A/N: Hiya Sparklies, welcome to "Sound as Stone". This is my first Hobbit fic and the first few chapters are a bit short. It's get's longer as the story goes on, I promise! So this will be a KílixOC with side pairings of Bagginshield and IronQuill (DwalinxOri). Please tell me if you see any mistakes I missed! Also I love reviews, and any suggestions you want to give me! I'll be posting Friday every two weeks. Also a note that this fic is inspired by the Heartsong tales by Littleblackdog. I start with T but it may get to M eventually, we'll see. I didn't intend for this to be a very angsty story so expect fun and fluff. I really wanted to play with a female dwarf and this happened. I even have an outline for it! I'm not sure how long this will end up being, probably only like 15-20 chapters, but these things seem to run away from me so nothing is concrete yet.

Warnings: Contains violence, some medical gore stuff, and mentions of M/M relationships.

Parings: KilixOC, ThorinxBilbo, DwalinxOri

Summary: After the Battle of the Five Armies, the dwarves have to rebuild Erebor. This story centers around a healer named Dwin and her adventure with the company as they bring glory back to their home. After healing a prince and a burglar she stays to make sure they don't mess up the work she's put into them. Dwin is a young healer from the Iron Hills. Her and her teacher are healers for the Battle of the Five armies. Dwin quickly get's sucked into the shenanigans of the Company and the rebuilding of Erebor. And after healing a prince, he doesn't seem to want to leave her be. Despite all the mischief and mishaps, will a heartsong or two be found?

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Dwin and her family, even that is questionable at times. X3

7/26/16: I edited a few mistakes, some content (nothing major), and britpicked a bit more.

Chapter 1:Sometimes mental injuries hurt the worst.

Dwin had come to Erebor with the Iron Hill's army as a healer. Her and her teacher were the only females in the group and they were protected fiercely because of it. Dwarven culture held fast to their females, being so rare. Only one-third of their rather small population were females, so being a female meant many dwarves we keep a careful eye on you to make sure no danger came. Part of the reason the dwarven population was so small was because in dwarven culture you only were involved with your heartsong, so if little ones every came it was after you found your One. This was the reason most dwarves dedicated themselves to a craft, not willing to wait until their One dropped into their lives. For Dwin that craft was healing.

Once a dwarf reached 40 they would have a dream, that dream would contain the voice of their One. It was a sound that no dwarf forgot and everyone waited for the day they'd find their heart. But it didn't always happen, sometimes you would never find your heart song. Then sometimes it'd go quiet. The worst one of all. That meant their heartsong was no longer with them, one of the worst things that could befall a dwarf.

So many of the male dwarves could be annoying protective of Dwin and her teacher, Surir, because the females in dwarven culture were something to be protected and cherished. This was a fight Dwin and Surir had been having with the dwarves since they had begun their trek to the Lonely Mountain, unfortunately they didn't win those fights often- well Dwin didn't win those fights often, no one dared to tell Surir what to do. So on their journey to the Lonely Mountain, Dwin and Surir were in bulky armour that hid their more female attributes and in a village of men they could pass easily as their male counterparts. Dwin thought it rather ridiculous that many couldn't tell the difference between the genders. Even though her auburn sideburns were rather impressive, they looked nothing like the massive beards some of the soldiers were sporting. Of course she still had time to grow a bit more hair.

Dwin was 75 and just out of her apprentice age. She had plenty of time to grow some more facial hair and complete her training to become a Master Healer. She honestly only gotten to come with the army because Lord Dain wanted her teacher's experience. Surir was a little older than Dain and had been in all the wars with her Lord, because once Surir set her mind to something nothing could stop her.

They now were camped just outside the Lonely Mountain and were getting ready to fight a war. Orcs and Goblins were riding towards them. Dwin, being so young, had never experienced war before and wasn't looking forward to it. Though as a healer, and a young lass, Lord Dain had all but forbade her to actually fight. Dwin had disagreed but eventually realised the wisdom in his command, she'll be needed to help in other ways.

