Chapter One

Sleepless Nights

There was a full moon out and the small, quaint town hidden at the edge of a sea of trees was already drenched in the darkness of midnight. A metallic wind chime on the inn's porch was singing in the wind and its notes create smallb shatters in the sleeping silence. From my room, I could hear the breeze whistle between the creaks in the window frames, hundreds of leaves dancing in a violent rustle, and the soft snore of the body lying next to me.

Much like many nights before, I find myself without the loving embrace of dreams and resting slumber. There lays, deep within my bones and drifting aimlessly through my veins, a sensation. It spreads like wild fire through my arteries, flooding my heart, and escaping into my lungs. Sometimes it brings me great fear and others, overwhelming joy. Often it calls or beckons; other moments it lingers between the strands of my hair and floats through the air like faint specks of dust. My brother had told me that this was how the Earth spoke; it was the universe's language. He told me that magic was all around us but only a rare few could see it, listen for it.

"Wizards can see it," my brother Cecil told me one night while we were young. "They can literally feel the magic and energy in the earth and the air; that's how they can cast spells." I laughed at him and taunted;

"Can you see it? Huh? What's your proof?"

"I don't see a damn thing," he admitted, "Just trees and rocks but my proof is you."

"I've never casted any spells before," I shot back

"Not yet, you haven't but I know you see it, feel it. It's the reason why you grow calm and serious when nothing is happening, or why suddenly you are bursting with joy. One day, with the proper training, you will posses great power."

I frowned at that, "Power? I think it's just a feeling Cecil, not some weird magic."

"It's not Tierra, I wish I could prove it to you but it's a gift that only you hold in our family…" He, of course, as always, had been right and I had been terribly wrong.

In the darkness of the room, I could barely define the hand I rose and held in front of me. My fingers tingled and the sensation washed over me, flowing into my hand. My skin grew warm and a small light formed in the very center of my palm. It lit the room with an inviting glow as it rose to the ceiling and hovered there contently.

The body next to me stirred in a brief rustle but quickly settled down. I turned to him and a wave of memories still fresh from the night before rushed over me; the bard, his lyrics, his attempts to sway me, and finally giving in just so the remainder of the night wouldn't linger with uninterrupted loneliness. He was handsome with long, fair curls outlining his thin cheekbones and hard chin but his voice was hoarse for a singer and he sang just a tad off beat. In the crackling light of the fireplace, he had sung to me in the main hall of the inn reciting a poem from Kilakesh;

"My maiden,

I shall light the stars for you.

My lady,

put the moon on your shoulder,

even as you grow older."

I held back my chuckle with my hand as other patrons laughed openly at his display. I was no maiden, nor a lady, but for one night I could pretend and wish my shadows away with a couple of pale ales and a slice of roasted boar. I did not fall for his sweet nothings, his endless whispers, or soft touches though; I simply wanted an escape from the real and the delusional.

I sighed softly, filling my lungs with the brisk air of the rising morning and cautiously removed myself from the warmth and comfort of the bed without waking the bard. In the dim light, I retrieved my clothes and slid them on piece by piece. I decided not to dawn my armor; I had learned from many of my quests that bandits were more likely to attack if one dressed in silver and gold plating and carried an Elvish sword on the hip. Instead I put on a white long-sleeved blouse, pulled up my trousers, and slipped on my leather vest and boots. I pulled my long, white hair back and braided it down the side of my head in a messy cascade of strands.

Lastly, I found my knapsack in a corner of the room, I quickly opened it up to make sure everything was it order. It held everything from armor and weapons to small pieces of gold and precious herbs. It had everything I would need to complete my journey so I swung it over my right shoulder and turned towards the wooden door to make my leave…but something shiny flickered in the back of my eye.

A lute.

More specific, it was the bard's lute. Its strings had reflected the light from the ceiling and stopped me dead in my steps.

What good would a lute do against a dragon? I thought to myself but my mind still lingered on the idea that music was company, a luxury on the lonely road to have. My conscious fought against me but my palms were already sweating with anticipation and optimism. I grabbed it, tied it to my gear, and left the room before my small magic orb faded back into darkness.

The second I stepped out of the inn, the cold air embraced me with delight and renewal. It was just before dusk, in the east the sky was transforming but the sun had still not peaked behind the distant mountains. Even now the village was at rest and the streets empty of life. I began to walk in the direction of the setting moon and the falling stars. Before me was much open land, fields and fields of wilderness and from here there would only be fragments of civilization across it. I had a map locked away in my supplies but I didn't need it, I already knew where I was going. I had studied that map a thousand times alone in the dark, under some tree or by the light of a camp fire. I memorized every detail down to the last sketch. Hidden by the haze of the world, I knew exactly where the Lonely Mountain stood.

