Mary sat astride her pony, scanning the land ahead, her hazel eyes missing nothing. On a misty morning like today, she could easily be mistaken for a phantom. Dressed all in gray and riding a dappled gray pony. Only her long, dark, red hair, braided to just below her shoulder blades, gave her away. She was scouting ahead; making sure the road was safe for her family, who were following about two miles behind. She had volunteered to scout ahead, impatient with the covered wagon that was moving slower than usual, due to the muddy roads.

She never got too far ahead, knowing her parents would worry. These lands, some twenty miles southeast of the city of Dale, were not the safest. Orcs were known to roam these parts, but Mary had learned the hard way to never be caught unarmed. She was well prepared, armed with a bow and arrows at her side, elfish long blades on her back, small throwing knives on her belt, and four poisoned daggers in her boots, she was ready to defend her family and herself at a moments notice.

A cold wind blew up the hill, off of the lake that she had just reached. She pulled her worn cloak closer around her. It was late February, not the best time of year for traveling, but since the incident in the Iron Hills three years ago, her family had been constantly on the move. Just thinking about it made the large scar on her back burn. Mary shook her head, trying to clear her mind. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. She turned around and rode back to meet up with the others. A decision needed to be made. Mary knew which way she wanted to go and was thinking of how to convince everyone, when the sound of the wagon coming up the road broke her thoughts.

Her step-father must have gotten the tired ponies pulling the covered wagon to go faster than was expected, they had caught up to Mary faster then she had anticipated. Donald, her older brother, rode up to her. "What's it look like ahead?" he asked.

"We have reached the southeastern shores of the Long Lake," Mary replied, "But a decision needs to be made."

Donald looked at her and nodded. Their younger brother, Joseph, rode up then, and Donald told him Mary's report. Facially, they resembled each other, but that was where the similarities ended. Donald was short and stocky, favoring their dwarf ancestors. Joseph was taller and thinner, favoring their elf ancestors. Mary, however, seemed to be a combination of both. Both brothers had brown hair and all three siblings had fair skin and hazel eyes. It was their hazel eyes that gave away the small trace of human ancestry in their bloodline. They were, as they referred to it, people of mixed race. But more crude people referred to them as half-breeds.

All three turned and rode back to the waiting wagon. Mary's pony, Silver Mist, nickered to the ponies pulling the covered wagon. Mary's mother and step-father were on the front seat, her step-father at the reins. He was human with black hair and brown eyes. A kind man who did what he could for his family, having raised her from a young age, her father having died years before, Mary knew she could trust and respect him.

Mary looked at her parents and said, "A decision needs to be made. We could try to find a ferry to take us across the lake to Esgaroth and hope they will help us, or we can go with my plan."

"Going into Erebor and stealing is suicide, Mary!" Mother exclaimed; a short, stocky woman with graying black hair and hazel eyes- like her eldest son, she favored their dwarf ancestors.

"Aunt Mary!" a little voice called from the wagon. Three little faces looked out from behind her parents, her nephews and niece.

"It's alright, Kaylee; Nana and I are just talking," Mary said.

Mary's heart constricted at seeing how thin the children were getting. Ever since the incident in the Iron Hills, finding and keeping work had been difficult.

"Mom, we need food and gold to barter safe passage through Mirkwood," Mary said. "You know I hate stealing, but I will not sit here and watch my family starve when there is something I can do!"

"What if you get caught?!" Mother argued. "From what I hear, Thorin Oakenshield is not merciful when it comes to thieves!"

"Then I will just have to not get caught!" Mary answered flippantly.

"Why don't we stop here, make some breakfast and discuss this," Joseph broke in.

Mary ground her teeth. While she could thank her elfish ancestors for her keen eyesight and lightness of foot, it was from her dwarf side that she got her temper. "Make breakfast with what!" she yelled. "We have no meat, only a few moldering vegetables and that's it! We finished the last of the lembas and can look to get no more for quite awhile!" Mary dismounted and loosened Silver Mist's girths so she could graze while the family decided what to do. "I can be in and out in a couple of hours," she said. "I will only take some food and enough coin to get us through Mirkwood. Hopefully the magistrate's lies will stay on this side of the forest and we can find work and somewhere to settle until it is easier to travel and join Christine in Bree," Mary finished.

