Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit, or the Characters, I do not own rights to the book or movies or the original plot lines of either.

Hells yes I will be making this my own version of events, I will be adding scenes and changing scenes, mostly for my enjoyment and also for yours. I have dropped in my own loverly characters, the first of which will be Rylee (kinda obvious as she is my main character in this fic), but if you pay careful attention, you will be able to figure out the other few. I will follow the plotline of the movies and the timeline of the book. They leave on quest at the end of April and the Battle takes place in November so really we have at least six months of events to work with.

So this is the typical fangirl fic of a lady (me) who does not want her three favorite characters in the original story(and movie YUM) to die (Uh Duh) So I sure as hell will be changing the ending. Also, I love OC's so I am making my own as per usual.

There are references to the events of the Silmarilion and other works of Tolkien in this story, so be forewarned the Middle-Earth history within is a large part of Rylee's story. I did a huge amount of research on this story, the history and the timelines that I am using. If you catch a slip up somewhere please let me know.

I do love reviews so go ahead and let me know what you think.

Love you all!

Chapter 1

Dropping in Unannounced

April 27

The dragon was falling, she could feel the weight and the pressure of the beast as he fell from the air, his great wings useless once his heart stopped. The smell of sulfur and smoke assaulted her nose, burning her insides as she held on to her whip and axes. She looked down at the ground far below and could just make out the form of the Maia Olorin and the Elf Galadriel, their faces grim masks of fear. He thought that he and the leaders of Elves and Dwarves were finally able to talk her out of this rash act. It was her last true act of being Rúnyatári, Queen of Red Flame. It was her destiny. She pulled her axes from the beast's flesh and let herself fall away.

It was like falling in slow motion. She heard that a soul's life would pass before their eyes at the moment of death, and the small life she lived both in Aman and the years she spent in Arda did just that. Several faces stood out in her mortal life; Olorin, Elihara, Elorin, Durin and Eridith, Elrond, Rohinna, and Galadriel. Comrades and friends they were there for her for most of her journey. They were good friends, allies, and even then they barely believed the odd tale that was her life. Olorin stood foremost in her mind, always there to bear witness of her birth. He was a good friend and one of the wisest most caring Maia she ever met. Above them, there were only two friends she let in, who cared for her as much as she did them, Kaia and Jovina. They were her family and both of them disappeared from her life without a trace, without word, without a goodbye.

Though her time in the world was short, it was much filled, she completed her tasks, and she fought her battles valiantly. She fulfilled her purpose as the creation of the Valar. Her only regret, not that she would ever tell a soul, was that she was not able to experience more life before returning home to her makers. Maybe in another life she would meet her mentor, and find her One, have a family of her own. For now she would return to her place with the Valar and wait for whatever came next.

She was sealed into the fiery depths of the volcano, she should be burning, but she wasn't. She could not burn, she was made of fire. Her skin heated as she fell, getting hotter and hotter as the body of the dragon pushed her closer and closer to the volcano. Then as she went under the hot magma, the pain began as she started to drown in the lava of the boiling volcano. The magma entered her lungs, there was no way to swim around the beast it was just too big. The thick hot lava filled her lungs, she choked on the sulfur and ash, taking away her ability to breathe. Moment after agonizing moment she suffocated on the very fire that she was created out of. Then there was painlessness. Darkness. Nothingness.

She felt the darkness, the painlessness and floated there for a moment before suddenly she was falling backwards, dropping quickly through the ether. She saw light first, and then she felt the brush of her clothing against her flesh, then the heaviness of the layers of Armor, and then her weapons. She was being reborn again. Was she finally going home? The weight of her Armor and her weapons pulled her faster and faster through the empty all-consuming darkness. She fell so quickly that she could feel the wind pulling at her clothes and her hair. The hair on her arms rose, and there was a shiver on the back of her neck as she realized that she was whole again.

She heard a voice, the voice of Manwë, "Change the Hands of Fate."

Nienna spoke next, "Find all that is lost." Varda added, "Take back what is yours."

Ilúvatar spoke, "Be blessed child, and live fully, for this is to be your last."

Then through the darkness came the voice of Aulë, filled with laughter, "The Archer is the One who will teach you, Rylee."

She closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to work through the madness that was swirling around her. She was beginning to feel faint, her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could barely breathe. What did Eru mean, this was her last? Her last chance? Did she fail at the others? 'I did not fail. I don't see how, I have prevailed and succeeded in every other quest.' She thought. No she couldn't have failed, the hints were cryptic as always but she did always get the vision before the end. Then with a rush of roiling noise and heavy with beating drums and pipes and harps, she burst forth from the darkness and into a cozy candle lit room.


