Chapter 1: Ubdûkh

It was dark when Ahvain returned to the familiar surroundings of her town. A few people were out roaming the streets, but it was mainly the drunkards and the ladies of the night. In the small settlement there were three taverns, enough to satisfy the needs of the townsmen, and a local market that gathered in the mornings. An inn was located in the backside of the town, easily accessible by the harlots to use for their customers. Sadly enough she had to pass the building to get to her abode.

The whores gave her looks of disgust as she passed them. All Ahvain did to avoid their gaze was to shift the bag full of weapons on her shoulder. She would need to fix them, sharpen them and return them to their owners by the morning. Tonight was going to be a long night and judging by the weight of the sack it would be an all night job. Once outside her home she through the bag on the ground, the contents were steel and could handle the drop. She un-saddled her horse and left him in the stable before grabbing the bag and trudging it inside. The house was large for just the girl, but it wasn't always empty.

When she was a newborn it was home to her parents and her father's father. Her family was a mixed one. Her grandfather was a dwarf, he fell in love with a human girl and had a son, the son, half human and half dwarf, married an elven women. Years passed and they had a daughter, Ahvain. But now after many, many years only Ahvain remained. Her parents had sacrificed their lives in return for their only daughter's safety. Ahvain's grandfather had just passed on recently from old age. Dwarves, unlike elves, do not live forever. Ahvain lit the fire in her grandfather's old forge, it would be awhile before she could use the coals.

~karak~

The night before had drawn on and on, the girl had finished her work only an hour or so before the sun had taken place in the sky. Her face had been covered in soot and sweat, her hair, damp clung to her skull. She had cleaned herself up briefly before starting out to return the mended blades. That had been hours ago and once again the half-elven maiden was returning to her household in the fleeting hours of the dark. Tonight was different though, there was a murmur around the locals who still roamed the streets. Even the harlots stood gossiping amongst themselves. She adjusted the cap on her head, tucking away the stray hairs. Gossip could only mean one thing...

There was a stranger in town.

Ahvain felt sorry for the stranger. If they were looking for some food and a good night's sleep, they weren't going to find it here. As she neared the inn she could see a horse tied to the post outside. A short, bulky figure was leaving the horse's side. Living with her grandfather all her life she knew what this creature was. Ahvain gave her horse a gentle nudge and trotted up to the inn.

"Master Dwarf!"

The figure stopped and turned in her direction. Ahvain stopped her horse at the steps. The dwarf looked at her with a sense of judgment in his eyes. He didn't say anything to her as she approached.

"Don't bother in trying to get lodging here, you will not be welcome."

She kept her voice level, knowing dwarves to jump to the wrong meaning at times.

His eyes hardened before he spoke. "What would you have me do, woman?"

He began to walk in her direction, heavy boots sounding in each step.

Ahvain smiled, "I can offer you a place to rest tonight. You will be more than welcome."

The dwarf's eyes searched hers and then her body, landing on the blade around her waist.

"How do I know you don't have ill intentions?"

A smile winked across her face, she gestured in his direction, "as if I could take you."

He relaxed, only slightly, "very well." He strode back to his horse (or was it a pony?) and got on. "Lead the way."

The ride was silent and thankfully short. As the pair arrived at Ahvain's house and dismounted their horses and unsaddled them before the next few words were exchanged.

"Is your husband fine with you bringing dwarves home on occasion?" His tone was evenly spread between seriousness and humor.

Ahvain gave him a confused look, before a short laugh was released. "I am unmarried Master dwarf, but I enjoy the company of dwarves so he would have to deal with it."

They entered the home, the dwarf glanced around, "so this is not the first time you've invited strange dwarves into your household?"

She shook her head, "no, you would be the first. I have however met and served several dwarves in my lifetime, all of whom have proven to be a trusting, lively bunch. Unless you are an odd case, I feel content in inviting you into my home. Now, follow me, I'll show you to your room."

He grabbed one of the packs that had been hanging from the saddle before following.

Opening the door to her grandfather's old room she smiled. "I'll get a meal together, when you have made yourself comfortable the kitchen isn't hard to find."

The dwarf released a hint of a smile. "Thank you, Milady."

Shaking her head, "just Ahvain, Master Dwarf." She bowed her head slightly and turned, starting off to the kitchen when she heard the dwarf's voice behind her. "Pardon?"

"My name is Thorin."

Ahvain smiled, "Pleasure to meet you Thorin."

The half-elven woman turned and walked away leaving the dwarrow king to himself in the hall of her home.

Ahvain was displeased about the state of her pantry. Bare shelves were the norm. A few bits of older bread were in the back, along with some older cheeses but there was nothing truly suitable to eat.

"Well," she closed the door and re-opened the pantry as if a magical power would put food on the shelves. "This is embarrassing."

The girl froze, she could still hear movement from the room she'd shown Thorin. Her eyes glanced at the door.

"If I hurry…" she thought before briskly running out the door.

