Bright Shine

Upon the horizon the sun's light came forth, bathing the Desolation of Smaug and skirt of Erebor in golden light. The battle had been won by the skin of the warriors' teeth. However, as Coruwen and the healers emerged from their tent answering the call of horses one could not help but feel a sense of dread lingering over the head of the warriors. Coruwen's heart tightened in concern when she saw Legolas ride up to her.

"What happened?" Coruwen asked. Legolas avoided her gaze, his grey eyes dark with grief. Worry bloomed in her heart as she took his hand, attempting to get words out of him. Her hand gripped his tightly, and as his gaze rose from the ground she caught the graveness in his fair face and grey eyes. "Legolas, tell me."

He shook his head. "I have not the heart to, my lady." He whispered.

Frustration lashed out in her as she snapped at him. "Tell me!" Pieces of her gold hair fell in her eyes, which were clouded by grief and dread. Her current state of mind was being ravaged by sadness' vice like grip on her heart and soul. Her knees buckled, swiping her world out from under her, but Legolas caught her in his arms. Her hands and body shook as she forced away tears. "Legolas, I beg of you, tell me…"

The prince raised his gaze upward, searching for an idea. Pity was hard on him as he looked down at his broken friend. He pulled her up, and felt her fingers lace at the base of his neck as she regained her footing. "Bring Faenaur with you," He whispered.

Her hands and small frame wracked with dreadful nerves; she was being claimed by a horrid sovereign. His gloved hands encompassed her shaking ones in an attempt to soothe her pain. Her blue eyes met his grey ones as she searched his face. Coruwen saw pity in his eyes, deeply etched pity. His true feelings were showing in his eyes for he was worried for his father.

"Faenaur, come!" Coruwen yelled over her shoulder. Faenaur cantered up to them, and tossed his head to the prince and lady in greeting. Legolas mounted the horse, and pulled Coruwen up behind him. She wrapped her arms around him, placing an ear on his back as he spurred the horse onward.

Before them stood a dark haired elf, one resembling Calenfaire a great deal in fact. He was dressed in silver armor with a dark green cloak upon his shoulders. His azure eyes narrowed when he saw the prince come riding up to him.

"I cannot let you ride off to the battlefield again, my lord," the elf stated clearly.

"By whose order, Himon?" Legolas replied trying to sound curt with the general. Himon snorted and tapped his fingers on the pommel of his sword.

"Fine, I'll let you go," Himon grumbled. He let out a whistle and three other elf warriors appeared, all three appearing to be ample enough to move around. "Be careful, Prince Legolas."

Coruwen watched as men mounted horses to follow them, and as they rode out of the camp she felt a dread creep across her skin once more. Faenaur's hooves sloshed against the wet earth that had been quenched with blood and rain water. They traveled across the Desolation of Smaug, where the Great Wyrm had been hewn from the sky by a single arrow. Coruwen's gaze watched the bodies of passing orcs, goblins, dwarves, elves, and Men appear before her. One of them was a mighty orc, broad and had been armed with a club, had been pierced by thousands of Elven arrows making it appear like an overused pincushion.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked as they leapt over a fallen troll. She could not hear his voice on the wind, but instead could hear it through his chest. Subconsciously, her grip tightened around him. "I'm taking that as a no."

"So much death… However did you make it out without so much as a scratch?" Coruwen muttered.

"I could lie and tell you it was nothing… However, that would be a lie. I can honestly say that it must've been the Blessing of Illuvatar." Legolas replied.

Coruwen shut her eyes as a quiver raced down her spine. In her heart, she was happy he was alive. However, she could not bear it if another one of her allies had been killed because of war's sovereignty. The mangled bodies of elves and men made her stomach twisted painfully. She could've been out here fighting to help… If only she hadn't been taken down by the White Warg.. Once more her life was filled with 'only if's'.

"Ouch, be careful," Legolas yelped.

Coruwen loosened her death grip on him, and she shrunk back to the best she could. The blurring bodies of allies passed her, but she saw none that were familiar in the slightest. Faenaur came to halt upon a raised slope overlooking the vast landscape of the skirt of Erebor. Legolas dismounted, and helped her down.