She had few friends come on the trek to Erebor so she held fast to the few that did come, like Thorin Stonehelm. Thorin was Lord Dain's son and they were friends from childhood. Dwin called him Mazrlafm, the Khuzdul word for drum as according to his loud voice that seemed to be ever booming. And as much as she liked her friend, sometimes she wondered why she had not killed him during their childhood, her life would have been easier for it. This current moment was an example of that. Her dear friend had decided to try to help make her more useful after a bout of her complaining of not being able to fight, and told his father that it be good to send a healer after Master Baggins to make sure he was getting well. Because even if Dain couldn't outwardly go against his cousin the King, her lord felt bad at the treatment of the halfling. As no one paid attention to an apprentice healer, it made sense to send her. She was easily able to slip in and out of camp to treat the halfling.

So now with an accompaniment of two guards sworn to silence- because they weren't letting Dwin near elves without guards- Dwin marched into the camp of the men and elves to find her patient. After asking a man the directions to the tent she found it guarded by an elf. She sighed heavily and walked towards the guard. She hated talking to elves.

"Halt. What is your business here, dwarf?" The single guard stopped her and her guards as they approached the entrance to the tent.

"I'm Healer Dwin, from the Iron Hills. I'm here to see after Master Baggins."

"Master Baggins has been attended to by our own healers. You may return to your encampment." The elf leveled her a blank, blue stare. Dwin glared at him and felt her anger rising. How dare this elf refuse her a patient. Her guards were clutching their hilts, ready to brawl. It took all Dwin's willpower to try and be (somewhat) polite.

"I've been requested by my lord to see a patient, and by Mahal's hammer, I will see him."

"As I have said-" The elf's bored response was cut off by a figure coming out of the tent. The guard stood at attention, "Master Wizard."

Dwin turned to look at the wizard. A very tall being dressed in all grey. She'd heard rumours that Gandalf the Grey was fighting with them but she hadn't thought it was true. She bowed her head to him.

"Master Wizard." She greeted her head still bowed until she finished speaking.

"What's going on here, then?" The Wizard's tone was deceptively jovial.

"A party from the dwarvish encampment. To which they were preparing to return." Dwin raised her eyebrows at the elf. They'll see if he could move them. Hmph. Leaving indeed. She'd like to see him try.

"Unless my ears are failing me, I heard something about healers." Gandalf turned his attention to Dwin. She stood tall under his searching gaze and brown eyes met shocking blue. His look had nothing on her ma's, she swore the dwarvendam could see everything you were hiding in the first few seconds of looking at you. Though, now she thought about it, maybe a wizard's gaze was a bit more dangerous, what if he could see right through her? She blinked and remembered to answer his query.

"Yes, Master Wizard, I'm healer Dwin, from the Iron Hills. I was sent to look after Master Baggins." The wizard studied her a moment longer- amusement causing a twinkle in his eyes and Dwin had the sinking feeling he could read her thoughts- apparently satisfied with whatever he was searching for, motioned for her to come inside. Dwin left her guards outside and followed, though she heard the wizard muttering about the stubbornness of dwarves. A corner of her mouth lifted in amusement.

"Bilbo, it seems you have a guest." Dwin studied the tent. It was spacious but had little more than the cot and a desk full of healing supplies. On the cot was a small creature with curly brown hair and pointed ears. This was the first time Dwin had seen a hobbit so she spent a minute studying him. He had hazel eyes and looked only to be a bit shorter than her. He lacked the bulk of dwarves and was rather slender. She noted his sallow complexion and bags around his eyes.

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm sure." He greeted her. She bowed to him in greeting.

"Master Baggins, I'm healer Dwin, at your service. Lord Dain sent me to see after your health." Dwin swore his eyes got darker when she spoke. She felt sympathy for the poor thing, Dwin felt it rather unfair what happened. But it wasn't her place to judge, only to heal, if she could that was.

"That's certainly nice of him. I'm fine though, really." He tried to smile at her, but the result was more of a grimace.

"Nonsense, Master Baggins, you are fine when I say you're fine." She put her hand on her hips fully into her healer-mode, "Now I'm going to do some routine checks on your health and we'll go from there." She turned to the wizard sitting smoking in the corner, she hadn't realised their was a chair there, he looked amused, "And you Master Wizard, you may stay as long as Master Baggins is comfortable with it."