Christine, the eldest of the four siblings, had left the Iron Hills the year before the incident and when she had heard of it had invited her family to join her and her fiancé. She said Bree was accepting of all races, including something called a Hobbit.

"I still don't like it," said Donald. "If it comes to fighting your way out, Joseph or I would be better off going."

Mary looked at him and snorted, "Joseph is too tall and slender to pass as a dwarf and if one of us is to get caught, you have your wife and kids to take care of. You could survive without me for a while," Mary said.

"Survive without you? Kaylee barely sleeps if you are not in the wagon!" Donald's wife Kaylah said, opening the back flaps of the wagon cover and sticking her head out. She had red hair, a couple of shades lighter than Mary's, bright green eyes, and fair skin. Being half elf and half dwarf she fit in perfectly with the rest of the family.

The reminder of what had happened burned the back of Mary's throat like bile. Kaylee had watched her aunt almost die before running to find help. That she had been involved in and witnessed the incident pained Mary deeply. Mary understood her niece's fears.

"Mary, I don't like the idea of you taking such a risk," Father said. "But I can see there is actually no other way."

Mary looked at him in surprise; he had been the most vocal one against the plan.

"Tommy!" Mother exclaimed.

"Kathy, she is either going to do this with our help or without it, you know our daughter. She's too stubborn!" Father explained. Everyone looked at Father and knew the decision had been made

oOo

The family reached the city of Dale a couple of hours after mid-day. As a part of the plan, Mary split off from the others and found an open meadow on the southwestern side of the Lonely Mountain; the dwarf city of Erebor was built deep within the mountain. Her family stopped in Dale and purchased what little food they could with the little coin they had left so as to get them through the day until Mary returned, hopefully successful. They did not stay in the city though, knowing that their thinness and the poor condition of their ponies would draw unwanted attention, so they moved down the road to the southwest to await Mary's return.

As part of the plan, Mary loosened Silver Mist's girths, switched her bridle for a halter, and left her to graze and rest, having been trained to return at Mary's two note whistle.

Mary then put on a dwarfish dress over her tunic and trousers, tying her quiver containing her bow and arrows down to her leg. She then put on her cloak and wrapped a thin, black scarf around the lower portion of her face, pulled up her hood and headed back into Dale on foot. Knowing her hazel eyes would ruin her disguise as a dwarf woman- only humans had that eye color- she kept the front of her hood pulled low over her face.

Mary waited until she saw a sizable group of dwarf women leave the market in Dale and head back towards the mountain. All of the women had scarfs wrapped around their faces against the cold, so Mary blended in well. Walking with the other women, she was able to pick-up bits and pieces of information. King Thorin was back from a trip and his cousin, Lord Balin of Moria had returned with him for a visit. Most of the chatter went on and on about how the king needed to settle down and marry. Mary rolled her eyes at this and moved away, not wanting to hear anymore.

As the group approached the gate into Erebor, Mary got a strange feeling. Her Grandmother called it The Intuition. She claimed that the gift of foresight ran in the elvish part of their family, but, since they were not full elf, all that was left was The Intuition and it had saved Mary's life several times. This feeling was not a warning of danger though, it was the feeling she got when she was about to meet someone or find something that would become very important later on. But since it was not a warning of danger, she pushed it aside. Nobody stopped the women as they hurried inside out of the cold and Mary just slipped right on in with them.

"I'm in," she thought standing there looking around and smiling. "That was easier than expected."

"Wait a minute," a man called.

Mary froze, certain she was caught already, but the man just pushed past her to touch the shoulder of an older man on her other side, nearly knocking her down. He grabbed her arm to keep her from falling.

"Excuse me, I apologize," he said.

Mary looked up and into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. He had long, dark, brown hair and, strangely, a short beard. Most dwarf men had beards so long they could tuck them in their belts. Their eyes locked for a second and The Intuition slammed through her again, this time more forcefully. Mary did not understand what this man had to do with her and did not have time to, as a confused look started to spread across those blue eyes.

Mary quickly pulled away and ducked her head.

"No harm done," she said, then quickly hurried away, feeling his confused stare on her back until she rounded a corner. Calling herself all kinds of idiot, she knew two things: One- she had just met what was possibly the handsomest man she had ever seen and Two- he had been close enough to see her eyes. That was most likely the reason for his confusion. No dwarf had hazel eyes.

oOo

Mary had arrived in Erebor earlier than expected, the time being only four in the evening. She scouted around, trying to look busy and not draw any attention to herself. After she was sure of the way to go, she went and hid in a storage room next to the kitchens, thanking Durin and the Valar that she had not run in the dwarf man with the blue eyes again.