"We are looking for the nephews of Thorin. If you find them quickly take them back to camp," Coruwen ordered. Legolas dipped his head to her and ran off into the sea of dead bodies that had accumulated over the course of a slow day. She heard the other elves that had traveled with them whisper amongst themselves as they searched the bodies of countless others. Through the fray of people Coruwen spied Dwarven warriors, and she ran towards them.

Sadly as she approached she took in their faces, all contorted into anguish and despair. Many had great wounds upon their bodies and red blood splattered out from the wounds like paint. Disgust wrenched her stomach as she passed them by, unable to bear the looks of fear any longer. The ground was coated in a layer of pitch black blood and red; the colors swirling together along with rain water spread the paint of war across the land.

Coruwen's eyes scanned the ground for anything that would bring the boys to her attention. Nothing just bodies, hundreds and hundreds of dead bodies. Her dread grew into a maniacal fear as she flicked her eyes to patches of unmarred earth. Something passed in her vision that lightened her heart a great deal.

Gold hair.

"Faenaur, follow," Coruwen said as she patted her thigh. Speed came to her as she ran towards picture she had seen. The horse and rider wove through trolls and fallen bats to find Fili lying on the ground. His breathing was shallow, and barely noticed to even her Elven eyes.

"Fili," Coruwen whispered stroking his hair. His blue eyes fluttered open, and a faint smile came to his lips. "Thank Varda, you're not dead." Coruwen turned her attention to Faenaur, who raked the ground with one hoof. "Get Fili onto your back, Faenaur."

The horse kneeled down to the dwarf's level, and with the help of his rider, Fili was up on the stallion's back. He clutched the white mane of Faenaur in one bloodied hand, and he let out a raspy cough drawing Coruwen's attention.

"Where's Kili?" Coruwen asked stroking his back.

"Over there," Fili whispered hoarsely. He motioned to a fallen orc archer with a gesture of his head. Coruwen's heart lightened a second time when she ran over to find Kili lying on his side with his bow inches from his fingers.

Coruwen knelt before him and turned him so he was on his back. Kili let out a howl of pain as she turned him. Her hands shook as she took his face, her thumbs running across his cheeks. His honey colored eyes brightened up at the sight of her.

"Coruwen…" Kili muttered.

"I'm going to help you get up onto Faenaur. Do not try to move around too much, understand?" She told him. Kili gave her a short nod. "Faenaur, to me."

The horse walked up to Coruwen and kneeled down to her level so she could help Kili up onto the horse. Her heart was light for once, yet at the same time it was ungodly heavy. As she sent Faenaur away with the boys, she couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. The wind tossed her gold hair around and sent the smell of rotting flesh to her senses.

"Where's Thorin?" Coruwen whispered as sadness gripped her heart. Nervously, her eyes darted around searching for the dwarf king. She shut her eyes as tears began to sting them. That did not stop a tear from slipping from her eyes. "Please, do not be dead."

"Coruwen!" Legolas' voice called.

She whirled around and saw him standing on top of a troll, his gaze flicking around for her. She calmed herself before walking up to him, but still her heart writhed in grief. Legolas leapt down and took her shoulders tightly, his grey eyes searching her face.

"What is the matter?" Legolas asked.

Coruwen brushed off his grip. "Have you received any news from the camp since we have ventured out here?" She inquired.

"That is not answering my question... I asked if something was the matter." Legolas said firmly. "And to answer you, yes I have."

"Nothing is the matter, Legolas…" Coruwen replied. Her head hung low for a moment, and she felt Legolas slip his hand into hers and give it a reassuring squeeze. "What news has arrived?"

"The King under the Mountain was given to the healers…" Coruwen's eyes went wide as she turned to face him. Upon her face was happiness and relief. "They do not know if he will make it, but they said he is faring better than they originally planned."

"Then let us be on our way." He saw a smile pass across her face, and he nodded. The two were given a horse to ride back on, and thus they returned to the encampment with haste. Legolas and Coruwen spied many healers filing in and out of a dark grey tent, but what truly caught their attention was Faenaur, who stood vigil outside of the tent.

Coruwen picked up her skirts and ran towards the tent but was stopped by a staff being held to her midsection. Gandalf eyed her curiously from his position beside the tent, and Coruwen caught the fearful look in the Istar's eyes. Her mind immediately thought of the worst possible outcome. Her hands balanced on Gandalf's staff and the wizard lowered it as he watched the elleth before him.

