Prologue:
When Aulë the smith created the Seven Fathers, first of all dwarves, he placed each within a mountain during the Years of Trees. Each awoke with his wife; save one. Durin I, father of the Longbeards, awoke alone in Gundabad. He wandered the north, across ranges and through caverns, seeking the half he had lost. He journeyed south, alone in the wild, naming hills and dells unseen by other creatures of speech. Finally, he settled in the Misty Mountains. He named his kingdom Khazad-dûm, the dark chasm, for its glittering halls meant little. His eyes were darkened, his heart despairing.
Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, lay far to the east. A sole peak, rich in the gifts of the earth, it held a single gift from all knowledge. The destined wife of Durin lay sleeping in the mountain. Not even the wisest of Middle Earth could discern why she did not awake from her slumber at the command of Mahal, why she did not rise to meet Durin I and claim her other half. She was an unspoken myth, unknown because she had never been. Her existence was only the whisper in the mind of Durin I, the promise from his creator god that never came to pass, nothing more.
Ages passed, her bones became the rock that held her. Her death was no more than an extension of the sleep she refused to rise from. For this Mahal both cursed and loved her; for he could never hate the creations forged by his own hand. So he saved her heart, purifying her will into the loveliest of gems, The Arkenstone, that she may both live and unlive in the mountain. Unseen and not truly seeing, existing yet not living, voiceless, and powerless but for the good will and blessings she could bestow, which would forever seem like only uncanny fortune.
Until they found her: The Arkenstone, the unbeating heart of the mountain. Little did the dwarves of Erebor know that when they placed the stone upon the throne they were holding up she who should have been the mother of their line. Yet she blessed them still, granting riches and prosperity until Erebor shone above all great kingdoms.
But that prosperity became their curse, and for one hundred and seventy years of men their halls lay barren and poisoned by the presence of the Drake. The Lonely Mountain, mate of Durin I was desolate, her heart no longer shone over the heads of her children. For while the mate of Durin I had never taken breath, had never spoken words, had never learned her name, she knew herself. She was the destined mother of the clan, and each descendent of the line of Durin was the blood of her heart. For while her body lay long dead in the roots of the mountain, The Heart of the Mountain, her heart, lived on for her children. Now they wandered, devoid of home, far beyond the eyes of even their mountain mother.
And so Smaug rested, secure in his conquest, content to glut himself on the riches of the line of Durin. For the heart of the mountain has lain quiet, pregnant with more than just hope…
But no longer.
**Author's Note: I've taken the history of the Longbeards (namely the origin of Durin and the creation of the dwarves) and altered it to make way for my OC. In the histories according to the book Durin I had no wife and was the only one of the first seven dwarf fathers to wake up without a wife. I took that concept and ran with it. Aulë is of course just another name for the god the dwarves refer to as Mahal. If there are any questions or unclear passages please bring them to my attention and I will make it my job to edit them for clarity. Thank you very much and I hope you enjoy!**