firmly. "When he is dealt near fatal blows, I can feel those. I can't imagine I would not feel his death if it came to that."

For a moment, the pair sat in silence, pondering the fate of their company. Lina had instructed her animal handler to send word if they ran into trouble on the way, as well as when they reached the fortress. She supposed it was possible they had sent a bird, but the bird had become lost and confused while Lina and Nes had been in Goblin Town.

"When Fili sends his reply to Kitta, I'll have him ask her if any birds showed up there. It is possible that the bird may have returned to Belegost," Lina told her companion.

Nes shrugged noncommittally. Her mind was still far away, wherever her brother was. Her gaze wandered over the pile of wood scraps surrounding her. With a sweep of her hand, Nes scooped up most of the pieces and cast them into the fire. Lina watched silently as the assassin stalked off into the growing darkness. Nes might return at some point during the night.

The next morning, as the dwarves were gathering their belongings for the day's journey, Lina gave Fili the note she had written to Kitta. Hopefully the younger female would have at least heard something about Lina's company. If the parting of the ways weren't only a few more days away, Lina doubted Nes would still be with Thorin's Company. The assassin was becoming more anxious by the day.

"Lina?" Nes appeared before her commander, a look of absolute confusion on her face. In her hands were three hair claws, each slightly different from the other. All were of the same wood, but the carvings were what differentiated one from the next. The carvings were based on the tattoos adorning the assassin's body.

"Where did you get those?"

"They were lying on my pack after breakfast," Nes answered. She turned one of them over in her hand.

Lina glanced around at the dwarves as they were pulling on their packs. Her eyes lighted upon Bofur at the same time Nes's did. The toymaker was being lifted onto his larger brother's back, sound asleep. There were a number of small bandages on his fingers and palms. Concern shone on Bombur's red face as he draped his brother across his back and lifted their packs.

The two females shared a look. Nes looked down at the beautifully carved hair claws in her hand, then up at an unconscious Bofur. A small sigh escaped her lips as she used one to hold her hair in place. The other two were tucked into the pouch at her waist.

As the group began to move out, Lina made a quick count of her companions. A tiny smirk made its way onto her face. Nes had taken up a protective position, guarding Bombur and his sleeping burden. It seemed the assassin was softening.

**A/N: So sorry for the long wait guys! I haven't forgotten about this story, but life has blown up on me a bit. I am trying to figure out exactly which plot I want to pursue with this story. Please vote in the poll I've posted. If you have strong feeling one way or another I would love to hear them. It'll help me decide which way to continue the story. Thanks ever so much!**


	48. A Spark of Hope

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

**A/N: Please check the poll posted at the top of my profile page! It's very important! Please let me know your reasoning if you can. I'm interested to know why people are voting the way they are.**

The dwarves had spread out in a rough circle. Some were laying out packs and bedrolls. Others were scrounging for firewood. Bombur was already pulling food and cooking utensils from his pack, eagerly anticipating his evening meal. Gloin was in conference with his brother about how best to lay out this evening's fire.

Lina had just finished conferencing with her husband regarding the reunification of his company and hers to the east of Mirkwood. Both knew they would soon be parting ways. The edge of the dark forest was only a day to two further on. Once they reached it, Lina and Nes had to find their own company. According to Kitta, there was no word from the rest of Lina's missing company. Nor had any messages arrived from Kira's fortress. The situation bothered Lina as much as it bothered Nes. Kes's silence was concerning to Nes as he was her brother, but Kira was Lina's closest friend. If something had gone wrong, Kira would have sent word. She knew Lina's company was to arrive at the fortress.

A hand gently patted her shoulder. Looking up, Lina caught a glimpse of a friendly and tired smile from Bilbo as he passed. He dropped his load of firewood off beside Oin and Gloin. Before either could enter into a conversation, Nes claimed Lina's attention. By the time Lina next looked up, Bilbo was in deep conversation with Gandalf. Both looked quite serious, but Gandalf had a slightly conspiratorial twinkle in his eye that made Lina slightly uneasy. She wondered in whose life the wizard was planning to intervene. Hoping to take her mind off the wizard's scheming, Lina set to work repairing the scales on Thorin's armor.

