Title: Daughter of Destruction
Author: Latina44870
Rating: M for mature content.
Warnings: Grief, despair, med. Violence, some sexual situations in later chapters.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. It all belongs to the amazing Tolkien. I am just a humble fan of his work. This is for my own enjoyment and hopefully yours too.
Pairings: This story will eventually pair Fili/Farrah but will include Kili, Thorin, Dis, Dwalin, Balin as other main characters.
Author's Note: *IMPORTANT* This story does NOT follow the hobbit books/movies completely. I have changed dates and things to fit MY story. I know they are not correct according to Tolkien's works but these are done intentionally so pointing them out is not needed. Thank you.
Summary: Farrah watched helplessly as her mother burned alive when Smaug the terrible took over her homeland of Erebor. Hardened by that loss she grieved alone and pushed everyone away from her. Can Fili break thru her barriers and win her love? Also, a great prophecy is revealed. All the souls of Smaug's victims are trapped within the fire drake's body. Only his destruction can release them to a peaceful afterlife. The prophecy foretells of a Fire Walker, one who does not burn but masters the flames of destruction. Can the Dwarves find this fire walker and reclaim their homeland and allow their loved ones to finally rest in peace?
The heat was unbearable. It was the only thing she could feel or think of at that moment. It felt as if the very flesh was melting off of her bones. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came. She was utterly lost in her pain and in her fear. This was how her nights were. Horrible memories and recollections of the worst day of her life. The day when the dragon Smaug, took from her the single most important thing in her world; her mother.
Farrah awoke with her heart racing and gasping for breath. She could almost still smell the thick smoke and her eyes and lungs burned with it. "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real," she cried to herself over and over and she held her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth in her bed. Tears poured from her eyes and the pain in her heart wrenching sobs were enough to awaken her father. Like every other night in her life since losing their home and the woman who loved them, he came to her and pulled her into his arms. He held her in the dark sometimes for hours until she cried herself back to sleep. He wanted to take the nightmares away from her but he could not. He did not have that power to do so. All he could do was to hold her and love her and reassure her that he was there even if her mother was not.
It was on these nights, that he thought back to the day of the tragedy; the day that Smaug came to take over their homeland of Erebor. The day he lost the only woman he had ever loved. Celesta was beautiful. Her long pale blonde hair hung in waves down over her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes were always so kind and loving. What she had seen in him he did not know, but he was forever thankful that he had her love, even if it had not been nearly long enough.
He looked down at his daughter who had fallen back asleep in his arms. She had been only six at the time of their greatest loss. She had been a child of laughter and of love, as carefree as her mother had been. But, that all had changed. Now, sixty years had come to pass and she was a young woman. She had her mother's beauty, of that there was no doubt. The same long pale blonde hair hung around her shoulders and the same blue eyes. But that was where the similarities ended. Celesta had been kind and caring. Farrah was hard, cold, and fierce. He blamed all of this on the loss of her mother. She had hardened her heart over the long years since their loss. Sure, he knew she loved him but she had put up a strong wall of defense around her very heart and soul to all others. It was in this way that she hoped to keep everyone else away, because if she did not allow herself to love anyone, then she would not feel such loss when they were gone.
He carefully laid his daughter back down on her bed and pulled the covers up around her. She seemed to be resting peacefully again and he hoped that the nightmares would not return. He kissed her tear stained cheek and turned to leave her room taking one last glance at his daughter. They had both lost the woman they loved but he knew he had to remain strong for her. With a silent prayer to Vala Aulë, Dwalin turned and left the room.
Morning came and he found Farrah preparing breakfast in the kitchen. Neither of them spoke a word of the night before; as usual. They preferred not to talk about it and this is how it had always been and how they planned to keep it. It was their pain and their grief to bear. A knock at the door ended the silence and Dwalin got up to answer it. "Hello brother," he said as he moved aside to allow Balin to enter.
"Good morning you two," Balin replied as he came inside the stone dwelling they called home. He looked at his niece and noticed the dark under eyes. He knew all about torment but he also knew not to mention it. "Smells good in here."
Farrah gave her uncle a small smile as she plated up some food for him and set it beside her father's. "There is plenty Uncle Balin I hope you are hungry."
"You know me lassie. I am always hungry." He replied with a laugh as he dug in. Farrah smiled at the two men she loved. They were all she had left in this world. The last two people who had a part of her heart.
She watched the two of them eat their breakfast whole she cleaned up the tiny kitchen. She was lost in her thoughts when she noticed both of them looking at her. "What?"
"Balin was just asking us if we were going to the end of summer feast that Thorin is hosting?" Dwalin repeated for her.
"You should go," she said nodding at her father.
"You BOTH, should go," Balin interrupted. "It would do you good to get out of the house Farrah."
"I am not much in the way of parties and socializing," she said flatly with a frown. "Haven't you two given up by now?"
Dwalin got up and went to his daughter. He put his hands on her shoulders to turn her to look at him. "You are young Farrah and you are beautiful. You should be having fun. Laughing and dancing and meeting nice young dwarves. You are nearing the age of majority and you should think about settling down soon. Thorin's nephews will be there. You have not seen them in so long and they used to be your friends."
"Father, you know I have no interest in them or any other. I do not wish to socialize or have fun. I just want to be left alone."
Dwalin sighed and pulled his daughter into a hug. "You need to move on. We both lost her and nothing we do will bring her back."
"Easy for you to say," Farrah retorted. "How have you moved on? You go do your work everyday, drink everynight, and pass out. What fun do you have father?"
Dwalin looked at his daughter. He could not deny her words. They were true. He turned to his brother hoping he could shed some words of wisdom and Balin did not disappoint. "Why don't you both make a pact? Begin to live your lives again. You should both go with me to Thorin's feast."
Farrah face took on that hard look that Dwalin knew only too well. Her beauty she had gotten from her mother but her stubborn nature was all from him. "Stop it," he said before she went into full on stubborn mode. "I will do this if you will too."
She looked from one dwarf to the other. Both had a glimmer of hope in their eyes and she did not want to squash it. "I will do this if it will make you both happy."
She did not want any part of it. The happy people dancing and singing, the merriment, the laughter. She knew it would be hard for her to get thru the evening but she had told them she would do it. "You both will owe me big time," she said with a sigh as she went to her room. She could hear the chuckles her words had caused and she had to admit, they were good to hear. She dearly loved her father and her Uncle Balin.
She went to her closet and looked at the things she had hanging up. There was not much choice. She usually wore her tunic and leggings with her boots everyday and she had several sets of that particular outfit combination and not much else. When had she last worn a dress? She thought for a moment and could not recollect even one memory of doing so. She did not have a dress because dresses were just so impractical in her life. She helped her father do several jobs and doing them in a dress was not an option. Neither was sparring with her father when he was teaching her to fight or when she went pony riding. No, dresses were not a part of her life. "I guess a trip to the market is in order," she sighed and wondered if it was not too late for her to get out of this. She really did NOT want to go. She was tired from lack of sleep and she did not wish to see any of her old friends. Sure, she had seen some of them passing thru town but she always went out of her way to avoid anyone who might want to talk to her. It was just easier that way. So, how would it be when she was surrounded by everyone at the feast?
She went to her bed and sat down on it a tear already forming in her eye. She had grown up so alone. No mother to hold her or to teach her things. Girl things that only a mother knew. Her father was amazing and he had taught her make weapons, to fight, and to be brave. But the limited cooking skills she had were self taught and she knew nothing of dancing and socializing and most of all talking to males. "Mother why did you have to go away," she whispered to the empty room. It was as empty as her heart felt…