She hid behind some large crates and decided to get some sleep while she could. Taking off the dwarfish dress, she sat down with her back to the wall. Laying her long blades across her knees and untying her quiver from her leg, Mary closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but her mind kept coming back to the dwarf man she had met. Mary shook her head, disgusted with herself. She was here to do a job, not look for romance!

She laid her head back and finally fell asleep a little after midnight.

Several hours later, Mary awoke with a start. Disoriented, it took her a few seconds to get her bearings. Then she heard what had awoken her; a large clock in the kitchens, tolling the hour. Four o'clock. Perfect, just about the time she had wanted to wake. She needed to be leaving around sunrise, when the mists were rising off the lake so as to hide her escape.

Mary snuck out of the storage room and into the cavernous kitchens, where she found a crate filled with oiled bags for transporting cooked and cured meats. Grabbing several, she began to fill them with all sorts of meats from the cold room. Putting these in the pack she had brought with her, she then put the pack on her back and put her cloak on over it. She then headed to her next target: one of three huge treasure rooms. The clock tolled the half hour as she left. She only had around two and a half hours until sunrise.

Mary moved as quietly as possible down the corridor- not an easy task with twenty extra pounds on your back. But finally she made it to the huge cavern where the dragon Smaug use to live among massive piles of gold and jewels. Fortunately, that was ten years ago, the dragon was now dead and the gold and jewels cleared out and moved into the treasure rooms.

Mary crept out of the passageway and to the closest treasure room door and pulled on the latch. Locked! And so was the second one! "This last one had better be open or the plan was for naught," she thought. Mary prayed and tried the last door. By some miracle, it was open. Once inside, she took out a small pouch and filled it with the coins conveniently left in small stacks on a nearby desk.

She put the now full pouch in a pocket on the side of her pack and turned to leave. The Intuition struck her again, and this time is was a warning of danger! Something was wrong! Something dangerous awaited her on the other side of the closed treasure room door!

Mary knew she could not stay in the treasure room and there was no other way out but the way she came in. She pulled out her bow and notched an arrow and slowly left the room. Moving slowly and quietly, she looked around the cavern and saw… nothing.

"Maybe The Intuition in off from the lack of sleep," she thought.

Relaxing slightly, she turned to go down the passageway on her right, as planned, when a voice suddenly yelled from above, "What are you doing down there?!"

Mary looked up quickly, startled, and saw two dwarf men standing next to a column above her. One was older, dressed all in brown with a long, white beard and the other was the blue-eyed dwarf man she had met earlier and he was dressed all in dark blue.

Mary quickly fired two arrows in rapid succession, aimed to hit the column, very close to the blue-eyed dwarf's face. The men did exactly what she wanted: dove behind the column. Mary took off running, sprinting away down the right hand passageway. She was about five feet down the corridor when she heard something heavy land behind her in the cavern, most likely one of the men jumping down from above, and then heavy footsteps chasing her. Mary did not look back, she only ran faster into the dark passageway.

As she kept running, it became clear that she was faster than her pursuer, his footsteps sounding farther and farther behind. She then came to a fork in the passageway that she did not remember from her scouting earlier. The left side sloped down while the right side sloped up.

"Since I am trying to get out, I surely don't want to go any higher up the mountain," she thought. She took the left fork and soon noticed that she could no longer hear the sound of pursuit. Happy at the thought that she may have lost him, Mary slowed to a walk, and then stopped to catch her breath.

Having not had a decent meal in a while, Mary knew she was not in any shape to be running for long periods of time. Also, having made sure that the kids always ate before she did, she was thinner than they were. This was usually disconcerting to those who saw her up close, as she usually had a fuller figure, closer to that of a dwarf woman than an elf maid.

As she started walking down the passageway, it suddenly widened out, like walking into a large, roughly oval-shaped room. Then about ten feet across, it narrowed again and disappeared around a sharp turn. As she crossed the space and headed for the turn, The Intuition slammed into her mind with a sharp warning of danger. Something waited out of sight around the corner. Mary slid her bow back in her quiver and drew her long blades out of their sheaths, holding them with the blades pointed down and the flat of the blades against her forearms.