"Please, I'd rather Gandalf be here." Master Baggins said. Dwin softened, he sounded quite pitiful. She turned back around, unfortunately that was the moment when her cursed clumsiness kicked in and she stumbled, almost falling. She glared at the ground and tried to fight the rising heat as she straightened herself. Master Baggins had a slight smile. Dwin smiled ruefully, at least someone got benefit from her clumsiness.

"I swear, unless my feet are on solid stone I'm better off crawling." Dwin chuckled and started the routine checks. Physically, he was fine besides being weak. Mentally, well, that was another thing. She was worried. After prescribing rest and good food, because really she doubted the elves had been giving him real food, she left. Dwin walked slowly back to camp, thinking about how she could help the poor hobbit.

Later that day Dwin was pacing in the tent where her teacher was doing work. Waiting for her to get done with some paperwork. It wasn't unusual for Dwin to go to her when something was bothering her. Surir was like a family member to Dwin and they shared a close bond that surpassed a simple teacher-pupil relationship.

"Lass, if ya pace one more time, so help me I'll tie ya down." Came the gruff voice from a plain desk in a corner of the cot.

"Sorry, Suri." Dwin pouted and sat down on the cot, tapping her foot.

"Oh, for Mahal's sake, what's wrong?" Surir snapped. Dwin wasn't sure how she knew that Dwin was moving. Then again, Surir seemed to have eyes on the back of her head. She always just knew, Dwin still thought it uncanny. It used to be the bane of her existence, as Surir always knew when Dwin tried to prank her.

"The hobbit. He worries me." Dwin admitted.

"What worries you about him?" Surir asked without looking up from the paper she was writing on. She always did that, she made Dwin think for herself before giving any advice. It's part of what made Surir one of the best-and one of the most bothersome.

"Physically I can help without much of a problem. He needs food and rest to gain back his strength. But as a healer I can't just ignore his emotional needs as well. But how? How can I fix what I don't understand?" Dwin was back to pacing as she was talking, using her hands to convey her distress. Surir turned to look at her pupil.

Surir had light brown eyes and dark brown hair with sparkling silver highlights, she looked well for being older. Dwin hoped to be as good-looking as Surir when she was in her 180s. Surir's beard was well groomed and almost entirely grey, golden beads braided into it. A hint of her eagle tattoo peaked out from her collar, she had told Dwin that it was dedicated to the death of Surir's brother. Surir was what Dwin always wanted grow up to be, a strong dwarvendam who never put up with anything. Surir did what she pleased and almost never accommodated for anyone, she was fond of saying, 'It's better to apologize than ask for permission'. Dwin only hoped one day she could have the respect that everyone showed her teacher.

"Dwin, you can't always fix everything. You know that." Surir spoke softly, her low voice soothing.

"I know, I do. But I can't just not try!" Dwin hit her hand against her leg in emphasis.

"And how do you propose to do that?" Surir raised her eyebrows at Dwin. Dwin knew she was being a little more emotional than usual, but the hobbit had seemed so broken.

"I don't know." Dwin sighed and sat down on the cot again.

"Then just listen. I can't tell you how many people just need someone to listen, to understand, and accept. We're healers, it's our job to be there for every need of our patient that we can. But never to-"

"Judge." Dwin finished. She'd heard this speech quite a few times. A healer sometimes just had to listen to find answers, but listening and make a decision based on that is different than judging. Dwin nodded in her agree with Surir. She was quiet for a few moments before glancing around, her brow wrinkled in confusion, she didn't remember Suri bringing a tent this big. "Suri, whose tent is this?"

Surir just turned back to Dwin and started writing again.

"Lord Dain's." Dwin widened her eyes, did her teacher steal Lord Dain's tent?

"And he's fine with you being in here?" Dwin asked cautiously.

"I didn't ask." Surir shrugged. Dwin groaned, she should have know. She doubted Dain would honestly be mad but he may try to fight about it with Surir anyway, as they seemed to enjoy arguing with each other. Dwin decided to leave, Surir could do as she will but Dwin didn't need loud arguing bothering her brainstorm. That and she had a hobbit to worry about.