Chapter 1

It was a trifling task to cater to the race of man as a Dwarven blacksmith. Oh, the temptation to slash a blade deep into a thigh in annoyance was ever strong for Thorin. The worst of it was when inexperience men ask more for something that they'd be keen to look at rather than use.

His least favourite wording – 'can you make a blade like those elves? I hear they're fancy' or beautiful, light, and any number of words that should not be used when asking for a blade. Strong, sharp, and heavy enough to kill foes were what they should ask for, as every blade was beautiful when wielded properly.

One day his hopes of doing a proper commission dropped drastically. In walked a woman, smaller than he'd ever seen – dwarf, hobbit, human or elf. Sure, she was taller than some, but not taller than him. It was simply the petite shape of her, the drastic thinness of her waist and lithe look. Like an elf that couldn't measure up to him, without the ears.

Surely this young thing in a blue bodice would ask him for a dagger. A pretty gift for a husband or brother. Maybe she'd attempt to convince him to fashion jewels into the hilt as some women did. These women never intended to unsheathe the blade, some even asking for it dull. She couldn't pick up a blade so heavy, he assumed.

But this woman let down the hood she wore and he saw that she was so different. Not with long hair or lips stained with berries for colour, not wearing a smile, and certainly not unmarred. Instead her short sand coloured hair was in tatters and had bone beads tied into a braided strand, a small scar along the line of her jaw, feeling of sunlight and smelling of wildlife rather than all those in this town who remained inside. Then her eyes fell on the blades in a barrel by his forge with interest, not fear or disgust.

"I'd like a sword." She lifted grey eyes to him, a smudge of dirt on her right cheek. Thorin remained indifferent, giving a nod and watching her carefully. "A proper cleaver."

"Would you like to shop around? It will take a week if you're hoping instead I fashion one." Thorin gestured her to the barrel. "I'm sure any blade would make a fine gift for whomever it is you shop for."

The woman's hand slipped around the hilt of a large blade and she lifted it with near enough ease that he was sure she wielded one before. A smile finally graced her lips. "It's for me." She told him. "And I'll need my own – a week is nothing to wait."

"Is there any blade you prefer?" Thorin asked, his day suddenly much more interesting. It had been a terribly long time, decades even, since he had seen a woman properly wield a weapon. She put the sword back, picking up another a shorter one.

"It will have to be long for me. Perhaps a shape similar to this." She stroked the blade with interest.

It had a double edge tip, the top a dramatic slant, the bottom a deathly curve and the rest of the top straight and sharpened. Near the hilt, the blade went jagged with short stabbing spires to keep the enemy from falling completely to the end when ran through. "As well as a dagger or two. Dual speared tip." She added.

"You know your blades." Thorin was fully impressed.

The woman turned the blade down and slipped it back into place. "Yes. I'm, well, not from around here." She gave a small laugh then, enough to break Thorin's indifference as he gave a slight smile.

"A sword and two daggers will cost a pretty coin."

"No worries at all – I've just gotten back from a good hunt and sold a hefty amount of hides and meat. My sword, however, didn't fare as well as I and has been trampled by a hoard of boars." She frowned deeply. "I've been told that the city smith was a dwarf and my apologies if I insult you, but I had to see so for myself. And your craftwork is very, very satisfactory."

He was as flattered as he could feel from a stranger with such an odd story. "I will start on your iron right away. But might I ask your name and where, perhaps, you are from?"

She held herself with poise and had such a knowing look on her face. "I'm Aysa, and my origin won't give you the answer you're looking for. You want to know my race, not that I'm from Archet."

"Indeed, that's what I want to know. Curiosity." He stated.

"Half human. Half dwarf." She nodded at him as she said 'dwarf'. "Never met one, however. And of all the dwarves, Thorin Oakenshield!"

He stood a little straighter. "You know of me?"

