Greetings readers, old and new! :)

This is another Thorin/OC story I've had on my mind for some time now and just finally decided to start writing it! I'm hoping this one will do as well as my other stories, but we'll see!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my OC.

Enjoy!

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Along the beautiful Greenway of Middle-Earth, the sun could be seen setting down behind the distant Blue Mountains. On this path rode a woman, clothed in travel garb and a cloak, on her journey home. She at least knew she felt comfortable in the Blue Mountains, but she was never sure if she could call it "home". True, she had lived there her whole life, but she never had never quite felt like she belonged. Too many things had happened there than she cared to remember. Still, that was her final destination at the end of the road.

As she and her pony continued to ride along, she could suddenly hear grunts and the sounds of a scuffle up ahead. Someone was in trouble. Quickly, she dismounted her pony, told it to stay and then quietly ran up ahead. When she spotted movement around a corner, she ducked behind a bush and observed what was going on.

There was a group of about five Orcs looming over an elderly man who had fallen to the ground, most likely at the hands of the creatures. He was clad in grey robes and his long hair and beard were of the same color. Right behind him was a big, wide-brimmed, pointed grey hat and a few feet away from him laid a long, wooden walking stick of some sort. The Orcs were drawing closer to him, some of them with their weapons drawn.

"I have to help him," the woman thought. She jumped out from behind the bush and yelled out, "Hey, over here!"

All of the Orcs and the old man all turned their heads in her direction. Her face was concealed by the shadow from the hood she wore, so no one could tell who she was. She simply stood in the middle of the road, her hands slowly lifting up to her belt. A couple of the Orcs growled at her and started to charge her.

As they charged, the woman pulled out two, long, glittering white knives from her belt and took a defensive stance, preparing for their attack. As one drew nearer, she repositioned her hold on one of the hilts and proceeded to throw it straight at the Orc, stabbing it in the neck, and the Orc dropped to the ground, dead. She then rushed forward, pulled the knife back out, just in time for the next attacker, who lunged at her with a spear. She jumped out of the way, the Orc lost its balance and she took advantage of that by thrusting a knife into its side, then twisting around, using her momentum, to block the next incoming blow. Keeping her arm above her head and the Orc staff at bay, she plunged her other knife into its gut and then pushed the body away, letting it fall off the blade. The fourth one came at her, readying its sword for a full swing. As it swung towards her head, the woman ducked in time, jumped back up into the air and forced a strong kick onto the creature's chest, making it stagger backwards. Once she landed, she dove into a roll, going underneath the Orc's arm as it made a move to attempt to strike again. Then she got back to her feet and slashed a knife up from its side and through its back. However, as she turned around, the last Orc caught her off guard and struck her across the face, knocking her off balance and down to the dirt on her back. She struggled to get her knives ready as the Orc approached her, growling and sneering down at her.

Just then there was the sound of wood knocking bone and the Orc snarled, grabbing the back of his head before turning around. The old man had gotten to his feet and was holding his staff at the ready. Before the Orc could attack him, the woman got to her feet, jumped the Orc from behind and drove her knife into its chest, killing it before it could hurt the elderly man. With a loud grunt, she withdrew her blade and shoved the Orc's body down. The young woman threw off her hood, breathing heavily from the fight, and looked around to make sure all five of the Orcs were dead.

She turned back to the old man and he took notice of her appearance. She was a short woman, well-built. Her eyes were a deep, forest green, her hair was ebony black, pulled half back, and she had sideburns down her jaw of the same shade. A faint, white scar ran from the outer corner of her right eyebrow, down past the corner of her eye to her cheekbone.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He nodded. "I give you my thanks, miss," he said.

"No thanks necessary, sir. I can't bypass anyone who's in trouble," she replied as she kicked the nearest Orc body just for good measure.

The man knelt down, picked up his brimmed hat and placed it back upon his head. "I see that you are a Dwarf," he pointed out.

The Dwarf woman let out a hearty chuckle. "Well, it's good the Orcs didn't impair your vision," she said back with a good-natured tone. Then she grinned at him, rubbing her chin. "Tell me, was it the height or the facial hair that gave it away?"

"More, I would say, it was your charisma," said the old man, grinning back. When she smirked and rolled her eyes, he asked, "Might I ask your name, miss?"

The woman smiled, bowed graciously and answered, "Aelin, at your service."

"Gandalf the Grey, at yours," replied the man.

Aelin's eyes widened at the mention of his name. "Gandalf the Grey…the Grey wizard?" she asked, astonished.

"The very same," said Gandalf.

"Durin's beard, I just aided the Grey Wizard!"

"Indeed, you have, and I am most grateful. I have never seen such fine combat skills from a Dwarf woman before."

"Well, I am not like most Dwarf women. And Orcs never stand back up after I have hit them." She gave another kick into the nearest dead Orc. "Such unsavory creatures. They must have mistaken you for a vagabond or something of that likeness."

