Hello! It's actually really sad how long it's been since I posted anything here! But here I am again, with a brand new story that already has several chapters written. So enjoy, and please feel free to let me know what you think!
a slash in the text means that the it is a flashback.
I own nothing, sadly :(
Bilbo stood on top of the barricade in the entrance to Erebor, letting the evening breeze brush it's cool fingers through his hair. His heart hammered in his chest and he acknowledged yet again the fear that wrapped itself around him. Thorin was changed, and no one could bring him back. Not even his blood relations could penetrate the iron wall that the dragon sickness had erected around his mind. They would all die in the mountain.
Suddenly, a dark shape blotted out a silver star in the distance. Bilbo's heart sped up; it was only a day since he had last seen the great dragon fly.
His hand crept towards Sting as the dark shape winged it's way towards the mountain. Strangely, it never occurred to him to call out. He just stood there, sword partially drawn, waiting to die.
Then, a strange presence entered Bilbo's mind. An ancient, powerful mind that pushed through his thoughts like they were feathers in the breeze. His head filled with music, beautiful, ancient and strange, like the music of the Valar. Then a voice, both ruthless and gentle, penetrated the music.
(You fear me, little one.) It sounded vaguely amused.
Bilbo just shook his head in awe as the winged creature, which he had mistaken at first for a dragon, landed on the rampart and stared down at him with one golden eagle eye. Then, the shimmering plumage began to melt and shift, until a woman was standing before him, smiling.
Her brown hair had the same shimmering effect as the feathers of a bird, and it was riddled with tiny, ornate silver bands that tied of even smaller braids, muck like the style of the dwarves. A scar stretched from her cheekbone down the side of her face and neck and disappeared into the collar of her dark green silk shirt. One dark hand rested on the hilt of a huge sword, and Bilbo spied at least two more knives on her person. She rose above him, almost six feet tall and slim and toned, like she had trained for a long time. However, her most striking feature was her eyes. They were bright gold and glowed slightly in the darkness of the night. Her pupils were slightly slanted, like the eyes of a cat.
"You are Bilbo Baggins of the Shire?" She questioned, cocking her head in an unsettlingly bird like manner.
"Y-yes," Bilbo stammered awkwardly, "I thought you were a dragon."
She threw back her head and laughed, a cold, hard sound that seem more sad than joyful.
"To some, my kind is just as dangerous," her smile disappeared, "My name is Rhia and I must speak to your king."
Bilbo noticed the way her scar prevented her from truly smiling and thought of her icy laughter. This strange eagle woman reminded him uncannily of Thorin.
"Um...now might not be the best time," he tried, not wanting to see Thorin again today, "Thorin isn't well."
Rhia smiled her cold smile again.
"Mithrandir has informed me of Thorin's...ailment. It is why I am here."
"So you can cure him?" Bilbo hardly dared let himself hope. They were running out of time.
"I cannot cure him, but I can speak to him. I have walked this earth with him, and shared his hardships. If he will listen to anyone, he will listen to me."
Without waiting for an invitation, Rhia stepped lightly onto the stone stairs that led down to the Great Hall.
"Wait!" Bilbo called out, "How do I know we can trust you?"
Rhia turned, the scarred side of her face put into the light from the moon while the other remained lost in the shadow of the mountain.
"Bring me to the others. They will recognize me."
She spun and stalked down the stairs two at a time, leaving Bilbo with no choice except to follow her.
When Rhia stepped into the armoury, where all the dwarves except Thorin were eating dinner, there was a sharp intake of breath. Bilbo noticed the way the dwarves moved farther from Rhia, and Dwalin's hand strayed towards his axe.
However, Balin's facial features softened as he walked forwards and held his ring clad hand out to their guest. As Rhia grasped his hand firmly, Bilbo noticed that two of her fingers were missing.
"Rhia Empriana, Lady of the Eagles," Balin led her to an empty spot on the benches that surrounded the armoury, "You are most welcome indeed."