"My lady, what troubles you?" Gandalf asked quietly. So quiet that it almost sounded as if he were unsure of her mental state.

"Thorin is lost, Mithrandir…" Coruwen whispered as her throat tightened in sorrow.

Gandalf tipped up his hat feeling rather silly for saying this. "I sure hope he isn't… He's been awfully rambunctious for someone who got hit with a spiked cub in the side." Gandalf said in disbelief. Coruwen's heart leapt for joy at Gandalf's words. "The stubbornness of the dwarves is ever faithful."

Thorin was alive… Her heart lifted the hefty weight free of itself, and it then proceeded to beat happily within her chest. Her hand rested upon her heart in relief. Gandalf placed a hand on her head and gave it a reassuring pat. At the sight of the lady being in relief, Gandalf too felt in burst in his own heart.

"Kili and Fili were injured greatly, but in time they will wake," Gandalf told Coruwen. She did not face him, but instead gave him a nod. Coruwen saw Naruhel come out of the tent with her brown eyes shining happily. "That is the last of the healers…"

"You helped them?" Coruwen asked.

"Not I, my lady," Gandalf gestured to a sight that was considered rare. A pass of dark brown wavy locks came to her vision and the sway of light blue cloth. Arwen. "Elrond sent his daughter to heal them."

Coruwen smiled faintly. Arwen had gone off to Lórien during her departure from Imladris making her close enough to reach them. Coruwen ran up to Arwen, throwing her arms around her friend's neck. Arwen laughed as Coruwen hugged her.

"It is good to see you too, my friend," Arwen greeted taking Coruwen's hands in her own. The two smiled at each other. Arwen, like the twins, resembled Elrond a great deal with his dark hair and grey eyes. However, her eyes weren't as stern as Elrond's typically were. She had her mother's porcelain skin and pretty smile. But no smile came to the Lady Arwen's face, it was solemn. "They are not awake having merely graced death's grip."

Coruwen's stomach knotted painfully. "Arwen, will you stay with me while I keep an eye on them?" She asked.

Arwen's grey eyes became curious. "Yes, I will."

The two elves returned to the tent to find an unconscious Thorin, Kili, Fili, and Bilbo. Fili and Kili, out of the four had the worst injuries. Bloodied gauze covered their shoulders and chests. The younger dwarf has broken into a fever, and slept still, unmoved by the poison that had once ran through his veins. Fili had been poisoned as well, but most of the poison had been removed by an antidote fixed by the Elves.

Then Coruwen saw Thorin, who had worry lines etched into his brow as he slept. Across his chest were bandages, but Arwen said he had received arrows shot into his shoulder and side. A spiked club had cut his side deeply.

Finally, Bilbo had received a good conk on the head from a goblin with a rock. It certainly made his ears ring, but now he was unconscious. Coruwen came to sit in a chair in at the bed side of Thorin, and Arwen came to sit beside her, watching the others with anticipation.

"By Eru this is horrible," Coruwen whispered.

Arwen watched her with pity gleaming in her grey eyes. The sorrow coming from her friend was strong. Arwen reached up to grab a section of Coruwen's gold hair, but stopped when Bilbo groaned in his sleep.

"The Hobbit stirs," Arwen said as she walked over to Bilbo.

Coruwen saw his brown eyes fluttered open and he mumbled something in a hoarse voice. Arwen moved a cup of water to his lips and he drank the water she provided. Slowly, Bilbo spoke. "Coruwen, you're here."

"Yes, my perian. I never left you," She replied with a sad smile. Bilbo smiled weakly while rubbing the bump on his head.

"Lie back down or you'll become dizzy again," Arwen instructed firmly.

Bilbo complied and fell back into sleep once more. Arwen returned to Coruwen and started to braid her gold hair into intercut braids. It was soothing to the elleth as her friend worked meticulously on her hair. Arwen loved her hair; she said so herself many years ago.

And there the two stayed for a long while watching over the four.

As the sun rose the next day, Coruwen found that Bilbo was upright with inquisitive eyes searching the tent. Arwen had moved during that period of time to check upon the dwarves. The elleth was placing a cool cloth on Kili's forehead, and rechecked the stitches in his shoulder.

"There you two are," Ori's voice said in relief. Coruwen turned her head to see Ori, Dori, Balin, and Dwalin standing in the tent's entrance. "We thought you two got lost or something."