"M-Me? No, no, no, no, no. I'm not a burglar; I've never stolen a thing in my life." Bilbo denied adamantly looking at the group of dwarves before him.

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Balin said shaking his head, Bilbo nodded in agreement. He really was not a burglar and he was not ready to risk his life on something to do with dragons!

Dwalin agreed with his brother, "Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves."

Bilbo nodded vigorously, and the others started to argue, about how best to get past the dragon, who would take the risk. Gandalf stood, rising menacingly and cast a spell of darkness over the group shuttering the candles and every single member of the company sat down at attention as he began to speak in his most powerful voice. "Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is."

Once he had the attention of everyone again, he sat back down and resumed in his usual tone, "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of Hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself. You must trust me on this."

"Very well. We will do it your way." Thorin said somewhat disgruntled, wondering what in the world Gandalf thought the little Halfling could possibly offer that another member of the company could not.

"No, no, no," Bilbo protested he was so uncertain about this whole venture. An adventure would be great, but against a dragon, across the wild lands? This was too much for someone like him.

Thorin continued talking over top of the Hobbit, "Give him the contract."

"Please." Bilbo continued to protest, no one was listening!

"Alright, we're off!" Bofur said with a spark of excitement.

Balin handed Bilbo the contract and started to contain the contents as Bilbo began to open and peruse the parchment. "It's just the usual summary of out of pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth."

"Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo repeated in shock as he stepped away to read over the long paper.

"I cannot guarantee his safety," Thorin said as he leaned over to Gandalf so that the hobbit did not hear what he said.

"Understood," Gandalf said, it was an adventure, safety was never guaranteed on such things. He learned that from a dear friend long, long ago.

Thorin leaned back in and added, "Nor will I be responsible for his fate."

"Agreed," Gandalf said. He would do his best to provide that.

Bilbo was about to read a portion of the contract out loud when there was a loud rushing noise. The sound of bells tolled, the walls, tables, and chairs shook, and the window panes began to rattle. The candles on the table began to flicker as though wind rushed through the room lifting the map off the table and Thorin slammed his hand down on top to hold it in place. Kíli and Fíli pushed their chairs back as far from the table as they could go, a mere foot between them and the destruction that seemed to threaten. With a sudden burst of flaming light from the candles it ended. "What in the name of-!"

"Oh!" Kíli cried from his spot at the table. Suddenly holding a young maiden in his arms, he had to scramble for a moment to keep her from falling on to the floor. The woman was clutching at Kíli's chest, doing her best not to topple off of his knees. Her hands were strong as she wrapped her arms around him tightly. She was small, the girl in his arms and yet she seemed heavy, as though weighed down. From what he could tell, the majority of her bulk came from the weapons and gear that she was wearing. Over her fur cloak he could see a pair of heavy handled axes which shone brightly in the dim candle light, they made the light reflect like mirrors brightening the room. Under her cloak, she wore layers of leather over chainmail and what felt like a corset made of metal rope. Under all that she felt very small. Very small indeed. Against the metal, strands of fine silk brushed against and tangled in his fingers. Hair so long that it fell below her tiny waist.

"Ah!" A very feminine voice responded. She blinked at the brightness of candlelight after her jaunt through the dark. She was haphazardly sitting on something both soft and yet hard. Feeling herself slip she reached to brace herself and felt the form of a body under her fingers. Breathing in, she reveled in the scents of the sunshine, leather, Dwarven tobacco, and man. He wore a deep grayish blue tunic with finely embroidered trim. And from what she could tell, he was pure hard muscle under that tunic. She could not stop herself from wrapping her arms around him and holding on tighter though she told herself that it was only for balance as she tried not to fall off of his knees.

"O-Ho!" Fíli cried from beside his brother, suddenly holding a very finely created bow. The dark seared wooden weapon was obviously hand crafted with great care. It had runes and engravings surrounding both the top and bottom of the leather wrapped grip. He looked at his brother with shock and wondered why he got the lesser prize.

The entire group looked at the sudden intruder as she struggled to right herself on the young dwarf prince's lap. There was little enough room around the table as it was, there was little place that she could go. The hood of her heavy black fur cloak slipped back to reveal a beautiful maid, who looked to have some Dwarven heritage. Her ears which were very dwarf-like had the tiniest bit of a point to them. Her chin was bare, not a trace of beard to be seen, showed a very pale face with fine straight nose and lush lips. Her wide-set eyes were a deep dark grey with white sparkling depths, framed by long thick lashes. Kíli took one long look at her and clutched her tighter to his chest, his left hand spread possessively around her waist, and his right over her muscular thigh.