She crept forward slowly and silently to face what waited ahead. As she reached the corner, The Intuition hit her so forcefully, that she threw her arms up in front of her face- just in time to block the slash of a sword, with her long blades. Whoever was on the other end of the sword had more strength than her, as Mary could not push them back.

Instead, using the sword as leverage, she was able to push off and leap back about two feet to face her opponent. As he stepped into the light, Mary could see he was a dwarf man with long, dark, brown hair, blue eyes and a short beard. He was dressed in all blue. He was the man she had met in the entry way, who had almost pushed her over, had caught her coming out of the treasure rooms, the one who had been chasing her. How had he gotten in front of her?!

"I thought there was something strange about you earlier," he said. "Thieves are not tolerated here!"

Mary refused to rise to the bait and answer him. Instead, she brought her arms, with the long blades still pressed against her forearms, up in a fighting stance.

"You will regret trying to fight me. Just give back what you stole and I may be merciful," he said.

Mary just glared at him, knowing she had a better chance fighting than she had in throwing herself on some man's mercy.

"I did try to warn you," he said as he brought his sword up. It was a single edged sword that curved out slightly toward the tip.

"An elegant weapon," Mary thought, as she waited to see if he would attack first. She kept trying to make him circle around the chamber, thinking that if she could get him away from the passageway, she could slip down it. She knew she had a very slim chance of beating him as he was both taller and stronger than her. Him being taller than her shocked Mary, as she was five foot, yet still he was about two inches taller.

As she tried to get him to circle, he seemed to see what she was doing and just stepped in front of her. "Irritating man, never doing what you should!" Mary thought.

Finally he attacked and Mary was hard pressed to keep up. He had to be one of the best, if not the best, fighters she had ever faced. His superior strength won out a few minutes in as he caught Mary's block with the flat of his sword and with a hard shove, sent her flying backward and off her feet. As she landed on her back, she banged her left elbow on the floor and lost the blade in her hand; it landed about a foot away. Mary looked up and found his sword tip hovering above her chest.

"Surrender! I do not want to have to kill you," he said.

Mary just glared at him, and noted how loosely he held the sword, a plan already forming in her mind.

Suddenly, she swung her left arm at him, slapping his sword to the side and rolling away, coming back to her feet with her blade back in her hand. She had meant to hit the flat of his blade, but the searing pain and feeling of blood running down her arm told her she had caught the edge. Not wanting him to know she was wounded, Mary resumed her fighting stance. This seemed to aggravate him. "Good," Mary thought. "People tend to not think clearly when their temper gets involved."

He attacked again, but Mary was faster this time, dodging and kicking whenever possible, her fighting style more elfish than dwarfish.

Suddenly, Mary crossed her blades and caught his sword on a downward stroke between the two. They held like that for a moment but, as he pushed down, Mary felt herself buckling. Seeing her buckling, he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet to put more pressure on her. Mary, seeing his shift, dropped down suddenly into a crouch, pulling him off balance. She then spun around, lashing out with a foot and sweeping his feet out from under him. He fell hard on his back. Mary quickly jumped up and kicked his sword out of his hand, sending it flying down the passageway and around the corner, out of sight. She then stepped on his wrist and positioned her blade right above his throat.

"I did not come here to harm anyone," she said. "If you just stay…" She stopped. She could hear footsteps and voices in the passageways. Judging by the sound and faintness they were still at a distance.

"Thorin!" one of the voices called.

"Thorin?" Mary thought and looked down at the man at her feet. She noticed for the first time something hanging from his belt. A shield that looked hewn from an oaken branch.

"Thorin Oakenshield?" she asked the man. He just glared back at her. "Great!" she said sarcastically, feeling fear rising in her. "As if this night couldn't get any better!"

Mary knew she had to get away before the others got there. "Just stay down and nobody will get hurt," she told him, and then she took her foot off his wrist, and backed away slowly. Then, sheathing her long blades, she turned and started running. Suddenly, she heard the sharp twang of a bow string and was pulled up short. An arrow had pierced the end of her cloak, tacking it to the wall. Before she could move, she heard another twang, and another arrow pierced her cloak just behind her shoulders. She looked back and saw a bow in Oakenshield's hands, one that she had not noticed before.