Dwalin stepped forward, his hand still on his axe and his eyes narrowed.
"The last time I saw you, you watched by as my people were slaughtered."
Rhia reached and touched the patterns tattooed on Dwalin's fingers and hand.
"As any great warrior knows, there is a time to fight and there is a time to wait. The dwarves who died at the Barrows were meant to die, and there was nothing I could have done to change that."
Dwalin's eyes still looked suspicious, but he accepted her and backed away. Bilbo was surprised at the awe and...was that fear? All the dwarves eyes her the same way. Whoever she was, they all knew her well.
"Where is Thorin?" She looked about, "Why has he abandoned his company?"
Balin shifted uneasily and the dwarves glanced at each other darkly.
"Thorin has been touched by the madness that killed his grandfather. He wanders the halls and treasuries, and refuses to leave, or even eat." Balin shook his head, "He is beyond reason."
Rhia stood, her strange glowing eyes catching the torchlight. Much to everyone's shock, she turned to Bilbo.
"Little one," her face changed, the hard lines softened and her lips quirked up, "You are his friend. Will you bring me to him?"
The rest of the company exchanged uneasy glances as Rhia placed her cloak, sword and now on the floor. They all noticed how she kept her twin knives and the dagger protruding from her boot.
Bilbo felt he could have cut the tension with a sword as he lead Rhia through the maze of halls towards the throne room.
"How did you come to be on this quest, little one?" She asked suddenly, shattering the silence like glass.
Bilbo was quiet a whole before answering.
"To be honest, I'm not really sure. It all happened very quickly, and before I realized what was happening, I was gone."
Bilbo heard Rhia laugh quietly and he turned to look at her.
"I know what you mean. Thorin has that effect on people."
Suddenly, a question came to Bilbo's mind.
"Where do you know Thorin from? He never mentioned knowing a shapeshifter. In fact, Beorn told us that he was the only shapeshifter left. So who are you?"
The tension returned.
"A long time ago, our parents were royalty and we came on many diplomatic missions to each others' kingdoms. Then, after the Great Dragon attacked Erebor, I hid and he left. We have not seen each other in many years."
"Who are you?" Bilbo was not deterred.
"There are many answers to that, and as time goes by you will come to understand why. However, let us suffice to say that my name is Rhia Empriana and I am Captain of the Legions of the Sky."
Bilbo came to a stop outside a great set of double doors, carved beautifully with the runes of the dwarves.
"He's in there. Would you like me to come with you?"
Rhia shook her head.
"You have done enough, little one. I will see him now," she turned and made to open the doors, then stopped, "Do not despair, Bilbo Baggins. Even the darkest places hold light, and even the smallest possessions can bring great joy. However, we must be careful not to overuse these joys, lest they lose their potency."
Her eyes fixed on his with a pointed golden stare before she turned and disappeared into the hall.
Thorin knelt in the centre of the great golden floor. His head was bowed, and he did not look up when Rhia entered.
Her boots clicking on the pure gold beneath her feet, Rhia bridged the gap towards her old friend.
"Thorin," she murmured once she was within earshot, "Time has not changed either of us, I see."
When he looked up, his eyes were not his own. They were bright with fever and wildly angry.
"Rhia," he breathed, "What are you doing here? Did the wizard sen you to meddle in my affairs?"
Rhia sat down, cross legged, on the floor and smiled sadly, her scar stretching across her jaw. She plucked out a piece of her hair and watched it morph into a feather as it fell to the floor.
"I am waiting for you to tell me why you have abandoned you honour and your company. The Thorin I knew would have lifted the weight of the world to protect his honour."
Thorin shook his head and unsheathed a dagger, twirling it between his fingers.
"Do you think that what the beggars on our doorstep want is honourable?" He spat, "It was I who reclaimed this mountain, not them, and I have the only legitimate claim to the treasure within. I bargain with no man."
"You will die here like a coward," Rhia shot back, disgusted, "Do not become your grandfather, Thorin Oakenshield."
