AN: Thank you once again for the favs/follows/feedback. Much is greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy this chapter. As I work on the healing, you will have to suffer with me. lol

I think the chapter title suits this chapter and I think a tiny bit into Wren's past as to why she is so undetermined to do this. Her full past will be exposed later.

Feedback is always appreciated and welcomed. Flames are not tolerated. Stay tuned for more.

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Chapter Two: Everyone Deserves A Second Chance

Wren tilted her head to the side and looked up at the wizard. If not her who would fill her with guilt, the old man surely would. Those words were enough to sting a hole in her heart. "My refusal would make his death my fault because I wouldn't heal him." She said, quickly catching on to his games. "You know I couldn't bare to live with that fact alone. He is that important to you that he must live?"

"Yes. " He was firm with his words, knowingly he could get her to do as he wished. Even without the debt that hung over her head, a dying man she could not resist. "This mountain needs their King, Wren."

She pulled herself away from the door, dropping her hands to her side the energy imprint from what she gathered from the other side of the door turned her palms red. She turned from him and paced what little room she had from the wall and Gandalf.

'There was no turning back now.' She thought to herself. As much as she hated the fact that she would have to do everything in her power to save this person, there were others who needed him and she couldn't let them down. "You are clever, Mr. Gandalf." She said, stopping in her step. "You would risk ones life to save another. I hope..." She sighed softly. "I hope you're right and he's worth it."

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Wren. Isn't that what you have said in the past?" Gandalf told her, leaning his staff against the wall and walked over to her. "I would never put you in danger. I know you are stronger than you give yourself."

Wren shook her head. "I use to think so too. But not anymore." She sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "After this I'm done, you will not call upon me no more. My debt to you is paid in full."

There was a crack in the wall as the memories tried to push their way through once more. Flashbacks invaded her much to her dismay.

'What are you? Who are you?' His voice plowed into her. 'You're...you're...'

Wren bit the bottom of her lip hard enough to draw a small line of blood. The taste of copper and crimson filled her mouth, watering and turning her stomach inside out.

No! She protested to herself, fighting back the unwanted memories. Never again!

She closed her eyes for a moment, pushing herself to block out the voices in her head. She won't let it be, not this time. Her weakness to why she quit, no more would she risk everything...her body and soul...it will not break her down.

She build the walls around her, holding her own emotions and problems at bay. If she was to exceed, she had to shut herself down, keep the wounds from piling out before her and causing destruction. She was here for one purpose only...Save the king.

Wren opened her eyes and looked at Gandalf. "Take me to him."

The sound of the door opening echoed loudly as Gandalf led her into the room. There was an eerie still in the air surrounding them. Silence filled the room. It was poorly lit but it wasn't hard to see that the king wasn't alone.

Wren slowly made her way to his bedside. A rush of sorrow and despair coursed through her body, waves of emotions coming from the others, her breath escapes her. Eyes were upon her watching her every move and if it wasn't for Gandalf being there with her, she would turn and leave. Her unwelcome presence was enough to shed some hostility.

"Gandalf..." The voice was chilling, thundering as he spoke and came forward. "Who is this?" He was ready to draw arms, a threat to only cause more harm to his beloved king. As long as he stood there, he would protect Thorin.

"You did not warn them I was coming did you?" Wren wanted to know. "Must you leave all the dirty work for me?"

"Don't fret, Master Dwalin won't harm you." Gandalf reassured her but it did very little to ease her concerns.

"This is Wren, the healer I sent forth. She is the only being I know that can fix Thorin." Gandalf spoke up to the dwarves that stood close by. "She is not here to harm him but to heal him. Her abilities are far more advanced than what I can do. It was my request to bring her here." He squinted his eyes in the darkness, faintly making out the shape of the great warrior. "Is there a problem you wish to address? If not, than we will let her do what she came here to do. She will save your king."

Wren wished he hadn't said that. There was no way of knowing whether or not she was able to save him. She may be too late or his life threatening wounds could be so severe that not even her healing touch could fix them. She wouldn't know until she had a chance to look at the damage.

...

Wren stood over the fallen king. His breathing was barely there, if she didn't see his chest rising and falling she would have thought it was too late. His wounds were bandaged with red circles in the middle of them. If he loses anymore blood, there would be no way he would survive this. His skin was drained of color and warm to her touch. He was damped with sweat as the fever started to set in. There was a slight tremor in his body.

"How long has he had this fever?" She asked no one in particular but hoped at least one person in the room knew the answer.

"It just now started. Hes been mumbling he's cold." The hobbit said as he stood by Thorin's bed. "I try to cover him but it does not seem to work."

Wren met the eyes of the hobbit, such sadness held deeply into their color. "I will do my best to save your friend but there is no promise that I can keep. His condition is far worse than I imagined. He lost blood I can not return." She returned with honesty. The truth always hurt the most, even for her. "But there is always hope and with hope there is a way."

Wren slowly and tries her best to be careful as she cuts the bandages and removes them. The exposure of the wounds will give her an idea on just how bad he really was. The four holes from the arrows were not life threatening, much needed rest and care would heal them and Erebor would have their king. But sadly, that was not the case. The gash that was placed upon his chest was deep, flesh was torn and jagged. Blood was trickling down his side. She had not seen one this bad in such a long time, if she could not heal this wound it would be the cause of his death in just a matter of hours. It was disheartening knowing his life was in her hands now. The worse part about what she could do.

She reached for the cloth in the water and began to wipe away the blood from his chest. The energy surged at the tips of her fingers itching to be placed on him.

"Not yet." She muttered to herself, placing the rag back into the bowl of water.

"Who...who are you?" His voice was harsh and shaky, his eyes were open as he stared at her. "Am I dead?" Of course he is, there wouldn't be someone as beautiful as she was standing over him if he wasn't. A heavy fog hung over his head, things were blurry, buzzing sounds rang in his ears, his body was numb to the core. He couldn't move if he tried.

But that didn't stop him from seeing the mysterious woman at his bed side. Her hair was pinned back from her face, only a small amount fell in front of her bright blue eyes. There was a light shimmer surrounding her that flickered in the candlelight, or so he thought he could see. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. This was truly the end and this was what happens...someone who did not exist, only found in his imagination came to take him away. She would take his soul to the undying lands and maybe he would be in peace.

Wren glanced up, dark eyes stared back at her and all she could do was smile. The delusion of death making its call.

Her hand was cool against his cheek. "This is not your end." She told him, her words were humming. A sweet, heavenly voice.

"But it must be... if you graced your presence to me."

"Trust me milord, I am very much real to you."

He sucked in a deep breath. "Impossible. You are too delicate to be here."

"You must save what strength you have." She said softly, looking away from him. Her skin shivered when his hand faintly grabbed at hers.

"Who..." He muttered, struggling to get the rest of his words out, only to succumb to the darkness.

Wren covered his hand with her own and gently placed it down beside him. She pulled back the heavy quilt to just below his waste, exposing bruises he endured during battle. How one managed to survive such a dangerous situation, she couldn't imagine. She wondered though if the price he paid, the fight to the death. Losing those that mattered...if it was worth it.