That night, the prince could not sleep. In a room full of his fellow dwarves, Thorin laid awake after choking on smoke in his dreams. As of lately, the dragon has been haunting him. His company had finally made it to Lake Town and was about to make their final run for the Lonely Mountain. As they approach their home, the mountain, and the endless forgotten treasure, the more Smaug materialized when he closed his eyes and drifted into thought. He often dreamt of his father, Thrain, and his past life but as the dreams progress, a long shadow would slowly take over. Smaug did not always appear but the flames did. As Thorin slept he could feel smoke engulfing his lungs, great walls of flames burning his skin, and giant flashes of light stinging his eyes. No matter where he ran, where he turned, there was only an inferno of fire destroying everything in its path.

On this night, as Thorin slept, he walked with his grandfather, Thror, through the Great Hall of Erebor. They were laughing at each other, Thorin couldn't quit remember why but something Thror said made he's face light up and his dark blue eyes glisten. His grandfather had a firm hold on his shoulder and a loving smile. Thorin could only look at him and smile back, his heart filled with a soft bliss… but something caught the prince's eye. There was something behind his grandfather, moving, scaly and slimy.

You think you can steal from me…. It hissed through sharp teeth. Take my treasure.

Thorin never saw Smaug. He barely had enough time to push his grandfather and himself to the ground before the flames hit them. Suddenly, the entire kingdom was on fire. All around them was burning up; paintings, flags, the treasure… The two dwarves ran down the grand hall, through giant stone doors, and took them from one hell into the next. As they enter the adjacent room, it's filled with piles of treasure, stacks of gold, jewels, and diamonds all consumed in fire. Thorin tried to make his way through but suddenly realized that Thror was gone and the flames are coming closer, burning his skin. They come in waves, whipping him with smoldering slashes and push him back against a wall; he has nowhere to run.

Seeeee? The voice came back. This is what happens when you think you can take my gold, my preciousss. Thorin could do nothing but look up at two blazing gold eyes staring through him. Now your mine! He waited to be hit with fire but it didn't happen, instead all he saw was a river of melted gold.

That's when he woke up.

Thorin could hear Dawlin's snoring and Bofur's deep, heavy breath. He thoughts were still of the dragon but his heart had finally stopped pounding in his chest and he could breath steady. Pathetic, it was only a dream, he told himself but it had been all too real to experience. He tried to drift back into the stream of slumber but the molten gold would come rushing back towards him, hot and ungodly. Thorin was unsure what it all meant, the river of metal was a new occurrence but it struck him odd yet familiar. Somehow, in the depths of his mind he could hear Elrond's thick elvish voice ringing a conversation he had overheard;

"Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs in that family. His grandfather lost his mind, his father succumbed to the same sickness; can you swear that Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?" It was true, even Thorin could not deny the insane obsession with gold that flowed in his family's bloodline; he had suffered through it watching Thror drool over his plunder when the dragon attacked and sacrificing countless of their own kin in attempt to regain his beloved treasure.

But was Throin his grandfather, his father? Would he too plummet and tremble to the madness that casts a shadow on his fate? Unfortunately, he did not know. He was strong, brave, and thoughtful yet he found himself filled with a strange anticipation and excitement with the progress they've made towards the mountain. His thoughts were slowly being clouded with old memories of heaps of treasure that he knew was still sitting there, waiting, calling… Sometimes Thorin himself could not end the flood of envy and desire that came with these memories and the sensation of need to hold gold pieces in his bare hands; fiddling them between his fingers and caressing the precious metal against his skin…Thorin knew he needed to be strong for himself, for his kin, for his men, but even he could not say that he could prevent himself from being overcome with dragon sickness and drowning in his forefather's gold. He could only hold his breath and hope.

Walking had turned out to be a more time consuming approach that I had original anticipated. Although it definitely had its perks when it came to acquiring valuable resources; several times I left the path to collect wild burdock or stale chicory and even ran into an old elf who traded me so juniper berries for some cattail I had previously obtained. Unfortunately, it was already mid-day and the sun was blaring down on me on this small dirt path. It had been three days since I left the small village and it would still take me several hours to arrive to Lake Town but from there would only be a short journey to the mountain.

I was in peaceful meadow where there were only small patches of leafy shrubs and growing willows trees. The grass grew high, up to my knees, and the forest line stopped right along the field in a perfect oval. I could feel the magic in the air; it was adrift in the wind and whispering between the green foliage. It was clam here, pure, holy… But in the distant, a soft murmur of violence was creating ripples in the serenity.

