The story of Durin's shield

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything you recognize belongs to either the genius of J.R.R. Tolkien, or Peter Jackson or to the singers and bands whose songs titles (no lyrics) are quoted in this story.

Genre : Romance

Rating : M (to be safe)

Pairing : OC/Thorin

Notes : Only the prologue and the epilogue will be written in first-person singular, from the main character's point of view.

This story focuses on important moments of the main character's life.

Each chapter bears the title of one of my favorite songs (no lyrics).

On with the story. Read, enjoy and review, please.

Chapter 1 : Prologue

My life started with a black dawn.

Clouded by the autumn mists and rains, I was born in the city of Esgaroth, also known as Lake-town. My mother, Leann, told me later about the night I was born. She smiled as she described it in those terms: "I would never forget how such a small wailing creature brought so much light into my life".

The lines at the corners of her mouth would widen gently, as she used to stroke my hair before I went to sleep.

I know now that I came into this world in the year 2850 of the Third Age. There's a letter from my grandfather mentioning my existence to one of his relatives in 2853, saying that I'm around 3 years old.

It was in the summer of 2850 that my mother returned to Esgaroth, from a journey into the West. She had been gone for 3 years when she returned to her father's home, a strongly built timbered house in the city center, just behind the Town Hall.

My family, we were wool merchants for three generations now. My grandfather, Old Ingor, was well known in the city : his company bought the wool to the farmers around Lake-town, stored it, and organized the convoys to have it delivered to different place of Middle-Earth. The wool would then be sold to be transformed into whatever uses their owners saw fit.

It was during the spring of 2847 that my mother, then aged 20, managed to escape the constant vigilance of her father and brother, and joined one of these convoys, leading her then outside Esgaroth, into the wild... Delighted of this new-found freedom, and of the opportunity to escape the tedious courtship of several greedy young men, eager to wed the daughter of the wealthy Old Ingor.

She was not seen for three years, and I still don't know all the details of her adventures, and what truly happened to her during that time.

Grandfather was angry when she left, but the anger soon turned to sadness, and he started to take breaks from business, relying more and more on his son, Ebor, to run the company.

When Leann returned to Esgaroth and to her father's house, she did because she had no other place to go and needed protection, being then 7 months pregnant.

Her father welcomed her without anger. He had thought that he would never see again his daughter, that she had died somewhere in the wild.

Her return warmed his ageing heart.

Her brother was not so forgiving: she had brought shame on the family by disobeying, leaving, and returning about to give birth to an illegitimate child. Furthermore, she was no further use to the family, soon to be a single mother, unable to wed. There would be no interesting marriage alliance with another wealthy or powerful family. A inevitable gap had been created between the two siblings, who could not understand each other's point of view and way of living.

Leann was then to be sheltered and confined to housework in penance for her mistakes. Only her father remained kind towards her afterwards. Forgiveness often comes with old age.

Little did anybody know that during those 3 years away in the wild, my mother had never been happier, had never lived fuller. She came back because she realized she was pursuing a hopeless dream, because there was no other choice. But she was not sad, only a little melancholic at times.

She always used to tell me that a part of her dream had come true, and that it was standing and growing right in front of her eyes.

So the night I was born, the wind was blowing hard against the windows, the rain pouring outside, deepening the pools on the muddy streets of Lake-town. The house was creaking with the gusts of wind, assaulting it from every corner. My mother was alone with her pain that night.

She told Ebor afterwards that she didn't need anybody to conceive her child, and certainly not anyone to deliver it. Ebor slapped her hard on the cheek for this outburst; and told her it was only because of their father that he didn't throw her out of the house.

My mother was quite brave and cheeky all her life. That aspect of her character prevented her, I must admit, to fit in the conservative society of Esgaroth, where men were leading and women were supposed to follow.

The sky was so dark on the first day of my life, that my uncle saw it as a bad omen. To him, I would always be something that should not be.

I would realize later how important my uncle's statement was then, and how it would frame all our relations.

Crowned with a fuzz of dark blond hair and bright green eyes, I was a very small baby, and very quiet. Oddly, my ears were slightly larger than average. As nobody knew who my father was, I thought for a long time I was a daughter of the Elves or some fairy creature.

That was, at least, an agreeable idea to believe myself related to such beautiful creatures. Grandfather wanted me to think so, and to convince himself that it was true, especially since he never knew who my father was.

This secret was buried in the grave with my mother.

As much different as I was from other children, Grandfather could not reject me and my mother like my uncle Ebor did. As long as he was alive, he embodied a barrier between us and my uncle's anger.

As long as he was alive.

So from this black dawn, I came into Middle-Earth. I was a bastard, and didn't know much about my origins.

My name is Dwia.