Her hair was dark, except where the candlelight hit it, where it shone a deep fiery red like the dying coals of a fire. The top portion of her hair was clipped back with a thick bright red tinted metal clip, adorned with black jewels. The rest of her hair flowed loosely hidden under her cloak. There were multiple thin braids threaded throughout, the most prominent were the three braids that were plaited around each ear. A metal circlet made of braided mithril traced across her bared forehead and into her long silky hair. It looked like two braids that were woven and twined together along her forehead that converged into a singular untied point just above her delicate brows where a bright white star-fire diamond was inlayed into the metal.

She looked up into the eyes of her impromptu seat and her heart stopped. Deep dark chocolate brown eyes engulfed her, she felt her heart fire back up and begin to race. Those piercing eyes were sparkling with life, and laughter and determination, she could live within them. He had a fine straight nose, beautifully sculpted lips, and a strong jaw covered in fine stubble. No beard, just a little more than a shadow that defined a strong jaw.

Finally, she released a breath. What in the world? At least last time the Valar left her in a vale, but no! This time they drop her into the lap of a most wonderful Dwarven male! She shook that thought away, where did it come from anyways? She had to find the teacher of the bow and change the hands of fate. She did not have time to be falling for the most gorgeous pair of dark eyes. Again, what in the world was with her!

Someone cleared their throat off to her left and she looked around her and realized that she was sitting on someone's lap in the middle of a whole Company of Dwarves. How had she missed the fact that there were twelve other Dwarves in the room? The entire place went silent for just a moment, as everyone stared at her. Was she more unkempt than she first thought? She was sure that she was whole, that nothing was burned or peeled away. She was not a walking skeleton or a bag of bones. She was entirely too distracted which was utterly mortifying considering who she was.

"And who, might I ask, are you?" A voice thundered from the head of the table. Her head whipped in that direction, landing on a handsome older dwarf. He had thick black hair streaked with the odd lock of silver, a fierce look upon his face and keen blue eyes, and a braid in front of each ear. Recognition rocked through her, making her tense in familiar defiance and introduce herself.

"Rylee Emitheral," She said coldly, snapping her reply at the man with the familiar face. An old anger filled her, an old hurt burned within her as she remembered word for word the tongue-lashing he gave her. Recognition flashed in the king's eyes and she narrowed her gaze at him. Had he forgotten her? She sure hadn't forgotten him, yelling at her for being rebellious and reckless, audacious and tenacious. Then she paused for a moment, thirteen pairs of dwarf eyes stared back at her. "I gave you my name, now, who are you lot?"

Thorin looked at the woman on his nephew's lap, taking in her appearance, and her bearing. She was not speaking formally, like royalty, yet her crown indicated that she was from royalty. She was a spitfire, defiant, and rebellious. His heart stopped, and then it started to race. It was her. Seventy two years before, on this very day he planted a tree at her birth. He named her, and this day she looked him with the same spite and defiance she had the last time he saw her. For seven years she was missing from his dreams, seven years fraught with worry was all it took to change her from a wild adventurous girl into a cold, hardened warrior queen. One who now looked at him with hurt and hate in her eyes. Thorin growled at the stubborn girl, "Your full name, Rylee, as you were taught."

She met his eyes with an angry glare and for a moment he was sure she would defy him, not that it was an odd occurrence for her to do so. "Fine, you want my full name? I am Rylee Emitheral, Daughter of Aulë, I am Rúnyatári the Queen of Red Flame, Lady of Grace, and Champion of the People. I am called Wolfsong, Blood Queen, and Firebrand by my enemies. But I swear -"

"Enough! Hold your tongue, Mahalul!" Thorin hollered at her making the entire company jump in surprise. Thorin watched as her face deadened into a hard cold mask, her rage sparked through her eyes. With that one command, he brought her defiance to the surface.

"Make me, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King of Durin's Folk! I gave you my bloody proper name, now tell me who the rest of you are." Rylee demanded from her place on the lap of the handsome dwarf, keeping her face devoid of anger. The silence stretched and the tension rose, as Thorin blinked at her audacity. She knew exactly who she was speaking to and still she had the nerve to speak to him in anger. As far as she was concerned she had every right to defy him. She could see that her placement on the young dwarf's lap was bothering Thorin, so just for spite she decided to stay. She shot him a glare and held even tighter to her chocolate eyed savior.