The dagger Thorin had unsheathed earlier went sailing past the shapeshifter. Rhia quirked her sharp eyebrow.
"You will kill me for speaking the truth? Very well," Rhia flexed her wrist and two daggers shot out, hilt first, from within her sleeves, "If you win, I will leave a never return. However, if I win, you will stay here and not leave until you have come to your senses."
Giving her knives a few experimental twirls, Rhia lunged, feinting at Thorin's throat before pulling away and striking at his arm. Twisting around, Thorin touched her neck as she sent a smaller knife flying towards his foot. It glanced off with no more than a small mark.
Unbeknownst to either Thorin or Rhia, the dwarves of the company had gathered at the door, watching carefully. The battle they were witnessing was as powerful and beautiful as a storm over the sea. The two were both masters of their craft, and the victor was not clear.
In the end, Rhia twirled behind Thorin and held his head to her chest with one of her knives, while he aimed his sword at her gut.
Smiling coldly, Rhia backed away.
"Stalemate."
As Thorin backed away, brows furrowed, a foot suddenly threw him off and he found himself on the floor with a cold knife pressed against his chest.
"My dear," cold laughter filled the chamber again, "You have indeed grown out of practice. There was a time when you would have never let your guard down around me."
However, Thorin was not listening. He knelt once again on the floor, clutching his head.
"I am not my grandfather..." He muttered almost deliriously to himself.
Then, he backed away, staring with horror at the floor beneath his feet.
"Leave him," Rhia ordered, "We must go to the ramparts. It will not be long now before they need us."
The dwarves shifted uneasily and Dwalin stepped forwards.
"We do not answer to you," he said almost apologetically, "We answer to our king."
Rhia nodded sharply, but her golden eyes seemed angry.
"I will watch the ramparts. You stay by your king."
Bilbo stood for a little while at the entrance to the ramparts, watching Rhia. Seeing her there, standing in the fiery glow of sunrise, there was no doubt that she was not human. There was a strange aura around her that felt strange, older than time and more powerful than a storm.
Bilbo noticed, however, she seemed distracted as she watched the battle rage on below her. Her hand played nervously with a beautiful silver pendant around her neck.
Bilbo stepped forwards, and Rhia turned her head sharply, one hand going for her sword, which she ha put back around her waist. However, she relaxed when she saw Bilbo.
"What is it, little one?"
"I saw that pendant you wear, and I couldn't help but notice it doesn't look like any metal I have ever seen before. Where did you get it?"
Rhia's expression darkened, and memories came flooding back to her.
/
Rhia saw her parents returning from Erebor almost two hours before they actually arrived back at the eyrie. She ran to the cliff edge as her mother landed, exhausted from fighting the winds all the way back home.
"Mother! What has happened at the lonely mountain?"
For a moment, her mother could only shake her head and pant. Then,
"A...dragon," she gasped, "A dragon has attacked Erebor."
Rhia stated around. Everywhere, life for the eagles was normal, scouting parties returning from a hunt and young eagles riding the thermals created by the cliffs.
"Why is no one rallying the troops?" Rhia's voice rose in desperation, "We have to go and help them! They will die without aid!"
Rhia's mother shook her head sadly, shifting into human form so she could look her daughter directly in her golden eyes.
"They have brought this upon themselves. They will receive no help from the eagles."
Rhia watched her mother go, anger boiling inside her like a volcano. She had not felt fury like this for over a hundred years.
"Just because their king is made does not mean they are evil!" She yelled at her mother's retreating back, "There are children in there that you have just condemned to death! Women and men who know nothing of their king's crime!"
Her mother shook her head.
"This world will be made a better place with the eradication of their kind. The dwarves of Erebor are driven only by their greed. Sometimes, Rhia, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."
"Very well. Perhaps the dwarves will not receive your aid. But you do not command the eagle armies. That command falls to the oldest heir of the emperor and empress, which means it falls to me. And I will rally the legions and fly to Erebor whether I have your blessing or not."