Hola! This idea has been nagging me for soo long, so I decided that I might as well see what people think. I hope you enjoy it, let me know if you can think of any ways I can make it better.

The gravel smothering the ground scratched mercilessly against my bare feet as I fled. My hair, matted with blood, would've billowed behind me had it not been plastered to my back. Panic shredded through me, I had been so brave. So, courageous. So blissfully unbroken. Now, my mind was racing with the thoughts I had kept locked away for so long, they shook me to the very core and were the only reason my shredded feet carried on running.

They were behind me. I could hear their ragged breathing and loud curses. We had been running for only ten minutes and yet my body was beginning to shut down from exhaustion. The axes and whips they bore on their backs and hips clanged with every leaping stride they took, reminding me of why I was fleeing.

There. Just ahead I saw lights, so many lights. They glistened and shone in the darkness of the night. All I needed to do was get there. Then there would be enough concealment for my escape. There was a rush in my heart, it was love and joy and hope. Then another crushing round of fear as I felt one of those men leap for my shoulder, grabbing my upper arm and pulling. A cry of pain was ripped from my throat as I yanked my body from his grasp and my arm dislocated. It was not the first time that had happened, I was determined that it would be the last. Free again I sprinted like I never had before, ignoring the pain coming from everywhere on my cruelly beaten body. Their stumbling steps became lesser and lesser. Tears of relief formed in my eyes. Then I fell.

My body fell with a thud and I'm sure I heard a crack but that didn't matter, nothing mattered more than escaping. My left eye throbbed when I franticly looked around. I had fallen into the village. I slowly pushed myself onto my feet turning my body to get a better look. Everything was asleep, but it was beautiful. There were little doors carved into the hillside on which I was on top. The flowers swayed in time with my ripped, once white dress in the cool late night wind. The air was fresh and calm, so much different to the dusty, death filled air I was so much accustomed to. I sighed. There they were again, those thoughts. A smash alarmed me to my left and my head whipped around. Oh god no. I was fooled into thinking I'd be safe. Foolish. How could I be so foolish. No one knows of my presence and wouldn't care if I was taken.

A loud burst of laughter and cheer floated from behind me. The sound folding over me like the batter of the cake. The round door behind me was the only thing muffling the joyous sound. Determination flooded me. I would get that again. I would not be dragged back to that hell. Over my dead body. The men had surrounded me now, closing around in a tight circle. I took in a deep breath before whipping around slamming my clenched fists into the hard wood. I carried on knocking as hard as I could. The laughter stopped. I was too late. One of the men grabbed me from behind, his fingers digging into my starved waist. The adrenaline still hadn't worn of and with my thoughts fulling my rage I fought back. I bent and squirmed my way out of his grasp. Smashing my body into the door, not caring about my injuries. He grasped me again, swearing loudly. This time more of them had closed in and now lunged for my flailing limbs. I was screaming now, yelling for someone, anyone to help me. The wounds and gashes covering my body had opened, leaking blood across my pail skin. I didn't want to die, not now, not when I was so close to freedom. I could find my family. My friends. I fought harder. Punching and kicking anything in reach of my aggressive strikes. His eyes glared down at me and laughed at my attempts of escape. I threw one last final punch in his direction, with the last scrap of strength I had left. His hand flew up, deflecting by blow, a wild glint of insanity clear in his eyes. His fist was raising before I could scream one last time. The strike hit with an ungodly amount of force, throwing me to the ground, my head striking the hard stone. Black spots blurred my vision. A buzzing filled my ears. But not before I saw a group of men tackle my foes. My guardian angels I thought as one knelt over me, his voice muffled and unclear. And the last thing I could remember was those striking blue eyes as I drifted into the deepest depths of the night, finally rid of those thoughts that had plagued my mind all these years.

The company had been eating a drinking merrily, all sitting around the collection of Bilbo's intricately designed tables that they had shoved together earlier that night. An egg flew past Fili's face straight into the open mouth of Bombur. An uproar of laughter reverberated throughout the cramped hobbit home. Dwarves were known for their lack of manners and they knew it, but they cared little, they were merry with their kin. Their stubbornness prevented them from straying from their normal ways. Fili knew that when Thorin arrived the niceties would be over, the matter they had all come to discuss was not a pleasant one. So for now he would enjoy himself in the good old fashioned dwarvish way. By drinking. A lot.

He was just about to raise his glass along with his fellow dwarves when a frantic banging came from the door. Confused they all looked to Gandalf. Was there another member of the company? Why hadn't they been told? However, Gandalf had the same look of confusion on his wrinkled face. Searching for an answer the dwarves all, in unison, looked to Bilbo, who as always just looked really frustrated and a mild bit confused. Then the banging came to a stop. They all stood and made out way to the door. Fili stood behind his brother, Kili, who stood in front of the door and reached out cautiously. The whole of the company, who were huddled into the entrance flinched back when something was hurled forcefully at the wooden door.

"Prepare yourselves! We are being ambushed!" Dwalin bellowed, reaching for his duel axes grasper and keeper. At the same time as Bilbo let his concerns for his freshly painted door be known. The dwarves had only turned to reach for their weapons when the ear-piercing, heart wrenching screams hit their ears. The dwarves that had their weapons barged open the battered door of Bilbo's home to be greeted by a not so friendly swarm of angry men, circling a poor lass. Fili, holding his duel swords frantically fought his way through the men. All of them picking away the untrained men easily. Fili, seeing a way through sprinted to the girl who was attempting to defend herself, but was not quick enough before the large, terrifying man smashed his scarred fist into her jaw, sending her flying to the ground. Rage flooded through him. His eyes had strayed from the man for no more than two seconds. Two seconds. yet when he raised his sword to kill the man he was gone. Not one of the dwarves could spot him in the small village. However, Fili's concerns weren't with the disappearing man, it was with the bloodied girl lying on the ground. He knelt next to her as Balin and Ori helped her as much as they could. Her eyes were glazed over but he could see the immense relief in them as he looked down at her and whispered soothing words to her just as he would do when Kili was a mere boy.