Bilbo glanced across the fire at Lina as she spoke with her companion. He could not shake the sadness he had felt as Lina spoke about her lack of children. That sadness, compounded with her request to make sure her husband's name lived on, determined the hobbit to help her in any way he could.

"What's on your mind, Bilbo Baggins?" Gandalf asked, drawing lazily on his long pipe. The hobbit's recent fascination with the wife of Thorin Oakenshield did not escape the wizard's notice. A friendship of sorts appeared to be forming between Lina and Bilbo if Gandalf was not mistaken. And a wizard was rarely mistaken.

"How long have you known Lina and Thorin?"

Gandalf supposed it was a fair question. After all, he had pushed Bilbo out of his hobbit-hole on this mad venture. Bilbo knew these dwarves even less than Gandalf did.

"Truthfully, I have only know the pair personally for a little over a year," the wizard admitted. "However, many stories of the pair had reached me before we finally met. All of the wizards know how Smaug cast the dwarves out of Erebor. We remember the Line of Durin, and Thorin is now at its head. I was aware of Thror's death, and did not, until later, know what had become of Thrain. As for Lina, stories of her flaming hammer in the Battle of Azanulbizar have reached even my aged ears."

"What are your opinions of them?"

Now Gandalf was curious. Bilbo seemed to be leading somewhere with his questions, but where that was, Gandalf did not know. Thorin had, during the earliest part of the journey, intimidated the hobbit. Yet Lina had befriended the burglar quickly.

"Thorin is a decent enough fellow, I suppose," the wizard answered, pulling thoughtfully on his beard. "Quite stubborn and proud, however, and that will land him in hot water if he is very careful to control it. Lina seems to be of a different sort. She's still stubborn in her own way, but she is certainly better at keeping her dwarven pride in check than her husband."

"But do you like them?" Bilbo persisted.

"Of course I like them. Lina rather more than her husband, however. She is a good bit more rational." Gandalf muttered the last sentence, more to himself than to Bilbo.

"Would you help me?"

"With what, my dear burglar?" Gandalf rested his pipe on his knee and gazed intently at his companion.

"I want to help Lina," the hobbit answered without hesitation.

The answer surprised Gandalf. Uncertain as to what his companion meant by "help," he remained silent, waiting for an explanation.

"Is there any way to make it so she can have children?" Bilbo asked softly, turning to face the wizard. His gaze rested steadily on Gandalf.

Now they had come to the core of the matter. Bilbo had been affected by the melancholy Lina seemed to exude whenever she spoke of her desire for children. The wizard found the hobbit's reaction to the dwarf's sadness strange. Though hobbits were remarkably sensitive to those around them, Bilbo seemed to be hypersensitive to Lina in particular.

"What has changed you so, Bilbo Baggins?" The Bilbo Baggins Gandalf had known many years earlier had been a bright and adventurous child. That child had been nowhere in the hobbit during the earliest days of the adventure. Nor had this more sensitive hobbit existed, at least as far as Gandalf was aware.

"I know what it is to want children, but never be able to have them," Bilbo answered softly. His eyes dropped to stare intently at his trembling hands. The wizard waited, but Bilbo did not seem interested in sharing his story just yet.

The silence stretched out between them as Gandalf considered the options open to them. In her present condition, it would be impossible for Lina to bear children. His powers would only work if her body was in perfect condition and the issue was a simple inability to conceive. However, the wizard was well aware of Lina's injury in the Battle of Azanulbizar. The lack of a son from Thorin was a topic of concern for many of the dwarves Gandalf had met in his travels. The line of succession had long been established, but having the throne pass from one part of the line to another was often messy and uncomfortable for everyone involved. If Thorin could have a child, even a daughter, it was possible for an heir to come through the child. With the dwarven society already on the verge of collapsing, any child would bring hope to those remaining.