I stopped walking, closed my eyes, and breathed in my surroundings. There was a stream hidden beneath the vegetation, a flow of water trickling down smooth rocks and a small animal crackling, digging in the soil. I breathed out; fire, somewhere in the forest someone is burning wood and raw flesh, blood spilt on the earth was drying. A hum is lingering in the breeze but this time it's a voice, a deep, low cry.

I opened my eyes, searched the sky and the forest line for smoke but could only see the never ending blue of the heavens.

Where…? I thought as I gazed into the forest, I could feel it but there was no sign…

CRACK!

Instantly I looked down, surprised by the sound, to find a rabbit had hopped right to my feet. His beady black eyes were gazing at me with his head at a tilt. His fur was white with spots of chocolate brown and was still thick with his winter coat.

He stared.

"You know where it is huh little bunny?" I said softly, almost in a whisper. "Who's hurt?"

He stared. His plush body stiff and his long ears straight.

"Take me so I can help them…" Then off he went, hopping rapidly towards the trees. I instantly followed, carefully not to lose him since the grass stood taller than the tips of his colorless ears. He went directly into the forest. Huge massive oak trees and colossal redwoods darkened the sky with their blanket of leaves and the floor was concealed by a layer of withering and dead foliage. We kept going, passing forgotten caves, huge boulders of almost every color, and a second meadow where the grass was gold. I was almost out of breath when we entered a small clearing in the trees. I instantly smiled.

Here, a great oak once stood and overlooked the entire woodland, watching over the trees as a guardian but now, only its trunk stands. The empty space in the canopy above allowed light to flood onto the forest floor; it was enough for a gathering of lavender to grow.

I sighed; the scent embraced me and carried me over. I took no time at all to pull out a small cloth in my sack to wrap some up and stashing it away for later. Then grabbed some with my hands, rubbed it against my palms, and slid my fingers through my hair. The smell by itself relaxed me and put me in a satisfied mood. I realized that I had completely misplaced the rabbit with this distraction but I simply could not help myself. There were few things in this world that smelt this luxurious and for one moment, I wanted to be one of them.

"Who are you?" A voice hissed, breaking me off from my brief second of bliss. I didn't react right away; it took me a fraction of a blink to come to the conclusion that this was exactly where the rabbit had intended to lead me. "Speak or I'll kill you trespasser!"

"Who me?" I asked, finally turning to my accuser. A tall, filthy, orc stood with his face pal and his teeth black. His armor tattered and cracked but his sword held strange markings… "Well I'm Tierra, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Don't play games with me, girl…" He put empathize on the last word as he raised the tip of his sword at me. I smiled at him which he returned with a glare.

"I see you are the serious type…" I told him, he took a step towards me.

"You are going to make a fine dinner…" He crackled with a fowl smile and I laughed too. He abruptly stopped. "What's so funny? You are about to die!"

"It's just so funny to me that you really think that… I mean, that's just about borderline delusional." I told him, pretending to wipe a tear from my eyes as if I had really laughed that hard.

His face flashed with fury and without hesitation he charged, raising his sword up and preparing to strike. I was defenseless, or, so he thought. I mustered the sensation into both of my hands, magic swell in my fists and grew hot. My fingers tingled and my palms grew bright, whirling with the sensation. I held my hands up, as if holding a bow and arrow, took aim, and let the sensation fly through my finger tips. A pillar of light soared through the air and pierced him as he finally swung his sword. I immediately dodged the silver blade with a duck and stepped back to witness the magic arrow pierce his armor and glide right through his heart. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared but it left him a bloody hole in his chest. He fought for the last breaths of his life, wheezing and coughing. He staggered backwards, dropping his sword with a small clunck in the grass, and falling to his knees, holding his hand over his wound as black liquid oozed out.

I left him there. Slowly walked over to his fallen weapon and picked it up, holding it with both hands. It was a work of art, a quality piece that no Orc could ever fashion. The hilt was decoratively wrapped in mostly fine strips of dark leather on the grip but a round white-gold pommel at the end embossed with a rather large ruby. The cross-guard too was made from the same metal and the blade itself was engraved with ancient characters. I could not read it but I knew they were Dwarvish. I traced my fingers over the words, my eyes closed, this weapon did not always belong to fifth, the sword had been forged for someone royal, a high ranking official perhaps, and it has seen a number of battles. The metal hummed memories of a past life, previous owners and adventures. I had never seen a Dwarvish sword like this, its style was almost that of the Elves but the markings were unmistakable.

I made a quick decision to keep the sword so I had to return to the dead Orc and relieve him of its scabbard. This was unproblematic because life had already slipped away from him but something about dead bodies makes me uneasy. Call me superstitious.

After I untied it, I followed the smell of a burning fire to find his camp; it was not too far off. I kept the sword out and close to me, cautious just in case he had any friends tagging along with him. I made my way past a couple trees and could see a worn out, dirty cloth tent standing. I quickly darted behind the base of a trunk and listened.