Her hands tore at the ties of her cloak and just as she got them undone, he was on her. She tried to fight him off and get away, but he grabbed both her arms at the wrist with one hand and pinned them above her head. His fingers put so much pressure on the cut on her arm that she winced and almost cried out in pain. With his other hand, he yanked the scarf off her face. At first he looked shocked and Mary knew he was taking in the slight elfish cast in her features, with the human eye color and the dwarfish shape of her face and body.

"A half-breed!" he exclaimed. Mary HATED being called a half-breed.

"Yeah, a half-breed," she said bitterly, her voice seething with anger.

She looked at him, noticing that he was standing with his feet shoulder-width apart.

"One that's about to teach you a lesson!" she said.

He leaned down in her face. "And what might that be?" he sneered. He did not notice when Mary shifted her weight. Suddenly, she rammed her knee up as hard as she could! His knees buckled and he sagged forward, his grip loosening on her wrists. She got her hands free and rammed his chest with her shoulder, knocking him down and jumped away from him.

"To learn to stand with your legs closed, you highness!" she said mockingly. Then with a smile and a fake curtsy, she ran off down the passageway. Her scoffing laugh echoing behind her.

oOo

Mary continued to run until she was out of breath. And when she stopped briefly to rest, she looked around and noticed a tapestry hanging in an odd place across form her. "What an odd place to hang that, no one can see it," she thought, confused. As she approached it, she noticed something strange about it.

"So that's how he did it!" she exclaimed softly to herself as she moved it aside to reveal a narrow stairway leading to a passageway above. At the same time, she noticed she was leaving clear tracks in the dust. "Well that won't do," she thought, getting an idea to buy some time.

She brushed away the tracks, and then took time to lay a false trail leading away from the way she was going. By the time she was done she could hear her pursuers getting closer again. Then, gathering her strength, she leapt from where she was standing, off the wall and through the tapestry, and onto the stairs behind. She ran up the stair quietly- taking care to not leave any tracks to follow- and around the corner. She hid not a moment too soon, as they had reached the tapestry mere seconds later.

"I want her found!" she heard Oakenshield say angrily.

"Are you alright?" asked a voice Mary did not recognize. "You're limping," it stated.

"I am fine!" she heard Oakenshield say impatiently, "I merely twisted my ankle, that is the only reason she got away."

Mary had to stifle a laugh; it seemed she had wounded his pride.

"I've found her tracks," said a third voice.

"Well follow them, the sooner we catch her the better!" Oakenshield said. Mary stood listening as they moved off. She stood still for a few more seconds, and then approached the tapestry. Reaching out with The Intuition, she prayed they were gone and not just waiting on the other side for her to come out. But her sense told her that all was clear and she peeked out, seeing no one she exited and headed back up the passageway; she needed her cloak and scarf, as they were the only ones she had.

Arriving back at the wide part of the passage, she found them were she'd been forced to leave them. Scarf on the floor and her cloak still tacked to the wall. Keeping an ear out for any sign that her pursuers were returning, she grabbed her scarf and pulled the arrows out to free her cloak. Putting them both back on, she was about to throw the arrows away when she noticed how well-made they were. She decided to keep them and stuck them in her quiver; she was always scavenging for arrows anyway.

Still not hearing any sign of pursuit (obviously her false trail had worked better than expected), she took a few seconds to bind her arm with the bandages her mother had packed, even though the bleeding had stopped. She would have her mother look at it later as Mary was no healer.

Mary knew she had to get out soon, she was exhausted. The fight with Thorin Oakenshield had taken a lot out of her. She ran back to the tapestry and back up the stairs, hoping to find a way out. As she searched, she had the feeling that she was going farther up rather than down, but, being completely lost at this point, could not find a passage leading down. She soon started passing doors and knew she was starting to enter a part of the city that housed living quarters. Not good.

Finally, she turned down a hall with no doorways; mid-way down the hall there was an opening that lead to a long staircase that lead even farther up. The staircase was so tall that she could not see what was at the top of them, only darkness, and knew that going up that high would not help her in getting out. So, she walked past the stairs and moved toward the end of the hall.

Suddenly, she heard voices coming from in front of her and stopped. Quickly, she turned around and started back the way she came. She had just made it back to the foot of the stairs, when she heard the sound of footsteps coming from in front of her. With men approaching from the front and from behind and with nowhere else to go, Mary turned and ran up the stairs.

She could hear the voices getting closer to the stairs and ran farther up. "Thorin! Dwalin! Did you find anything?"

