The Beginning

Every dwarf knows the tale.

They've all heard of the city of Dale and the Kingdom of Erebor.

Everyone who was there saw what happened, and yet we rarely speak of it. The devastation… the many innocents that burned in spite of a dragon's greed… you don't exactly talk of such things.

Though as for me, I ran away from it. I wanted it out of my life and never to be heard of again. I took refuge in an old abandon house on the edge of the Greenwood, praying that no one could ever find me here.

I couldn't bare to ever look back upon the city of Dale ever again… not after what I had witnessed there.

Sometimes at night, I could still hear their screams, crying out for salvation. Then I'd awake and see I was all alone, that the dragon fire wasn't real at the moment…

Most nights I went without sleep, staying up and going through my things, praying the town over didn't think I was a madwoman for doing so.

I heard the rumours, that most people believe me to be a ghost, driven insane by the loss of her family.

But the thing is, you can't lose a family if you don't have one.

But it was a good thing these rumours were around, it meant that nobody ever dared go near my home. They were too frightened to do so, which granted me privacy. I needed to be alone, not because I was traumatized, but because I loved the feeling of being alone.

So you can guess how furious I was one morning when I had woken up to find three dwarves and a wizard sitting in my small living room, patiently waiting.

How long they had been there was a mystery to me, but I didn't care at the moment. All that mattered was me resisting to throw the nearest thing at all of them.

The wizard looked up and smiled gently. "Good morning."

"Get out."

The three dwarves all jumped slightly, scared of me. I got a good look at their faces and nearly dropped when I saw the one in my favorite chair.

His once pure black hair now had streaks of grey, and he seemed weary, tired from his long journey. That face could belong to one one but… no… it can't be him…

But there he was, sitting in my house… with Gandalf the Grey…

Thorin Oakenshield looked me dead in the eye and saw the pure shock and sadness in my face. He then lowered his eyes and pretended my floor was intriguing.

The wizard just nodded his head and the two other dwarves who were at his side just looked at each other.

One of them, with blonde hair and braided blonde beard decided to speak directly to the dark haired one on the other side of Gandalf even though there were clearly other people in the room.

"See? I told you this wasn't worth it, Kili."

"Don't look at me Fili, it was Gandalf's idea." responded the dark haired dwarf whose name was apparently Kili.

I cleared my throat and the two stopped speaking before they could bicker any more. Once the look of shame came across their faces, I began to speak to all of them once more. "I'll say it again, get out."

Gandalf seemed to think this was amusing, since he was laughing a little bit. "Now why would you want us to leave? After all, we are your guests."

"You're unwelcome guests," I snapped, "and I suggest you leave now before I murder to lot of you."

The dark haired dwarf, Kili, had the guts to cross his arms and scoff at me. "You're not going to, though."

Thorin glared at the dwarf, scolding him as he spoke. "You don't know what you speak of. I suggest you hold your tongue if you wish to live."

And he did, which was a relief, because I honestly couldn't live up to my threat. The only person who knew that was the wizard… in fact he was also the only one in here who knew my full story.

As to why he was here, it was puzzling. However, if he was here, it was for a good reason… and I should have the decency to let him speak for just a few moments so I can figure out why he brought those insubordinate dwarves into my peaceful abode.

I ended up each getting them a drink and then sitting down, getting a fire started. All four were shocked at my hospitality, but I wanted answers so I had to.

Once the spark turned into a soft glow, I reclined against a wall and said, "alright, why exactly are you here?"

Thorin set down his drink and folded both his hands in his lap. "I've been told you were there when Dale was… attacked…" he spoke softly, as if he were afraid that someone nearby would hear his words.

I didn't see why he was worried, no one ever comes by my house anyways. Like I said, people think I'm a ghost.

But instead of telling him this and being snarky, I just nodded my head yes in reply, knowing that the subject was more sensitive to the dwarves than it was for me.

Thorin, son of Thrain, began to grow more relaxed knowing I was no longer as hostile as I was a few moments ago. He had my interest, and he knew it, which in this situation was fine for the moment.

But I currently had the upperhand, and if that changed, then so would I.

He continued to speak, telling me of his plans to reclaim the Lonely Mountain.

To say that this task was impossible was an understatement, not to mention the fact that he's probably going to die by the time they reach the mountain. "You do realize what lies in that mountain is worse than a thousand orcs or goblins, right? And there's no possible way you can-"

"Which is why we need you," he interjected, "to be our sort of… protection, I suppose is the word."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. These idiots weren't serious, were they?

The sad reality soon hit me: they were. These imbeciles were going to venture on a quest they would never return from.

But protection? Why me for protection?

Thorin knows nothing of who I am, nor do the other two… unless the wizard told them… oh that son of a-

"Gandalf tells us you're skilled with a sword. More skilled than most." Kili piped up. He bit his lower lip, afraid he may have made a wrong move.

Well… I guess I can assume Gandalf didn't say anything else… clearly they would have brought it up by now.

Seizing the opportunity, I took my dagger off the mantle of the fireplace, fiddling with it as they began to persuade me into joining their hopeless attempt at ever regaining a home.

Home…

Home was the place where you felt safe… where you knew you belonged… I hadn't had anything like that in ages… maybe that's why they're doing this… because they want to belong somewhere once again…

And if this means restoring Dale to it's former glory, then so be it.

"What do you require of me?" I inquired, standing up and awaiting an answer from them. I could see a small light in their eyes as they realized I was willing to partake in this perilous quest.

Kili and Fili were ready to bounce around the room like reckless morons, and for the first time in my life, I saw Thorin Oakenshield smile. Not in all my time in Dale did I ever see the heir to the throne of Erebor smile.

Gandalf the Grey arose from my chair and shook my hand with his right, and handed me a contact with his left. "Just sign here… and all will be in order." He stated.

All I could do was nod my head and begin to pack my things, searching for a quill in the process. I did eventually find one atop my desktop, and I didn't waste a moment signing my name on the perfectly dotted line.

And this, dear reader, is where my story begins. The story of an adventurous girl who wanted so desperately to clear away her guilt and the tragedy of love that follows.

This is the part of the tale filled with betrayal and regret.

This is the story of the malicious inferno that plagued my life until now.