The Task in Hand

Fira gave a small moan as she shifted her pack to avoid it rubbing against her already sore back. The trees that surrounded her towered up into the sky – something that wasn't hard give her small height. Once again she gave a small curse for her dwarven blood. For the past three hundred years she had been looked down on and picked on by the rest of her kind. But they hadn't been laughing when she'd killed their kings heir had they? The smirks had been wiped from their faces as quickly as they had appeared in the first place.

With a crumpled piece of paper in her hand Fira forced herself to calm down. She wasn't exactly lost per se, but she wouldn't have minded someone else being in the forest so she could ask for directions. She hadn't even heard of the Shire until her exile. And even then she had assumed it wasn't a real place. Of course she knew what a Hobbit was, she wasn't that sheltered. But having never met one she had assumed no more existed. But then the mountains in the far north weren't exactly filled with hobbits, elves, humans or dwarves no matter what the situation. No, the only creatures to be found there were her own kind – the Dragonborns.

Biting her lip Fira pulled at the straps of her pack to avoid them cutting too much into her skin. As she did so her eyes caught sight of her burnt hands. In the steadily fading light it was harder to see the scarred flesh and – for a few minutes – she could just about tell herself it hadn't happened. But deep down she knew she was lying to herself. She had committed a crime and been punished for it.

Fira let out a blood curdling roar before kicking at the body in front of her. Several of the crowd moved backwards but Fira didn't have eyes for them. Instead she stared at her king who was looking on with a mix of horror and anguish. Her wings beat the air before her body twisted and contorted. The dead dragon was already changing form and when Fira stood before the crowd in her naked, human skin the lifeless eyes of her victim gazed up at her. She gave it a small shrug before pulling a cloak around her body to cover her up.

No one knew what to do next. Fira didn't say anything, she didn't need to. Instead she allowed the soldiers to grab her and drag her away from the arena. Looking over her shoulder she saw her king sink to his knees by his son's body. Just as she turned the corner he locked eyes with her. At the sight of his dragon eyes Fira gave a small shudder.

Unsurprisingly she was locked in the smallest cell possible. Clothes had been handed over to her and much to her disgust both guards watched her longingly as she changed. Fira shook her head; they might have towered over her now she was human again but once she shifted nothing would stop her ripping them into shreds. Once she was dressed the guards entered. Fira snarled as one of them held out a pair of manacles but the other guard grabbed her and shook her roughly.

"Do not make us paralyse you."

He rubbed his second and third finger together and Fira ceased her fighting. She knew one touch from him and her whole body would freeze. Every single Dragonborn possessed a certain type of magic. Some could control the elements, others were able control the minds of others. No one could predict who would end up with what gift. Fira lowered her head. Unlike the others she found it hard to call on her own magic and many thought she didn't possess any. Her mixed blood already meant that shifting caused her far more pain that the others. As the first guard manacled her hands the other gave an approving nod. Fira kept her head held high. She had known right from the start she wouldn't get getting out of this alive. Had she refused the fight she would have been killed, had she lost she would have died and because she had won by killing her king's heir she would now be executed as a murder.

The unfairness caused a small glimmer of laughter to creep up inside her. But no sooner had that arrived than it vanished. Fira followed her guards back the way they had come. It would be so easy to loop her chains around their necks and snap them. But then what would she do? Getting the keys would waste time and there were bound to be more guards waiting for her.

"Move it bitch."

Nodding Fira hurried forward into the throne room. All around her people gawked and jeered at her. Yet only hours ago these same people had been cheering both her and her victim on during their fight. Fira forced herself to keep her gaze straight ahead. She wouldn't break the king's gaze, not even for a second. The guards forced her to her knees yet she still didn't bow her head.

"You murdered my son." Tharos's voice dripped with ice. Fira forced her face to remain neutral.

"He challenged me to a fight to the death. I hardly think it's fair to call me a murderer when your son knew he could lose."

"How dare you suppose a filthy half breed like you could have defeated my son?"

"Are you saying I cheated then?"

Tharos nodded, "Indeed I am. I believe you cheated in order to secure my son's death."

"I never cheat. I did not need to cheat."

Tharos waved away her comments in dismissal. Fira muttered several curses under her breath as the king nodded.

"Either way your fate has been sealed."

Fira braced herself whilst straightening up as best she could. If she were to die she wouldn't die like a coward. Tharos raised an eyebrow.

"You expect to die? You are very much mistaken Fira."

Fira paused, allowing a hint of doubt to show up on her face. Tharos nodded.

"I have a task for you. An important one. Should you complete it you will be free to live out the rest of your life in exile. Should you fail I will hang your head over this throne for the next two thousand years!"

Fira raised an eyebrow, "What sort of 'task'?"

Tharos settled into his throne and Fira had an uncomfortable feeling about the smile on his face.

"Have you heard about the dwarves of Erebor?"

Fira nodded, "How Smaug took their home from them."