Oin, Balin, Fili and Kili took the unconscious girl to Bilbo's spare room to care for her needs while the dwarves where in an uproar around the food covered table, all fiercely protective over the rare dwarven women. Balin, however, knew for sure that the female was far from a dwarf, nor was she a hobbit.

Once Oin had gently washed the blood of her face they saw that her face was free of any stubble which suggested she was not of their race. Then they saw how starved and frail her body was, no dwarf would've been able to survive such starvation. Her feet were far too small to be of a hobbit.

Kili stood in the corner of the room, a look of horror clear on his face as he took in the girl's injuries. All over her body where burns and whip marks and scars that showed she had been tortured for far too long. Her face was worse. A mammoth gash went from the corner of her left eye down to her pale lips with bruises surrounding her eye and jaw. The girl would have this scar forever. Fili's voice reached his ears and he realised that his brother was talking to him.

"What?" Kili turned to face Fili. He sighed and repeated what he said.

"We should go tell the others how she is doing and we need to leave anyway, Oin is going to look her over," Fili said, looking at the girl. For her dignity Fili, Kili and Balin all left the room and stomped to where the rest of the dwarves were sitting.

Dwalin was the first to notice the trio's arrival to the room, he stood alerting the rest of the dwarves and hobbit of their arrival.

"Well?" Dwalin asked. He was considered one of the fiercest dwarves in the iron hills and has many a life on his hands. Yet when it came to protecting others weaker than him, along with other dwarves, he could be as caring as a mother was to her babe. Fili and Kili looked to Balin to explain. They were too shaken up to possibly begin to explain the extent of her injuries. Balin sighed deeply and began to enlighten his friends.

"The lass is badly hurt, burned, whipped and bruised. Her face will take a while to heal and will scar and that is just what we saw with what was left of her dress on." The room was silent. Balin nodded, understanding their shock.

"Aye I understand this may put a downer on the mood but let's just try and enjoy ourselves. There is nothing we can do until she awakes," Balin said attempting to calm the dwarves. Soon enough they were all back and drinking merrily however anyone who entered the room would notice the coat of anger and worry that was upon the room.

Bilbo was even more confused now that the girl had arrived. Who were those people outside? Why was she in the shire? Why was she knocking at his home? He was happy that the girl was now safe and warm, he loved to help people as much as he could, but this was just too beyond his abilities to help and it annoyed him immensely. So, all he did was wait outside the door with a fresh dress, that belonged to his mother, across his arm and listened to Oin bustling around the room, attending the girl's wounds.

It was no more than ten minutes later when Oin opened the door to let Bilbo in, looking grave. The hobbit stepped in cautiously. Then stopped. oh hell. This was bad. Bilbo swallowed the bile in his throat. And went up to place the dress neatly on a chair next to her bed. Oin excused himself, saying that he needed to see Gandalf, leaving Bilbo alone with the girl and his thoughts. Most of the girl's body was covered in a soft velvet blanket, the velvet wouldn't chafe at her wounds, the blanket coming up to her collarbones, which stuck out horribly. Until now they hadn't managed to find her a new dress, so her remains of her dress had been put back on her. He gasped when he looked the skin above her collarbones. The skin had been branded with what looked like the language of old. The letters formed a curve just below the bottom of her neck. The skin around it horribly red and puckered. They looked sinister even if he couldn't read them he knew that whatever they said it wasn't good.

Gandalf stormed into the room causing Bilbo to jump from his place leaning over the girl. The wizard's robes billowed out behind him as he strode to the sleeping body. Grey eyes fell upon the markings branded into her skin, and widened in shock. Horror was written on Gandalf's face.

"What? Gandalf what is it?" Bilbo asked, standing up. Gandalf didn't say anything just left the room. Shocked, Bilbo looked back to the girl's unconscious body. What is going on? Bilbo didn't want an adventure he was perfectly happy in his cosy little hobbit home, yet he felt an overwhelming urge for revenge on the girl's behalf. From outside the room he heard a loud burst of laughter and the sound of his lovely cutlery being banged on the table. Disgust flooded through him. How could they be so jolly when this innocent girl was in here gravely injured? Prepared to give the good for nothing dwarves a piece of his mind, Bilbo stormed outside into the hall.

Bofur had decided to start a good merry song to lift the sombre mood. His brothers laughed and joined in with his tune and grabbed their cutlery and banged them on the table. Then they started banging their feet on the wooden floor. A flustered hobbit ran into the room with an angered look on his cute little face.

"Can you please not do that. You'll blunt them!" He yelled as fiercely as he could but to no avail. The dwarves just laughed. That was when Fili and Kili started the plate throwing. Bilbo was very annoyed by this time.

"Oh do you hear that lads!? He said well blunt the knives!" A roar of laughter, the dwarves seemed to have gotten their merriness back.

Blunt the knifes bend the forks…

So there it is, the very first chapter. I have a lot of ideas for this story but please let me know if you have any suggestions, I'm always up for some constructive criticism!

I will try and update as regularly as I can. Thanks for reading!

Question: What do you think could be branded on her chest?

See you soon,

Ellie x