She found her way to a house of her friend.

~karak~

Thorin looked around the room he was led to and was surprised to see that the furniture had many dwarven qualities to it. The bed was shorter than a man's and was bulky, like most dwarf beds. It was covered in knitted, thick furs instead of sheets. It reminded him of the bed he slept in back when he was younger, in Erebor. The smile that had found its way on his features faded.

Erebor…

He put the pack near the bed and turned to leave but noticed a pair of blades decorating the far wall. They were defiantly of dwarven craftsmanship, their sharp angles gave it away, but so did the runes engraved near the hilts.

"Protection and Family," he mumbled reading the runes.

Thorin heard a door close loudly and left the room to investigate. As the girl had said the kitchen was easy to find but she was currently not present. Standing in the middle of this women's house felt strange but he took her absence as a chance to examine her home. Most of the major pieces in the home were decorated in elvish patterns. The sight made the dwarf scowl.

No sooner had he done that the owner returned through a different door then the one they had entered through when they arrived. Ahvain had a bag on her shoulder and a sour look on her face. When she saw the dwarf in front of her the look was replaced with a flustered smile and tucked some hairs that had gone stray from her cap.

"Um, sorry, I had to, uh…" She put the bag on the table. "Truth be told, I haven't had to worry about keeping food here since my Grandfather passed on."

She gave him a fake smile and started pulling things out of her bag.

"I'm sorry I sho-"

She put a hand on his forearm silencing him. "Don't. It isn't your fault" She removed her hand and continued, "I went over to a friend of mine for the food." Grabbed a plate from somewhere and handed him some food before taking some for herself, but not enough for Thorin's liking.

"You should eat more than that."

Ahvain coughed on a piece of bread that had caught in her throat. "Excuse me?"

'Perhaps that was too bold,' he thought. "You said you hadn't been eating very well, so you should take more."

She smiled, "I'm good Mas- Thorin, thank you though."

He was going to protest when she shot him a glare.

"I know you dwarves pride yourselves on looking out for your women, but I will not easily let myself become weakened by lack of food. If I'm hungry later I will find something to snack on."

The meal continued on without much more said. When his plate was clean she took it and placed it in a trough near the pump. They were clean minutes later.

Ahvain turned and faced her guest. "I'm afraid that I need to retire for the night, but if you shall need me I will be in my room."

Thorin watched as she left. He wasn't sure what to think of her yet. Sure she was kind and offered him a place to stay for the night. But she wasn't like other woman he'd met. Most women would be married with children at her age. They would have their hair down or braided out of their face, but her's was up in that cap. The king put his thoughts aside and went to his room. Once under the pelts he succumbed to sleep.

~karak~

A metal clash jolted Thorin from sleep, grabbing for a sword that wasn't there. Slowly he got up, allowing the adrenaline to build up in his veins. Sword in hand he ventured out to the main hall of the house. There was food on the table along with a note.

If I'm not here when you wake I'll be back shortly.

Here is breakfast.

Ahvain

Her scripture was beautiful, but too fancy for his liking,

The metal clang came again. He put his hand on the door they had come through the day prior and opened slowly and was quiet surprised at what he saw.

Ahvain was in a soot covered dress with the sleeves torn off, a hammer in a hand and prongs in the other pounding away at whatever she was working on. Despite the cap that was still on her head, her brow was dripping with sweat and was taut with concentration. She hit the metal a few more times before dousing it in a barrel of water and walking it over to a horse tied not far off.

Thorin lowered his sword before speaking. "Good morning."

The addressed turned from the horse and smiled. "More like good afternoon Master Thorin."

"Is it really that late?" He stepped into the forge.

"I believe so." She smiled again before turning back to the horse.

Thorin's lips ever so slightly curled to a smile and he leaned his blade up against the frame of the door. This woman was full of surprises. He watched her run her hand down the horse's leg before picking the hoof up from the ground. Using a tool she scrapped the collected dirt by the frog and then lined up the shoe before starting to hammer the nails in the hoof. She finished quickly.

She stood and wiped at the sweat still on her brow. "Are you going to just stand there? I almost expected some speech about a woman doing a man's work."

"I am not one to judge a person's work Milady, but it is a tad odd seeing a lady in a forge."

She put her hammer on a bench to the side along with the prongs she had been using, chuckling softly after his words. "You and my grandfather would have gotten along nicely; he said nearly the same thing for years after he taught me."

"Your grandfather was a smith?" It came out more like a statement than a question, but she answered it anyways.

"Yes, as was his father and grandfather before him," She shook her head. "But that was long, very long ago."

Thorin watched her eyes light up with talk of her father's father.

"You speak highly of him, why not your father?"

Her features darkened, "He and my mother died when I was very young, Darik didn't speak of them much."

"I'm sor-"

"You're doing it again."

"What?"

She took a deep breath, "You're apologizing for something that you couldn't control or be faulted on and therefore have no need to apologize to me."