Coruwen watched the four enter the tent taking up places in various parts of the room. Ori sat at the base of her chair, flipping through the pages of his books. Occasionally, his brown eyes would flick up to watch Arwen move around the tent. After a long while, Oín came into the tent to check up on Thorin and the boys bearing news.

"Dain is carrying the affairs of our people until these three come too…" Oín said as he cleaned the wound on Thorin's left shoulder. Coruwen saw the black stitches in her beloved's shoulder and the gash on his side. "Freya refuses to move from Erebor until a decision is made upon who will rule the mountain."

"Stubborn dragon," Coruwen muttered. "It would make sense for her to not depart the mountain but if it is making a problem with Dain, I can force her to leave."

Balin chuckled, drawing her attention to the elder dwarf. "In all honesty, it would be best for Dain to stay his place in the mountain. However, if Freya would comply with just moving that would be a breakthrough."

"That I can probably force on her," Coruwen replied as she twirled the tail of one of her braids. "I will speak to Freya in a few days once Bard moves his people back to Esgaroth."

"Dain will be driven mad," Dori said under his breath. Coruwen smiled, shaking her head, at the dwarf. Arwen came to sit in her chair, her fingers knitting together tightly. "You must be the Lady Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond."

Arwen's gaze fell on Dori, and she gave him an incline of her head. Coruwen watched as Arwen spoke with the dwarves seeming to be rather calm in their presence. Her mind wandered to the motionless king beside her. It seemed every time her gaze fell on him, he was paler and his breathing becoming faint. It was heart wrenching to behold. Had Arwen not been present with her for the elongated period of time she surely would've broken down out of despair.

Arwen wrapped a hand around Coruwen's own. The lady's hands were soft and smooth, not roughened or marred by the use of weaponry. Though Coruwen knew she had held such hands before; Arwen had held Elrond's and Aragorn's hands before. Coruwen's hands had tremors racing through them, but were soothed by Arwen's thumbs running across her thin finger bones.

Oín hovered over Fili tapping his forehead with two fingers. Coruwen focused her attention away from her nervous behaviors with watching Oín observe Fili and Kili. Coruwen's dress was tugged on by a couple of fingers belonging to Ori, who looked up at her with intent written across his young face.

"Lady Arwen would you let me draw you?" Ori asked in a meek voice. Coruwen smiled as Arwen gave him a short nod, and he saw his face brighten up with a smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Master Dwarf," Arwen replied patting his head softly. The lady's grey eyes came to Coruwen's face, in which she saw grief and forced happiness. "What upsets you?"

Coruwen shut her eyes and they reopened to watch the ground. "The state of these three bothers me greatly… I do not know if they will make it." Coruwen replied as her voice cracked in sadness. Arwen sighed, shaking her head at her friend. "They are my allies… My friends... Would you not do the same for Estel?"

"I would," Arwen whispered. "But they are dwarves, Coruwen. You do not belong in their race. They are not to whom you belong… What would your father say if he were here?"

Coruwen's eyes narrowed in disbelief. "Do not use my father like that. He would trust my logic even if it is a bit irrational."

Anger boiled in her veins for her temper was growing short. This was caused by pent up stress, dread, and sadness. Never before had she felt this mixture of feelings all rolling within her soul; and it grew as Arwen spoke. Out of irritation, Coruwen departed the tent with a swift gait.

As her anger quelled itself within her body, Coruwen felt the anger subside into grief. Her knees buckled forcing her to the ground in a fit of confused anger and sadness. Her hands clutched her dress, twisting it into swirls of tightened black cloth. Tears fell from her eyes as she wept. Her mind was fed up with being confused, slowly being tortured by the sight of Thorin, Kili, and Fili broken before her when she could do nothing. She was forced to watch them fade before her; what little life they clung to slowly peeling away like the edges of aged books.

"Damn war to the farthest reaches of the sea!" Coruwen cursed as she shook her head. "Why must it take?" He voice was slowly being swallowed up by grief's seductive song. "Why Eru?"

"They aren't dead yet," a voice grumbled. Coruwen's gaze slid sideways to Bofur, whose floppy hat was removed and his pipe away. He was haggard from his appearance, his face slightly pale and his normally playful glint that always lingered in his eyes was gone. "You shouldn't worry so much, Coruwen."