"Nothing, but the cloak and scarf are gone- along with the arrows. I know she's close!"

That last voice was Oakenshield! Mary, heart in her throat and choking with fear, finally came to the top of the stairs and a door. Praying no one was inside, and with no time to check with the intuition, she pushed the door open and slipped inside quietly closing the door. She turned and looked around.

"Oh no!" she thought. She had just dead ended herself. She found herself in a medium sized circular room, with a fireplace to her right that had two chairs pulled close, and a heavy stone table against the wall to her left. In front of her was an exterior window, one of the few she had seen here. Heavy stone shutters were closed and locked over it.

"What am I going to do?" she thought, "There's no way out!" For a moment she saw the faces of her family flash before her eyes. Worry and fear, when she did not show up at mid-day ten miles southwest of here as planned, colored their eyes. The thought of her family cut through her hysteria and made her think.

The window! Maybe it was not too high to climb down. Joseph had insisted she take a coil of rope, with knots tied at regular intervals, with her. "You never know when a piece of rope will come in handy," he had said. She checked and sure enough it was still coiled at her waist.

Walking over to the window, she struggled with the stiff lock for a few moments, got it unlocked and then threw her weight against the shutters and pushed them open. Luckily they moved silently on well-oiled hinges.

Looking out, she could see the full moon, still bright on the horizon- dawn was fast approaching. The mists had not yet started to rise, but she did not have time to dawdle. Looking down, she could see a ledge some sixty feet down. She could make it, she was sure of it.

Mary took her rope and made a slip knot, then she tied one end to the table and took off her pack, tying it the other to give the rope some weight, finally tossing the rope out the window. Looking down, she noticed a trail, hewn from the rock, leading from the ledge, across a huge statue to a huge set of zig-zagging stairs carved into the mountainside- she also noticed that the rope did not quite reach the ledge, but she had no other choice; this was her only way out.

Putting on her old riding gloves to protect her hands, she carefully lowered herself out the window and made it about twenty feet down before she slipped. The climb down was putting terrible strain on her left arm and it started bleeding again, and gave out for a second. She slid about ten feet down before catching herself. An involuntary "Whoa!" escaped her.

She clamped her lips together, but it was too late. The sound reverberated up and down the mountainside. If the search party was anywhere near the stairs, they would have heard her.

Mary started moving down the rope faster than before, throwing caution to the wind, and only had fifteen to the end of the rope when she heard the bang of the door being thrown open in the room above.

"The window!" she heard someone yell and she looked up.

There was Thorin Oakenshield glaring down at her. He moved back inside the window and she heard him say "Grab that rope and haul her in!" Terrified, Mary really started moving fast, but noticed that the rope ended around twenty feet above the ledge. Suddenly, there was a loud snap. She knew that sound! The rope was breaking!

"Grab the rope!" she heard a panicked voice shout. There was one more loud snap and suddenly the rope went slack in her hands. Screaming, Mary started to fall. Then, suddenly, the rope went taunt and was ripped from her hands. Turning and reaching out, she was able to grab the strap of her pack as she fell past. Looking down, she saw her feet swing out over the ledge until all she saw was tree tops and rocks some three-hundred feet below.

"NO, NO, NO!" she screamed, not wanting to die. Finally she started to swing back toward the ledge, and seeing it only about five feet down, she reached and grabbed one of her long blades and sliced through the rope. She landed on her feet- at first- but the momentum of the swing carried her over until she fell and rolled until she hit the wall with her right shoulder. "Oh, that's going to leave a bruise!" she thought, insanely happy to still be alive.

Still clutching the pack, Mary shakily got to her feet and put it back on under her cloak. She then leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, taking a couple deep breaths for a second, to get control of herself.

"Where is she?!" she heard Oakenshield yell. Mary pulled her hood back up, as it had fallen off during her fall, and stepped farther out on the ledge. Looking up, she saw Oakenshield leaning out the window. She smiled at him, gave him a mock salute and ran for the trail.

Half way down the zig-zagging stairs, she noticed the sun rising along with the mists. Thankful for the timing, she hurried the rest of the way down. The mists had reached the base of the mountain when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Fading into the mists, she ran for the meadow where she had left Silver Mist, unwilling to believe she had gotten away until she was back with her family.

oOo

Mary had just reached the tree line when she heard the first sounds of pursuit from the mountain. Even though she knew the dwarfs would have a hard time spotting her in the mists, thanks to her all gray clothing, she was still cautious. Walking silently and trying not to leave any tracks to follow, Mary worked her way quickly towards the meadow. She heard a voice farther behind her shout, "Split up and look for her tracks. I want to catch her before she can get away. And remember she is armed." The voice was Oakenshield and he was closer than expected! At his voice, Mary broke into a run and finally reached the meadow.