"I'm-" he was about to say 'sorry' but another one of her glares was sent towards him. That's when he recalled something.

"Darik is a dwarven name."

Her facial features brighten once again. "Of course it is."

Thorin watched her eye dance with some hidden knowledge, "I haven't met many humans who were given a dwarven name."

She laughed and brushed passed him to get to the door. "I haven't either." She stopped and looked back through the now opened door. Seeing the confusion on his face she laughed again. "Darik was a dwarf, Master Thorin."

With that she closed the baffled dwarf in her forge and went off to clean up, laughing to herself the entire time.

Thorin stood in the forge for awhile before he grabbed his blade and returned to the kitchen. His breakfast was still there, but not for much longer.

The moment he had taken his last bite, Ahvain returned from her room, tucking fly-away hairs into a clean cap.

"Are you planning to spend another night Master Thorin?" She sat down across from him, still messing with her cap. "You are welcome to do so if you wish."

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"Nonsense," Ahvain stood up and pushed in her chair. "I have to return the horse to my friend, and then I'll pick up some meat in the market. But I shouldn't be long. Feel free to do whatever."

With that she walked to the forge with a smile.

Thorin stood there slightly dumbfounded by this woman. She was a confusing creature and he wasn't sure what to think of her. Without much more of a thought he fastened his sword around his waist and followed her out. She was just untying the horse when he arrived. She gave him a smile and a gesture with her head for him to follow and then started out onto the path. He strode over to her and they walked down the path a ways in silence.

"You are part dwarf then are you not?" He asked, breaking the hush between them.

"Yes, a mere fourth. But let us not talk about my other heritage please." She never looked at him, only ahead.

"May we talk of your grandfather?" Thorin was hesitant to ask, if he had recently passed Thorin didn't want to awaken memories. He knew the pain of loss.

She smiled and turned to look at him. "What would you like to know?"

"Where did he hail from?" It was a start, Thorin thought.

"He was a smith in the Iron Hills. He then heard of some kin living past Moria and set out to join them. He met my grandmother and settled down here."

Thorin cringed when she spoke of Moria, the place meant nothing but death to him. Thoughts of the battle of Azanulbizar were not particularly happy ones.

"If I may, where do you call home?"

"My home is…" He wasn't sure how to answer. He had a place among his sister Dis and his nephews in the Blue Mountains, but his true home was Erebor.

"I'm not sure anymore honestly."

"So, Erebor then?"

The king stopped. "How…"

Ahvain stopped and turned to him, "sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud. But I would assume that I was correct?"

He nodded and continued walking.

"Yes, I came from Erebor. I- my sister and her two sons live in the Blue Mountains. My spare time is spent with them." They walked side-by-side for a bit before he asked another question. "What do you know of Erebor?"

The horse, a pudgy chestnut mare, nudged the women sending her tripping forward. She stopped suddenly, after regaining her footing, and the horse shot her head up to avoid hitting the women.

"No," her voice wasn't harsh but held a threat deep inside.

Thorin's lips dared to curl up ever so slightly at the scene, she, though taller than him (by an inch, if not less) was, for lack of a better word, dwarfed by the animal. She smiled and petted the mare on the broad of her face before looking at him and continuing on the walk. After a short moment she turned off the path and into a small stable where she tied of the mare and walked out.

When they had returned to the path she spoke up, "I don't know much really. Grandfather spoke of its beautiful gold inlayed halls, sparkling with jewels, the smoldering forges and the lively city of Dale, friendly trade between man and dwarf. He could go on for the whole day."

"Erebor was truly beautiful, unlike any of the other dwarven kingdoms."

"I wish…" She shook her head. "So, are you staying another night? I would like to know how much food to purchase while at the market."

"I will stay another night, if that is acceptable with you," he watched her nod. "I'll leave tomorrow. I was hoping to find some work but it seems that this place already has a smith."

"If you need the work, you are more than welcome to make use of my forge." She watched for his reaction.

Thorin shook his head. "I couldn't take work from you."

"Nonsense. I can find another way to earn a living. If you would like to stay awhile and use my forge, you are more than welcome Thorin."

The busy market came into view, people were everywhere, with baskets full of vegetables and other food-ly things.

"You and I may be strangers to one another, but I don't mind having company around." Ahvain gave him a smile before strolling over to a farmer selling such things as potatoes and carrots.

So, just the start to this... my plan for this is to start out with developing feelings and then move on to the movie's plot. I might use some things from the book, but I'm not sure. If you couldn't tell this is pre-journey...

FYI, I might skip around.. depends on how inspired I feel to write this...

I'm also not sure about how I want to end this. Part of me is all "Stay true to the story! Blah blah blah"

But then another part is yelling, "NO YOU IDIOT! THEY DESERVES TO LIVE!"

Then part of me just wants to have a sad ending that leaves all you readers (if any) completely pissed off.

But... I don't know...Maybe I'll do a poll...