Her eyes followed the group as they each introduced themselves; Bofur, Balin, Gloin, Nori, Dori, and Ori. Then came Bombur, who from her position, was technically both beside her and behind her.

"I am Fíli," Said the blonde that she was facing towards, he gave her a cheeky grin, "The lap you are sitting in belongs to my brother Kíli."

"Fíli," She nodded at him in acknowledgment before turning to once again looked up at Kíli. Immediately she was pulled into his eyes as she whispered, "Hello, Kíli."

"At your service, Miss Rylee," he whispered back, a shiver ran through her entire body, he could feel it everywhere they touched. She gasped, blushing prettily and then bit her lip before breaking eye contact. Her fine white teeth on her bottom lip drew his eyes, perfectly pink, kissable lips.

She was sitting on Kíli, facing Fíli, who was holding her bow. She looked expectantly at the rest of the Company and they introduced themselves as Oin, Bifur, and Dwalin. Bifur, with an axe injury to his head, grunted in Khuzdul and signed in Iglishmek that he was pleased to meet her and she answered in kind, with everyone staring in shock. She looked at the little hobbit reading the contract at the far end of the table, waiting expectantly. Gandalf got his attention and the Halfling turned to look at her, "My apologies, I am Bilbo Baggins, at your service. Wait! Where did you come from?"

"I, um, dropped in." Rylee looked at him with a raised eyebrow and several of the dwarves chuckled quietly. One very tall wizard sat with his back to her. It was he, the Wizard, who made her pause; he seemed to be looking very concernedly at the little Halfling in the hallway. When she arrived he had become very tense, she could see the rigidity in his tall frame as he sat near the doorway. He was the same and yet so very different. When he turned to her Rylee narrowed her eyes and whispered, "The Valar take me, Olorin? Nay! It cannot be! How is this possible? You are so, so-, old!"

"Olorin? Who is Olorin?" Fíli asked the others, all of them shook their heads and looked at the strange girl for an explanation. He looked into her dark eyes and noticed the odd sparks that flickered within, they were not normal eyes. Very expressive in an almost inexpressive face, as though she was wearing a mask, but her eyes gave away her true feelings. She was in shock.

"Well, him of course! The Maia! The - the wizard!" Rylee looked at Fíli, her expression remained serious. She studied the blonde dwarf for a moment. Brother to Kíli, Fíli was also a handsome dwarf, just not her taste. Blond hair, familiar crystal blue eyes, the braids of a prince, he was directly related to Thorin. Son? Nephew? Definitely heir to the throne, if his braids were any indication, he looked much like the original Durin. It was uncanny really, the only difference was the braid placement.

"I have not heard that name in ages. The last time I heard that name in Middle-Earth was before the battle of Ancalagon," Olorin's voice said out of Not-Olorin's body. 'No, it could not be him.' Rylee thought. When she saw him last, not twenty minutes before, he was younger, with a fine young handsome face, his hair was blonde long and flowing, he had no beard and wore rich blue cloaks and tunics that were fitting of the Maia. This man was much older, his beard and hair were long and grey, his face aged and weathered. Lines from years of laughter and tears graced his wizened face. This was not possible, and he looked as surprised to see her as she was him, "My dear, Rylee Emitheral, is it really you, after all of these years?"

"Ages? Years?" She all but squeaked in response. She looked at him as though he lost his mind, Gandalf nearly laughed as her mask slipped away in her moment of shock. There was the girl he first met, the one who wore her emotions honestly and openly. "But I just-, you just-, I just! Just-!"

"Just what?" Kíli asked his voice was low and honeyed, raw in some ways. Kíli's voice, once again, caused shivers to run down her spine. She met his eyes and blinked in surprise as her heart stopped for a second time, her mind reeled and her breath caught. There a twinkling curiosity lit the dark chocolate depths of his dark eyes. She could feel his hands tangled in her hair under her cloak. She felt the gentle pull on her scalp, a shock of warm fire arced through her and bit her lip as she fought herself from issuing a pleasured sigh. Unexpected warmth radiated out from her core. If she were not holding tight, she would have fallen off his lap. Hair touching was always painful for her, but this was not painful, it was the exact opposite.

Fíli watched in awe as the stoic look dropped away, first, in surprise at her response Gandalf's question, then it changed drastically when the girl looked at his little brother. Kíli rarely ever received looks like that one, one of absolute adoration followed by raw hunger. Her reaction was not missed by Thorin either, who cleared his throat loudly drawing everyone's curious eyes away from her.