At the mentioned of the dragons name the mood of the crowd turned sour, many even hissed and growled. Despite both being dragons, the Dragonborn people hated those of their kind that couldn't shift. They believed them to be inferior. Fira scratched her wrists and gave Tharos another nod.

"What of it."

"I've heard a rumour that the dwarves are looking to take back their home. Led by Thorin Oakenshield."

"Never heard of him."

"You will soon enough. Our ally wants that mountain and you are going to help us get it."

Fira bit her lip. She'd heard the rumours of Tharos's 'ally' and she didn't like the sound of it one little bit. Tharos nodded.

"You will join their company and gain their trust."

"How? If they're from Erebor they aren't going to react kindly to a dragon in their midst."

"That's for you to sort out," Tharos snapped, "As I was saying. Gain their trust and then, when the time is right, kill them. Each and every one of them. That way the mountain will be ours for the taking."

"Why not take it now? You can deal with Smaug easily."

Tharos nodded, "We could, but our ally wants Oakenshield dealt with," a glint struck his eye,

"Besides, surely you should be jumping at the chance to save your life."

Fira bristled at his tone, "If I refuse."

"You die right where you sit."

Fira didn't even need to feel the sword brushing against the back of her neck. She nodded and Tharos smiled.

"You've chosen wisely."

As her manacles were unlocked Fira got to her feet. Tharos narrowed his eyes.

"You will leave for the Shire tomorrow morning. And before you have any ideas about shifting and abandoning this quest…"

Fira frowned before doubling over in pain. Scream after scream left her lips as hot white pain shot through her whole body. Sinking to her knees she felt her skin itch and burn. Tharos carried on speaking the words in the Old Language whilst Fira clawed at the ground.

And then suddenly the pain left her. Taking deep breaths Fira sat up and Tharos nodded.

"Should you try and shift you will experience what you have just been through. Only when you bring me Oakenshields head will your power be given back to you."

Fira looked down at her hands. What had once been clear, smooth skin was now burnt and scarred beyond repair. Shakily getting to her feet she nodded at her king.

"I will not fail you."

Night had fallen long before Fira had set up camp. Out of habit she rubbed her burnt hands. It had taken her a good month to get from her home to here, plenty of time for the burns to heal as best they could. But to avoid any questions she'd opted for a pair of black gloves to be worn at all times. She had of course tried to shift, just to see if Tharos had been telling the truth.

She wasn't going to try again.

Swallowing the last mouthful of her soup she pushed the bowls back into her bag. She reckoned she had only a day or two until she reached the Shire. What she would say to Thorin when she found him was a complete mystery. Supposing he saw right through her? Supposing he knew she was a Dragonborn and killed her on the spot?

Shaking her head Fira moved to get her blanket out when a howl pierced the air. Instantly her two knives were out and she jumped to her feet. Since travelling she had come across no orcs packs, but that didn't mean there weren't any about. Wielding her blades Fira tightened her grip as a huge warg emerged from the trees. In the dark she could see little more than a vague outline. But she could see its eyes, glowing bright red. Emitting a small growl she shut her own eyes before re opening them. As expected she still had the ability to show her dragon eye. The warg whined and moved back. Fira gave a slow nod.

"That's it. Back you go. Back to wherever you came from."

For a second she thought she might have succeeded. But a growl to her right told her she was wrong. Two more wargs leapt out of hiding and as another crept up on her left Fira shook her head, bringing her human eyes back into focus. One warg she could have dealt with. Two would have been fine. But four? Gripping her blades Fira eyed each animal carefully. One darted forward only to jump back as she sliced the air by its leg.

"Back! Get back!"

Fira wondered what she was meant to do now. Wargs she might be able to deal with. But she enough to know that when wargs were close so were orcs. Sure enough the two wargs on her right moved aside to allow three huge figures through. Fira gripped her blades as her resolve began to weaken. Now that she couldn't shift she felt the fear creeping up on her. The fattest orc nodded in her direction.

"Take her!"

"I don't think so." Slashing at the closest warg Fira jumped onto its back and sunk her blade into its back. Its dead body dropped to the ground but she was already moving towards the next one. This one jumped right over her and before she could spin round to deal with it another slammed into her side and knocked her to the ground. Winded Fira tried to stab its leg but both arms were trapped under the animal's huge mass. It snapped at her neck whilst the orcs circled her.

"The Master wants to see her."

Fira frowned at this. How did these orcs know who she was? She had no time to find out. The second the warg moved away from her the fattest orc leant over her and punched her square the face. Her head slammed against the hard ground and Fira felt an urge to be sick. The world grew hazy around the edges and she was only half aware of the orc draping her over its shoulder before she succumbs to the growing darkness.

Hope this is a good enough start to get people interested. Whilst this is another Kili/OC quest fic it's not just going to be a repeat of my other one I promise. This one is a lot different I can tell you. Let me know what you all think xxx