A small flame of hope grew within the old wizard. Perhaps he had a way to help Lina after all.

"I have a plan, Bilbo," Gandalf announced slowly. "But it will be prone to failure if things do not work out just right. First I must secure your promise: do not tell Lina about any of this. I do not want to raise her hopes only to see them dashed."

The hobbit nodded eagerly. His gaze darted over to Lina as she sat alone in thought. He was willing to do whatever was necessary to make his new friend happy.


	49. In Private

**Date: TA 2941**

**Thorin: 195 years old**

**Lina: 192 years old**

"How far will the wizard accompany us?" Nes asked. The sharp grate of metal against stone punctuated her question as the whetstone slid along the edge of her blade. Slowly, precisely, the assassin honed her already lethal blade.

If Lina did not know her better, she would think the other female was perfectly calm. The action of sharpening her blades was something Nes did on relatively few occasions, at least in the presence of others. Among company, the assassin used the task to both intimidate those around her and to steady her own nerves. The silence from Lina's band and from Kira was wearing on Nes's resolve.

"Only until we reach the foothills," Lina answered. Repacking her own bags occupied her hands as she considered the coming journey. At dawn, the two companies would part ways. Lina and Nes would accompany Gandalf to the foothills of the Misty Mountains. Thorin and his companions would brave the shadows of Mirkwood.

Over the course of the day, the jovial attitude that once filled the group dissipated. Fili was the first to catch a glimpse of Mirkwood's dark trees about midday. The dwarves reached the forest's edge before the sun went down and laid out camp earlier than usual. None of them wished to enter the forbidding depths any sooner than necessary. Neither, for that matter, did they wish to part company with their friends or wizard.

"Speaking of Gandalf, where is he?" Lina looked quizzically around the camp. The line breaker had neither seen nor spoken to the wizard since the previous day. Her mind briefly flashed to the serious conversation she'd witnessed between Gandalf and Bilbo. Yet her mind could supply no subject so serious that it would warrant the wizard vanishing so suddenly.

Nes shrugged noncommittally in response. Something about her lack of answer bothered Lina. Her assassin always knew where every member of the group was. She was the first to know which direction Gandalf had gone when he'd left Beorn's house. It was impossible for her to not know something of the wizard's whereabouts. However, Lina did not get the chance to confirm her suspicions. Bofur claimed Nes's attention with an exuberant hand gesture. With a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, the other female answered by getting up to join him.

Darkness had just fallen around the company when the wizard appeared suddenly in the circle of light from the fire. His hand landed on Lina's shoulder and steered her away from the band and into the darkness. The dwarf said nothing, but allowed the wizard to lead her.

"You seem to have caught the attention of the Valar in a way not many do, whether they be Dwarves, Men, or Elves," Gandalf informed her once the sounds of the rest of the company had faded somewhat.

"What do you mean?" Lina's curiosity was piqued. The Valar tended to favor the Elves, the Firstborn. Men had also received their favors, but the Dwarves were the adopted children. Rarely did the Valar seem to notice the Dwarves. Aulë did, of course. The Dwarves were his children. The rest of the Valar focused more on the concerns of the other races.

"It is a gift from the Valar that allows you such a powerful connection to Thorin," Gandalf pointed out. "However, they have a special interest in you it would seem. They have given me leave to present to you a gift: the possibility of children."

"What?" The line breaker stared in stunned silence at the wizard.

"It is not a guarantee, mind you," Gandalf added hastily. "Merely the possibility."

From within the folds of his robes, he drew forth a small stone talisman. With fingers surprisingly deft for one so aged, the talisman disappeared into the long braid trailing down Lina's back. The stone was so tiny that it was unnoticeable in the heavy weight of her hair.

"I believe now would be an excellent time to rejoin the others," Gandalf informed her. He held up a hand to still her questions.

"There will be time for questions later, but we only have a short time left with Thorin and his company. I suggest we make the most of it."