"Bofur," Coruwen managed through her constricting throat. "I feel as if I have lost them…"

Bofur scoffed as he came to sit beside her. His gaze softened as he took in her broken state. "Pretty lass like you doesn't need to cry." Bofur said. He patted her back, giving her some fraction of hope to bubble up in her heart. "You should know out of all of us, the stubbornness of Thorin and the boys. They won't go down without a lot of fight. It's how they have always been."

Coruwen chuckled faintly at Bofur's words that were, sadly, true. "Thorin mostly… Bull headed idiot."

"And I know that he wouldn't leave this world without telling you goodbye. He would haunt Erebor until he got it out, let me tell you."

Coruwen saw in Bofur a look of dead seriousness. He wasn't kidding like the giddy toymaker he was. No, this was the serious side of the toymaker, who was actually quite blunt when it came down to it. He continued on speaking, "I have a bet with Bifur and Bombur that Thorin will be the first one awake. He's got a girl waiting for after all, and well Erebor isn't gonna fix herself."

"Not with the way Freya has been holding up everything."

Bofur plopped his hat on his head lazily, a crooked grin coming to his face. "I never thought I'd like a dragon, but Freya… She's pretty nice, good protector, awfully beautiful, and got a good funny bone in her body."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she played Bifur for a fool the other day… Made him chase little escaped critters all over Erebor, turns out they were mechanical and would return if they started breaking down."

"How long did that take him?" Slowly, Coruwen felt her sadness alleviate itself from her heart as Bofur spoke to her. He was rather excellent at keeping others' attention on him and away from havoc. A trait she wished other people had.

Bofur pursed his lips in thought. "Oh, I'd say about three hours. Freya played stupid the entire time… Best prank I've seen in a long time."

"I see." Coruwen took her eyes off of Bofur to turn it to Smaug's lifeless corpse that still sat upon the ground but with an ever growing flock of carrions overhead. "Bofur, would you do thing for me?"

"Anything lass, just name it."

"If you ever have the time… Could you bring me one of Smaug's scales?"

Bofur looked at her in mild shock. He wasn't sure of her request, but gave her an answer. "What would you need one of those for, if you don't mind me prying?"

"I have one of Freya's scales. I think it would be nice to have one of Smaug's."

Bofur gave her a curt nod. The toymaker stood and sauntered off to do that which Coruwen had asked of him. Before she got out of his sight he peered over his shoulder to see if she was breaking down again. All Bofur could see was the stark difference in her gold hair to the dress she wore, as both rested motionless on top of the other.

"The lad is lucky…" Bofur murmured under his breath as he descended down the hill. He wandered through the camp for a spell before finding the perfect moment to grab one of Smaug's scales, which was oddly slick between his fingers. The scale was marred by dried blood and dirt, but it was no bigger than the dwarf's palm.

Bofur slipped the scale into his pocket as he returned to the camp to find Coruwen. He understood the elf's distraught nature; the wounds received by those three were grave practically fatal. Bofur thought the only reason they were still on this earth was because the elves had found them relatively early after the battle. Beorn had drawn Thorin away quickly after Bolg had smashed his club into the king's side.

Out of the healer tent came an elleth that startled Bofur on his hunt for Coruwen. Her hair was long, dark with waves, but sadly she moved so quick that he couldn't get a good look at her. After getting over the fact that an elf had spooked him, he entered the tent to see Kili sitting upright with Oín hovering over him.

Bofur smiled slightly at the sight of the young lad alert and awake, but deep in his mind he was uttering every curse in Khuzdul because of his loss. He watched as Kili rubbed the wounds on his shoulders and chest, but halted when Oín glared at him.

The tent flapped moved aside as the elleth from earlier appeared with Coruwen behind her. It was then that Bofur got a good look at this woman. Stormy grey eyes were set into a pretty face formed of porcelain skin and soft expression. She was a bit taller than Coruwen and their hair was the same length. This woman seemed familiar to Bofur… But how, was the question.

"Coruwen, Lady Arwen," Kili said before he let out a raspy cough. Coruwen moved to his side to place her hand on his back.