"I just saw him. I d-died, just minutes ago." Her voice was soft and quiet, she tried not to show him her fear and her pain, but somehow she just could not hide it from him. She looked up at him trying to will him to understand what she meant. She forcibly tore her eyes away to look back at her extremely aged friend, the mask slid back into place as she asked, "What happened? Did you not just arrive from the Undying Lands? Has it truly been ages?"

"Six thousand years give or take since you were summoned to Middle-Earth," Olorin said as he leaned forward and she shrank into the arms holding her. In the rational part of her mind, she knew that Olorin would never hurt her, but his answer terrified her, six thousand years passed? And why was he so different? He was Maia, he should not look like this. She felt Kíli's arms tighten around her, Rylee looked up that him, her eyes wide and inexplicably she started to calm. Again she worried her lip as she thought about this inexplicable reaction to the dwarf.

"It is okay. Gandalf won't hurt you, regardless of what you call him."Kíli said, seeing her fear, held her tighter, instinctively protective. Mahal, when she bit her lip like that he wanted to kiss her. What the hell? She was bringing all sorts of odd feelings out of him. This did not bode well for either of them. Especially considering her tone of voice every time she addressed his Uncle, she showed him almost no respect even though she knew exactly who he was. Even still, Kíli had no desire to let her go and was more than pleased to hold her in his arms.

Gandalf put his hands on the table and he sat back in his seat, not coming any closer. It was a placating gesture, "You were right about the prophesy, the dragon was defeated, and the Valar were successful in their campaign against Morgoth. I returned to the Undying Lands upon your departure as I always do. I was sent here at the beginning of the Third Age as an Istari, to help defeat a dark power. Now why you are here ages later in time? I can only guess that it would be for the last dragon."

"How many ages, and what dragon?" She whispered, trying to will her heart to slow down. Her head whirled as she worked through the information she was given and the possible reasons she would jump so far forward through time. There was a shuffling noise beside Olorin as her Dwarven audience moved closer to hear their conversation. She looked at Olorin's long white beard and then back up at his now concerned twinkling eyes.

"This is the year 2941 of the Third Age, my dear Rylee, and you have not aged a day," Gandalf said his voice was quiet. He was avoiding the question about the dragon on purpose.

"Of course not, Olorin! I rode Ancalagon into the Thangorodrim just minutes ago! A person doesn't age much in a few bleeding minutes!" She told him coldly, Rylee was quite exasperated. What was he not understanding about what she was telling him? She struggled to retain her calm demeanor, but her frustration was coloring her voice. "Except you say two ages have passed? Where am I? Why am I here? No! I mean I know my quest, but not why I am here, now! Ugh-!" Rylee dropped her head to Kíli's shoulder and whispered, "What in the name of Eru is going on?"

"Calm down, Rylee, you are going to make poor Kíli deaf! It's not like you have never skipped time before," Olorin admonished.

Rylee lifted her head and shot a dark glare at Gandalf. If looks could kill, Thorin wondered how it would rate; obliteration was a contender with that stare. He nearly laughed, secretly glad that this time he was not the recipient of that deadly glance. This was the girl he remembered, feisty and fiery, and full of life. He shook it off; she was a woman now, not a little girl. He had so many questions: Why was she wearing this cold façade? What happened in the last seven years? When did she become a queen? What did the Valar have her do? What was she here for now? Not that he was complaining. If she was here for their quest, then they were blessed to have the War Maiden of the Valar in their company.

"Seventy-two years is a little different from six thousand, Olorin," Rylee warned her friend. He was toying with her and aged or not, she would take him to task for it. She pointedly ignored the looks of confusion and bewilderment that were passed around the table. "At least last time I was still in the same damn age!"

Bilbo was supposed to be reading his contract, but the strange happenings at his table were much more intriguing. Was this maid truly from the First Age? In Hobbit years she looked no older than twenty, barely out of her adolescence, she was quite lovely but much too tall for a Hobbit. She was charismatic, engaging. He shook the feeling off and watched in amusement as the events unfolded. On the plus side, her sudden appearance took the pressure off of him and he could peruse his contract in relative solitude.

"All of your father's fire," Gandalf chuckled, the twinkle sparkling in his eyes. Rylee glowered at him darkly in return; a warning of white sparks firing in her deep gray eyes. "You are in the Shire, in Mister Baggins' home. A dragon now lives in the Lonely Mountain. It all but destroyed the mines of Erebor and the city of Dale over two hundred years ago. It is now hoarding the Dwarven gold, keeping these Dwarves from their home."