Mary whistled twice and listened. A few seconds passed and then she heard a shrill whinny. Turning, she watched the silvery dappled gray pony appear through the mists for which she was named. She ran up to the pony and rubbed her neck, happy beyond words to see her. Mary quickly took off Silver's halter and replaced it with her bridle; the pony was acting as frisky as a well-rested foal. Good, she would need that energy, as they still had a ways to go.

Mary had just tightened Silver's girths and breast band and was about to mount when she heard it- a familiar tread, someone was close! Not wanting to risk either her or Silver getting shot with an arrow, she turned the pony's head and swatted her on the rump, sending her trotting away. Mary then dodged behind a large tree and seeing the branches were low enough, decided to climb.

After climbing up, she settled in the fork of the tree. She pulled her hood close around her head, not wanting any of her hair's bright read color to escape to give her away in the fog. She watched carefully and, sure enough, Thorin Oakenshield stepped out of the mists, some ten feet from her tree. Seeing she was at a bad angle to shoot, if she had to, Mary quickly and quietly worked her way out onto a branch and leapt to another tree. Hiding in the fork of this tree, she pulled out her bow.

"Thief, where are you?!" he called. "I know you are close and you are going to regret the humiliation you dealt me today!" Mary smiled to herself and decided to play a little game with him.

"Brave words for someone in such a dangerous situation," she taunted.

"Dangerous?" he scoffed.

"Yes, you are chasing a Phantom of the Mists," she replied, notching an arrow to her bow.

"Phantom of the Mists? Is that what you call yourself," he answered sarcastically. No longer smiling, Mary could feel the first stirrings of anger.

"No," she replied. "That's what people like you have forced me to become! A Phantom! A Spector!" She aimed as she spoke, finding her target. "A being unworthy of even the very air she breaths!" she said, truly angry now.

"People like me?" he asked, "How's that? You don't even know me!" he replied.

"I know your type!" Mary yelled, waiting for him to turn just a little more to his right. "Wealthy noblemen who think they can take whatever they want, simply because of their status!" she spat at him.

"From where I am standing, you are the one taking things that don't belong to you! Maybe you are the one that causes harm and not us noblemen," he shouted back, turning toward her voice.

"Perfect!" Mary thought and fired. Her arrow neatly pierced his tunic just above the elbow in the gap between his right arm gauntlet and the end of his armored shirt sleeve, tacking him to the tree behind him.

Certain she had not harmed him; she notched another arrow and fired as he turned to pull the first arrow out. This time the arrow skimmed next to his neck and pierced his collar, tacking him more firmly to the tree.

"Move again and the next one is in your heart!" she said as she leapt down, landing in front of him, a third arrow notched in her bow. He glared at her, but dropped his left hand back down and stopped moving.

"I told you already, I did not come here to harm anybody! What I do is for my family!" she said, putting her bow and arrow back in her quiver. "Stop following me and it will stay that way!" she said as she turned to walk away.

Mary stopped when she heard him scoff at her. "A thief concerned about the pain and grief she causes? More likely worried about getting away so you can placate your greed," he snapped angrily at her. His words caused Mary to see red. In the blink of an eye she had one of her long blades in her left hand and swung around, slashing as she did so, embedding the blade in the tree mere inches from his face.

"Pain and grief!" she said through clenched teeth, "You want to know what real pain is?! Real pain is watching your family, especially the children; slowly starve because of someone else's lies! And real grief!? Real grief is knowing that the only thing you can do about it will get you thrown in someone's dungeon, if you get caught! Don't talk to me about pain and grief, when you don't know what REAL pain and REAL grief are!" she raged at him.

Getting control of herself again, she pulled her blade out of the tree and slammed it back in its sheath. Then she whistled for Silver Mist. "As I said," she spoke as she mounted, "Don't follow me. No one has to get hurt!" He glared at her when she said this.

"I will find you!" he said.

Mary snorted, "Good luck!" she said back sarcastically. Then, turning Silver Mist around, she trotted off, disappearing into the mist.