Arwen… Daughter of Lord Elrond, that's where Bofur has seen her. She was in Imladris when they had arrived. He watched as Arwen moved to Kili's side as he continued to cough, and it slowly turned into a bark like cough. Coruwen let Arwen help him, but Bofur saw the lady's eyes flick over to Thorin before she turned to face her friend. It broke the toymaker's heart to see her like this.

The rasp, bark like cough Kili had obtained was not soothed easily because Arwen and Oín bustled around the tent grabbing certain herbs. Mind you, they about knocked over Ori in their panicked search which warranted a yelp of surprise from him when Arwen accidently knocked a book over. Oín rubbed a salve on Kili's chest to calm the cough, and it worked after a few minutes allowing the lad to breathe. Though Kili's voice was scratchy from coughing a great deal, he spoke.

"What happened?" Kili asked.

"What all do you remember?" Balin inquired taking a place at the young dwarf's side.

Kili looked between the people in the room, and slowly he thought over what memories remained of the battle in his mind. "From what I remember, all I can seem to think of is seeing Uncle getting smashed with the club by Bolg. What actually happened?"

"That part you have in memory is correct. However, Beorn took Thorin away from the fight, and Bolg was killed by Gwaihir and Freya. In fact, those two did a great deal of damage to the battle field, wiping out a number of enemies before Beorn cleaned out everything else." Balin told him. Kili's eyes fell on his brother, who was still unconscious in the bed beside him. Dread and sadness crept up on Kili's face as he shut his eyes from the sight. "The two of you are lucky to be alive in all honesty. The wounds you received are of greater damage than those received by Thorin."

"Uncle is still alive?"

"Aye, but not awake sadly."

"Damn…"

Balin placed a hand on Kili's good shoulder, silently assuring him everything would be fine. Never before had Kili looked so solemn in the eyes of others. His eyes were a shade of dark gold, and his brown hair hung in his eyes. Despite having the worst condition, Kili was oddly alert. The others slowly came to be near Kili as he slowly recovered from his somber behavior.

Kili noticed Coruwen staying away from him the entire time the others flocked around him. Her face was pale, almost ghostly, and her hair hung over one side of her fair face. As Oín shooed the others away, he took notice of Kili's behavior. That or it was plain as day on his face and he didn't know it.

"Coruwen, could you come over here?" Oín asked, smiling wryly.

Kili watched Coruwen's blue eyes flick up to Oín, and she nodded. When Coruwen approached him, he took note of her appearance. Her eyes were rimmed with red from lack of sleep. Stress is heavy upon the elves when it comes to them… It was a terrible thing to behold in those who were experiencing it. Coruwen sat on the edge of Kili's bed, and gingerly he took her hand in his good one.

Oín left Kili's bedside to speak with Arwen, and he gave Coruwen's hand a good squeeze. "It'll be ok…" Kili whispered, meeting her eyes. Coruwen looked at him, shocked. "Uncle and Fili will make it out just fine. They're fighters."

Coruwen smiled wearily. "I know they are… I just wish they'd wake up."

"That'll happen soon enough, and then we'll want both of them out of our hair." Kili let out a small chuckle that was followed by a cough. "Am I right?"

"Kili, you shouldn't hurt yourself like that…" Coruwen passed a hand across his dark hair that resembled Thorin's a great deal. Her smile faded into a thin line of concern. "Yes, you are right. Soon enough it will come, but it is waiting that I do not desire."

"No one does, silly." He carefully lowered himself back down into the comfort of the blankets, but felt pain lance through his system like a blast of fire. A growl escaped him, but felt two cold hands wrap around his good shoulder and push him down slowly. He regarded her fondly with bright gold eyes. "Uncle told me you sing quite nicely…" Coruwen traced his hair line and drowsiness prodded him. "Would you sing, just this once?"

Coruwen nodded as continued to trace his hairline with feathery fingertips that oddly soothed his anxious nerves and lancing pain. His eyelids became heavy as she sang a song, low and sweet to him. As her song faded into a sea of murmurs, muffled by sleep he heard a second voice chime in that sounded a bit higher in pitch than that being used. However, he wasn't going to fight the sleep that took a hold of his body, and slowly sunk into the embrace of it.

A/N: And that was the first chapter to Son of Durin. For those, who are bit confused and need a bit of clearing things up look up the prequel, A Marchwarden's Daughter. Hope you guys liked it, and are looking forward to more.

Please Review.