"Gandalf? Why does she call you Olorin?" A younger dwarf with a book and a quill in hand asked with extreme interest. He had a bowl-shaped haircut with several braids and a sheepish yet curious face. He backed off just a little as Rylee shot the dwarf a perplexed look. She recalled that his name started with an O and that he was sitting with his two brothers but otherwise his name was lost among the others. Regardless, this was her interview she would have no more interruptions.

"Olorin is the name that Rylee knows me by, Ori," Olorin said to the curious little dwarf. He met her eye and told her gently, "I am known by Gandalf now. Gandalf the Grey."

Rylee slipped her feet towards the floor and sat up a little straighter, nearly tumbling once more off of Kíli's lap. He grabbed her waist, drawing her even closer to him and righted her so that she was sitting on one of his knees with her arm around his shoulders. The moment her fingers touched his hair, she methodically started brushing through the tangled dark waves, softly working out the snarls she could feel. She forced herself to stop. Hair touching was an act of courting. She didn't even know him other than his name! Performing courting rituals not twenty minutes after her arrival was probably not the best way to start her fourth quest. She tried not to give any consideration that his handsome face and tempting lips were only inches away from her own, that his hands were still tangled in her hair, around her waist and under her cloak. She was burning up from the intimacy. She closed her eyes and focused, instead concentrating on the fact that she was facing the table and could see better the faces that sat around it.

Rylee completely missed the exchange of glances as Kíli and Fíli realized that Kíli was now partially wrapped in Rylee's thick fur cloak. He didn't even mind that her fingers brushed through the hair at the nape of his neck, gentle fingers brushing his collar, combing through his hair. Her long dark hair tangling with his own, her face and those lips mere inches from his. Kíli was more than pleased to have the maiden there, and Fíli's envious look made the situation even sweeter. With his hands secure around her waist, he also noticed that maiden on his lap was not very big, and he wondered exactly how tiny she was without the extensive Armor and layers of leather.

Fíli could not believe what he was witnessing, the girl's fingers brushed through Kíli's hair, right at the nape of his neck and Kíli did not protest. Kíli hated when people touched his hair, he rarely let their mother touch his hair. He watched as Rylee tried to ignore Kíli, and yet with her arm braced around Kíli's shoulder her fingers were softly caressing Kíli's hair. She closed her eyes for a moment and moved her hand away like someone forcibly moved it, she was that reluctant. Kíli was focused on her, studying her intently, but said not a single word about her fingers combing subconsciously through his dark hair. Then he noticed Kíli's hands under the cloak, one arm wrapped possessively around her waist as the other combed through her hair. They barely spoke to each other and they were already touching hair? He was so going to bug him about this later. The pair was lucky that the cloak hid most of this from the view of the company.

"Gandalf," She tested the name on her tongue, wrinkled her nose and looked at him, with a hard glare. At least he had the decency to look chagrined for just a moment. She had questions and by the Valar she was going to get the answers. "You spoke of a dragon. What dragon is it?"

"Rylee, you cannot think to-" Gandalf started, and she cut him off by holding up her hand. She wore fingerless gloves that were covered with red stained chainmail. The entire hobbit hole fell into a stunned silence, as the rest of the company realized that the woman was fully dressed for war.

"Dragons and quests go hand in hand. It is my sworn duty to seek out and assist in the destruction of the vile beasts. They are why I was created the way I am, so stop bloody stalling and tell me. What is the name of the dragon, Gandalf?" She was queenly, she was demanding, she was nearly tyrannical in her want of information. A white glimmer lit her eyes when she spoke of her duty; she still had a lust for the hunt, for the kill. Thorin's chest rose in pride, she was everything a War Maiden of the Valar was meant to be.

Gandalf ran his hand over his face in aggravation. "I forgot how frustrating you were. It is Smaug. Smaug lies under Erebor."

"So Smaug would be the fourth dragon, to mark my fourth quest? I take it you are all gathered here to go after the dragon Smaug then?" Rylee looked around the table. They all looked a little shocked. Thorin barely shook his head and from the odd fearful looks on the faces around her, she didn't quite get it right, then it dawned on her. She chuckled darkly, "Ah! You want to reclaim Erebor and the mines! You do realize you will have to slay the dragon to do that, right? Except, of course, that is why I am here and I have to destroy the beast myself."

"There has not been movement in the mountain for sixty years. We believe that Smaug is no longer a threat," Thorin said, looking at Rylee sitting in his nephew's lap. She wore a mithril diadem, engraved in the sacred runes of the Dwarves, Men, and Elves. What in the name of the Valar happened to her, that she was now this cold hard creature, imperial and royal? He raised her to be a War Maiden of the Valar, not some First Age queen! Not some second rate dragon slayer either! She could not really be thinking that she was to go after Smaug alone!