Lina could not argue. She was not looking forward to leaving her husband the next morning.

All the dwarves ate in heavy silence. For most, the parting at the edge of Mirkwood meant the loss of the wizard's protection. Some, like Lina and Thorin had greater partings to mourn. With the journey having proved far more perilous than anticipated, neither felt wholly comfortable letting their spouse out of sight.

The dark dreams continued to haunt her throughout the trek from Beorn's house to the edge of Mirkwood. They came the same every night, but always with slightly different variations. As Thorin was not directly involved, the dreams were very vague. Sometimes it was as if she could see the future. At other times, they seemed to be the imaginings of a worried wife. Though she dismissed them as nonsense, they worried her.

"I regret that I shall be leaving you as soon as the sun rises," Gandalf announced, breaking the silence. The dwarves offered only token protests. They learned many days earlier that nothing they could say or do would change the wizard's mind. He would leave them whether they willed it or not.

"As are we," Lina added. The dwarves understood, even if they did not like losing the two warriors. They needed the army Lina promised if they were to retake Erebor. Fili seemed the most disturbed to realize his aunt was leaving them.

As the dwarves prepare to settle down for the night, the younger dwarf approached Lina. His eyes shifted restlessly about the camp. Something was setting him on edge.

"Aunt, may I speak with you?" he requested. "Privately."

"Of course." She followed Fili a short distance from the others.

"What's troubling you, young one?" Her grey eyes searched his face, hoping to divine something more from his appearance. The seriousness in his eyes was far different from anything she'd seen in him before. It was reminiscent of Thorin's manner during the War of Orcs and Dwarves. His concerns had nothing to do with Kita, but something far more worrying.

"Don't leave. Just send Nes to Kira. Please." Fili looked in earnest at his aunt.

"Kira won't come without my summons. We don't even know what has become of her or our missing companions. I must go," Lina answered. The young dwarf's face fell.

"I don't understand. What is wrong?"

"It's Thorin," he blurted. That startled Lina. What had Fili seen that she had not?

"Explain."

"It started when we were still in Belegost. I saw it in his eyes when we brought the gold back from our fight. Something inside him came to life, something horrible. He buried it quickly, but since he began planning this quest, it has reappeared. Whatever it is, it makes him angrier than he normally would be. When it takes hold, he is difficult to speak to. His whole manner changes," Fili explained. "I saw some of it in his eyes when he attacked Bolg."

Lina sat in stunned silence, trying to sort through her memories. Her thoughts kept darted back to her nephew's mention of gold. A horrible thought occurred to her. Perhaps Thorin, like his grandfather had the gold sickness.

"He's probably just stressed by the quest," she told her nephew. "Keep an eye on him."

"I wish you would, Lina. He's better when you are here." With that Fili rose and rejoined the others.

The line breaker chewed on her lower lip as she watched Thorin. Her nephew's observations combined with her own presented a worrying picture. Perhaps that was the darkness she dreamed of, Thorin's gold sickness.

"You look worried, love," Thorin commented, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Just thinking," she told him, accepting the kiss he offered. It was difficult to imagine her husband, as strong and stubborn as he was, falling victim to the same illness as his grandfather. It was especially hard as his lips fell on her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

"How about thinking about something else for a while?" he murmured. "Privately."

Lina smirked as her body responded to his touch.

"Lead on."

Thorin draped his cloak over their cooling bodies before tightening his arms protectively around his wife. Her fingers stroked the coarse black hair on his chest, a motion serving to soothe them both. Neither wanted to think about how long it would be before they were one more in the other's arms. They weren't even sure under what circumstances they would meet again.

"I love you, Lina," he whispered. His fingers tangled around her thick braid, drawing her closer.

"I love you, Thorin."

**A/N: I've received quite a few messages regarding the story. I have not forgotten about it. I simply struggled writing this chapter in addition to battling personal problems. Hopefully the next few chapters will come at a little quicker pace. We shall see.**


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