Gandalf pointed to her glittering knives as she sheathed one of them. "Those are very curious weapons," he said. "They are not like any common knives."

Aelin kept the other knife out and gave it a twirl. "Mithril battle knives," she stated, giving an answer to Gandalf's curiosity.

"Ah…!" muttered Gandalf, understanding, needing no other answer.

After she put the second dagger in her belt, she asked him, "To what whereabouts are you headed, Mister Gandalf?"

"I am on my way to the village of Bree," he answered. "I have reason to believe that a certain person I am seeking is making his way there as we speak on his return journey home. I wish to intercept him there and speak to him of an important matter."

"Well, then, I shan't delay you anymore than you already are," said Aelin. Then she turned, crouched down and started rummaging through the belongings of all the Orcs, trying to pilfer anything of any possible value she could find. While searching the third Orc she had killed, she pulled out a rolled up piece of thick parchment, unraveled it and found herself looking at a bunch of eerie, black writing over what looked like a drawing of a mountain.

"Ugh, I have no idea what sort of writing this is," she murmured out loud, turning it a few different way to try and figure it out.

Gandalf approached her, knelt down next to her and said, holding out a hand, "Allow me."

Figuring it couldn't hurt to let him have a look, Aelin handed it to him. Gandalf squinted slightly, looking the thick parchment over and examining it. "It is Black Speech." Then his eyes grew wider suddenly and he mumbled, "It is as I feared."

"What? What is it?" asked Aelin, looking over his shoulder.

"I am afraid this only hastens my venture," he said a bit ominously, rolling the parchment up and hiding it within one of the folds of his robes. "I must ride to Bree with all speed."

Before Aelin could say anything, Gandalf whistled loudly. From just up ahead on the path, a large, brown horse came riding back.

"I am sorry to have to leave you so suddenly," he said to her as he climbed into his horse's saddle, "but things have become more urgent and I must get to Bree as soon as possible."

"I understand," Aelin said with a shrug. Then she called over her shoulder, "Kharubel!"

At the sound of her call, her pony, silver with a black mane, came trotting up the path towards her. With a smile, she reached out and took the reins, running her other hand up and down the pony's snout.

"Kharubel…that is Khuzdul, is it not?" asked Gandalf.

Aelin nodded as she pulled herself up into the saddle. "Aye, it is. The word 'kharubel' means 'horse of all horses' in the ancient Dwarf language." Then she snickered. "I know, technically, he is a pony, but Kharubel thinks he's as big and great as a horse, so I found it fitting."

"A fine name for a fine steed," commented the wizard. Then he gave her a gracious grin and tipped his hat to her. "I thank you again for your help, Miss Aelin."

"I am glad to help, Mister Gandalf," Aelin replied. Then, with a slight toss of her hair over her shoulder, she added, "Perhaps, someday, our paths may cross again."

Gandalf's head tilted and his eyes seemed to wander for a moment in contemplation. As Aelin wondered what was on his mind, he responded, "Yes, perhaps they might. I may have need of you and your skills in the future."

Now curious, she asked him, "For what and how far into the future?"

He turned his horse so that he was facing away from her, but turned over his shoulder and said, "Just keep your eyes and ears open. I wish you safe travels, my friend!" With that, he nudged his horse and rode off back down the path, leaving Aelin alone.

"Safe travels to you, too," she said out loud, knowing the wizard was too far away to hear her.

She was still amazed that she had actually helped the legendary Grey Wizard out of a predicament. It was a bit sad that her meeting with him had been brief, but she would still say it was worth it. He admired her combat skills, which not many people told her before. And now, he would somehow need her help; her skills in the future?

"What could he have meant by that?" she wondered.

Aelin couldn't understand what Gandalf could possibly want her for. Yes, she was a bit of a good fighter, but there was more to her than Gandalf knew about. Their time together had been all too short for him to really know anything about her. If he really knew the type of person that she was, would he still want her help for whatever sort of plans he had? He didn't really strike her as a judgmental kind of man, so maybe he wouldn't. But then again, she didn't know all that much about him either to really say for certain.

Pushing those thoughts aside for the time being, she looked back at all the dead Orcs still lying on the ground behind her. "Filthy creatures," she muttered bitterly.

Then she decided they'd waited long enough and it was time to get going again, back to the Blue Mountains. Aelin gave Kharubel a pat on the neck and chimed, "Come on, boy, let's ride!"

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I apologize if this first chapter kinda sucks, but I promise things will pick up and get better. Just a little something to get things started! :) In the next chapter, we'll learn a bit more about her life in the Blue Mountains and the quest for Erebor will soon begin :D

Let me know what you think! Leave a review or send me a PM, I love hearing from my readers and followers :)

Oh, also, this is how my OC's name is pronounced: Aelin (ee-lin). The spelling may be a slight throw-off, but I got the idea from "Thor: The Dark World". In the movie, the dark power, the Aether, was spelled that way but pronounced "ee-ther". So there ya go xD