"Ha! I will believe that when I see it. Dragons don't just go away, they must be slain! Curse Morgoth and his blasted drakes! I hate dragons!" She growled angrily slamming her fist on the table with a heavy thump. Every dwarf in the room jumped at the sound and stared at her as if she had two heads. They all looked at her hand, wrapped in leather and blood stained metal mail. She met each and every pair of eyes except for Kíli's, if she looked at him she would get lost again. This was not the time for that. "Pardon me. I do suppose I will need a map to Erebor and I will be on my way."

The silence was broken then as the entire group started to protest. Kíli hands tightened around her waist, pulling her protectively against him. She was caught between the dual desires to give into his protection and to fight out of his grasp. She blinked in confusion as she heard him whisper an appalled, 'No!' His brother also protested. Thorin looked at her as though he was about to explode, she was certain that he was going to tell her she was too young, too reckless and not ready for such a quest. It was always the same argument with him. That and Magic. He hated it when she used magic. She bristled visibly as well, clenching her fists in her leather and mithril gauntlets. There was no way she would be left behind like some little housemaid or dwarrowdam! She was a War Maiden of The Valar! A dragon lived under that mountain and she was sent here to help kill it. There was no way that she was going to allow this group of dwarves to go off on some quest to win back their mountain without her. She was made to kill dragons. Besides, she was to change the hands of fate and she could not do that from a hobbit hole.

"You are not going after the dragon alone!" Thorin hollered from the head of the table. Kíli and Fíli flinched. They knew that tone very well; it was a tongue lashing in the making. Silence reigned as everyone felt appeased that the maid was not going. As pleased as he was that Thorin told Rylee she was not going after the dragon, Kíli felt Rylee stiffen as though ready for battle. Then Thorin shocked them all as he continued, "You will travel with us, or not at all."

"Before this discussion goes further, I think it wise that you remove your armor, Rylee. You must be boiling to death in those layers, it is spring now, not mid-winter," Gandalf told her, a twinkle in his eyes. "Besides you might scratch Bilbo's table with your gauntlets, he would not be happy about that."

"Gandalf is right, we might be at odds, but we are not at war, there is no need for your armor. It is not proper for someone of your status to sit like that, Rylee, though Kíli does not seem to mind. You are Mahal's daughter, you should act like it," Thorin admonished her, but his tone was also directed at his nephew. Kíli was a prince and at the moment he was not acting in any way with proper decorum. The pair seemed altogether too cozy during the twenty minutes since her arrival, especially with her taking up occupancy on his nephew's lap. If Kíli was going to touch the girl, he should do it properly. There were steps to courting and they should follow them. Thorin closed his eyes for a moment; did he really just think that? Was he really okay with Kíli courting Rylee? Of all the unions he could think of for his youngest nephew, this one was the oddest pairing.

"Oh," Rylee said with a surge of guilt and embarrassment, as she really thought about her intimate position on Kíli. She looked up at him, a guilty grin lifting her lips. It took everything in her not to be swept away once again, since the moment she met his eyes she no longer wanted to go anywhere. "He's right, you know, I should give you back your lap."

Bofur laughed outright, while Nori smirked. Dori glared at Nori as Ori blushed red at the intense flirting that was happening at the table. Fíli watched in amusement as an almost pained expression flashed across Kíli's face as he considered letting the girl go. He was even more surprised by the mirror image of it flash across the little queen's face as she looked at Kíli. It was like watching an intimate conversation.

"There is no way around the table," Fíli reminded everyone, trying to assist his brother, Thorin growled from the far side of the table and the trio froze.

"No, but there is over or under," Rylee said with a sigh of regret, as she instinctively understood the meaning of that growl. She turned back to Kíli giving him a warm smile, "Thank you for the comfortable landing, Kíli."

"T'was my pleasure, Rylee," He grinned back, she swept her feet to the floor and he steadied her as she moved. He stood with her and offered his hand as she stepped onto his chair and then onto the table. She ducked to avoid the low ceiling as she made traversed the room. He tried to hide the displeasure of having her leave him, instead keeping a smirk on his face as he watched her move away.

Fíli leaned over as Rylee walked over the table and straight out said under his breath, "I saw that."

"What?" Kíli asked watching as the dim light in the dining room reflected off of the heavy silver axes she wore on her back, like fairy wings.