I could hear rustling but not voices or humanly clatter. In the wind, the cry still lingered but softer than before. I slowly approached the site, carefully watching to make sure that I wasn't about to walk right into an ambush. I was finally right behind the tent; no one appeared to be inside. I quietly strolled around its right side and took a peak over the corner…what lied before me left me astounded. I stood there, gasping in marvel at a creature that could only stare back at me.

I had only ever seen a wyvern once before in my life but this one was more majestic and mightier than ever I imagined they could be. She was tied up and banded to the ground with yards of rope and stakes. She was slick black with purple hints streaking down her long neck, back, and round face. Her big, bright green eyes were wide and glistening and head low to the earth. She was watching me as I took a step towards her. The wyvern instantly struggled, attempting to beat her wings but the ropes so tight against her skin wouldn't give and prior wounds reopened, dripping fresh blood to the ground.

"Stop! You'll kill yourself!" I exclaimed and took another step towards the creature as something cracked and crackled beneath my foot. I looked; eggshells. Large, spotted eggshells that could have only came from… I was suddenly hit with a realization and my heart sunk. That Orc must have stolen her eggs and used them as bait to get to her. Once he had both it was only a matter of time before he cooked and ate the eggs. "Poor mama…" I whispered.

The wyvern was watching me again and I held my hands up to her, with one holding the sword and slowly strolling. I whispered to her soft words in Elvish, "Cormamin lindua ele lle," I let her smell my hands, hair, and the blade. She seemed relaxed now. I cut her free from the ropes and she shook off the rest in one great wave. Now, standing, she was even more gorgeous. Her wings were spiked and ragged at the ends but magnificent, stretching as far wide as the small clearing we stood in. I could do nothing but stare at her wonder and let sensation after sensation rush through my blood. She was filled with magic and the universe was speaking to us in the air. I could feel her heart beat in her scaly chest and a sorrow crying with each throb and thump.

"I'm sorry…" I told her, guilty for my tardiness but in her eyes, she spoke in a language that only the earth knew and in it the wind sung a song that filled me with a strange hopefulness. The wyvern opened her wings, the light bombarded her and she shimmered in dark shades of plum. Her eyes, peered down at me, and she motioned with her head to her back.

I raised an eyebrow and she stared back.

"Have you ever had passengers before?" I asked, scratching the back of my head and her mouth changed, almost curved upward in an awkward smile. As if she knew and completely understood what I just said. She motioned again and in a single blink, I sheathed my sword and decided to climb on her back, sitting on the gap between her neck and wings. Never in my life had I been so nervous, anxious, and excited all at once. I grabbed on to her tight and held my breath. She gave me one look, almost to encourage my strength, and took off.

We were up in the air in merely seconds and within a minute, several hundred feet above Middle Earth. I shook terribly, trying not to look down at the ever descending sanctuary of solid ground. Soon, we were leveled with the clouds and the wyvern glided on the air, skipping over each billow of white gas as she coasted the atmosphere. I held on tight but from here, I could see the world and a pure sensation swelled in my heart. I couldn't help but smile. I undid my braid and let the wind tangle my hair. There were no ripples in the magic this high up, no disturbances in the peacefulness. It was silent but yet, when I closed my eyes, I could hear so many voices scattered in the wind.

I have never been in tune to the world before, in harmony with its voice and energy. So many small clatters occur on land that it drowns out its magic but up here, where those only with wings can reach, it's strong. It calls to me in a deep, low vibration that rattles inside my bones with an ominous presence and a vast connection. I feel it all around me, inside me; a never ending current of magic. I let it wash over me as we fly.

"Can you take me outside of Lake Town?" I whispered and the wyvern heard me, making an insanely sharp turn to the west. Ruffles of clouds rushed by me, momentarily blinding me, and then we were in the clear. A rolling wall of white smoke dragged behind us but I could see we were quickly approaching the Lonely Mountain.

Disclaimer: I claim nothing, I have no rights to this chapter or another other chapter I may write.

Author Notes:
I really hope everyone enjoyed this first chapter, it was a bit lengthy but I really hate short beginning chapters that don't point the reader towards the bulk of the plot. This is my very first LOTR Universe fanficiton so I'm going to apologize in advance if I have butchered any of the nomenclature here. I'm very motivated to get through this story from beginning to end so let me know if anything seems too fast paced. I don't want to neglect details just because I want to finish this plot I've been running through my head! Anyway, please leave me lots of reviews. Don't be afraid to point out my mistakes or things that don't make sense. I love all comments from my readers. The next chapter should be up in a couple days! Thanks for stopping by! -Inkie