"You had your hand in her hair the entire time," Fíli teased his brother, nudging him, trying to get Kíli to stop staring at the maid. "Since when do you touch hair, or even let maids play with your hair?"

"It was only for a second, Fíli, while she was getting settled. It meant nothing. Her fingers are really gentle though," Kíli whispered back feeling a little thunderstruck, for she was sheer perfection. He could barely conceal his discontent of her having to leave him and was even more displeased when Thorin stood and helped her down on the other side. Kíli did not like another male touching her, not even his uncle. What in the world was wrong with him?

"Rylee Emitheral," Thorin growled his greeting, but he her offered his hand and his seat so she could step down.

"Thorin Oakenshield," She growled just as fiercely, she stopped beside him and looked up into those true blue eyes. He was different than she remembered. He seemed darker, colder, and more distant. The time spent on Aman seemed so long ago, so much happened since the last night she saw him, they spoke angry words to each other. Much changed since that time, and she was a different person. Fear that he was still angry with her gripped her heart, but she forced herself not to show a single emotion, no one could know of her pain or sorrow, no one could know of her inner fears. She was still irate with him, but he was her mentor, and she cared for him.

"Ugshar?" She raised her hand and for the first time in all her years she brushed her fingers from his brow to his cheekbone, to his beard covered chin. The entire company gasped at the intimate contact, but neither Thorin nor Rylee saw or heard. Kíli burned in frustration. Did she just call him 'teacher'? Who in the name of Durin was this woman and why did he want to hold her and not let go?

"Mahalul," Thorin whispered as his hand traveled the same path down her face, to her chin. He spent years dreaming of meeting her and finally she was here, he wanted to crush her in a tight hug but he could not hold her. He didn't even know if she would allow such a thing. The fact that she instigated face touching was a shock to him, a pleasant shock, and honor. "We will talk later, you and I. Privately."

"Thorin, how do you know Rylee?" Gandalf asked quietly watching the pair interact. How was it possible that a girl from Aman has such a familiar relationship with a King from the Third Age?

"It is complicated," Thorin stated quietly, looking at the Wizard sitting beside him.

"Try the simple story, Thorin," Rylee challenged, as she stepped away from him. Her face returned to its cold countenance, her eyes sparkling, and her voice sarcastic, "I would truly love to hear you explain what I am to you."

Thorin shot her a dark look and he hesitated. How did one explain their relationship without going into useless detail? And how did he do it before Rylee started to sass him for being too slow in answering? Too late, she narrowed her eyes at him and started counting off on her fingers, "Other than a reckless inept and a regrettable pain in your hide. Too full of sass for my own good; I do believe those were your last words to me. Right after you told me that I would never be a War Maiden. That I was nothing more than a spoiled brat who knew nothing of the world or the hardships of our people and that my selfishness would be my death."

They shared a look. Thorin regretted those words from the moment they left his mouth and from the searing flash of pain that swept through her glittering grey eyes; they still hurt her. He needed to talk to her. "This is neither the time nor place Rylee, don't push it."

"Well get on with it then, Ugshar, explain who I am and how you know me," Rylee smirked, her eyes sparked as they glowered up at him in challenge. "Mahal knows they won't believe me."

"I met her seventy-two years ago today," Thorin announced to the group, daring any of them to protest his declaration. Rylee glared at him as he introduced her, a hard glimmer in her eyes, and the same daring look on her face. "The Valar asked me to be her mentor and guardian when she was born, which makes her my student and my god-daughter. I helped raise her."

"Really? So today is the anniversary of my creation?" Rylee asked in surprise, her eyebrows shot up. Her mask of indifference had slipped away for a moment before she caught herself. She huffed sarcastically. "Happy birthday to me, then."

The entire company looked on in complete shock. They were completely blown away by the events happening around them. Of all of the Dwarves gathered in the Hobbit Hole, only two knew Thorin had a student of any kind, much less a god-daughter. Even those two were unaware that the child was one who was apparently a coroneted queen in her own right. The girl wouldn't even be considered an adult for another three years, and she was already some sort of queen?

These translations may not be accurate (I am doing my best to learn though):

The Dwarrow Scholar (Language! Khuzdul Dictionary anyone?): He is not a Fanfiction writer, you can find his site on WordPress. A wealth of information if you are interested in expanding your Dwarrow knowledge...

Ugshar - Teacher

Mahalul - Daughter of Mahal

So for research on this story I have used the following sites:

Lord of the Rings Wiki

Ardalambion

Encyclopedia of Arda

Tolkien Gateway

Midgardsmal