"Know of you? My human mother never shorted me of stories about my other kind. I looked up to you and honoured you deeply." He shifted slightly, watching her turn sheepish. "Not that a life full of despair is an honour, but how you carried on and led your people from home and in battle. That is the story I favour."

Thorin nodded his thanks, not planning on saying the words. "Your blades will be done in a week. Ten days at best with the daggers. You may check on them whenever you like, and then we'll discuss payment."

Despite his one week deadline, she was back every three days. There were requests to assist him, which he refused. The second time, her daggers were finished and when Thorin refused her help, she sat out of the way fashioning sheaths out of bought leather strips and a few well-placed stitches. On the ninth day her sword was finished as well and he had it ready to present to her when she walked up to his forge, as well as her daggers in their sheaths.

Something about the way she smiled reminded Thorin of the first time he gave Fili a blade, Kili a bow and quiver of arrows. Not that those weapons pleased his sister any. Like with them, now with Aysa, he felt kinship. She looked about their age as well.

"We haven't discussed payment, but this is far more than I'd pay any smithy for these blades." She held out a coin purse, holding her new sword possessively.

It was mad of him, but Thorin nudged her hand back and refused. "It's been a pleasure to finally fashion a fine blade for someone, let alone three. The money you can keep, along with those weapons."

"Impossible! I can't do that. Take this, please." She held it out again.

He just crossed him arms. "I will not take a coin for something that has been more for sport than work. I anticipate the day you first slice into a wild beast with that sword."

Aysa looked at him with such concern and respect alike. "I may not be your kind, but my father was a part of your kingdom, and I see you only as a king. And I cannot take these blades from my king. Not without payment given."

"Then take it from kin." Thorin told her. "See me as your kind and your family. Come back again and next time, we shall hunt together, seek out my friends. And feast valiantly."

The way she lit up reminded him of the first time he laid eyes on her when her hood was let down. How she was like summer light and still freshly covered in the dirt and scent of the forest outside city walls. Aysa looked as bright as he once had, as his people had once been. And she smiled very wide.

"It would be… the deepest honour. One I don't deserve." Her grey eyes showed emotion, watering, but she drew in a breath and was stone. She would not cry. "I plan to return in a month's time. And I would love to hunt and feast with you and your brethren."

Thorin took the hand that just tucked her coins away, kissing the back of it. "Until then, fight valiantly." He wished her well and she was leaving so hesitantly.

True to her word, the half she-dwarf returned in thirty days, wearing armours and furs, hair just longer and cleaned, feathers tucked into those bone beads. They set off, crossing the wild lands towards the Blue Mountains. They hunted and camped, sparred and talked. She was more than excellent as a fighter, especially for a woman, but Thorin could compare her to any man in his company and deem her a plausible winner should they spar. She was small a quick, stronger than assumed prior.

In the Blue Mountains he brought her only to his old friends. Balin and a few of the elder's friends, Gloin and those who mined with him, and his sister Dís's husband Rhorr. It was the most excellent time he'd had with any dwarf in a long time. One of the only journeys he went on where he was not plagued with his recent past and life disappointments. By the end he thought one day he may call her his own rather than just kin. It was the nearest to a child he was ever planning to have, and he hadn't even truly planned this.

Twelve years after their meeting, even when he was no longer a smith, she was still in his life and using his blades, keeping the best of care for them. So when the time came to reclaim Erebor, Thorin consulted nobody when asking her to meet him in Bag End. Aysa asked for no explanation. She swore in an instant to be there.

One and only disclaimer: I own nothing

AN: Fili and Kili's father isn't named, so I called him Rhorr. Also, this is just a little prologue to the actually journey - which will most definitely be movie based because it's easier to reference the script than it is to copy the book that a lot of people seem unfamiliar with and doesn't really go with the movie well. The first few chapters will follow the movie events pretty accurately, but after they leave Bag End I'll stop quoting every single line, promise.

Please leave reviews or follow or let me know how you like it! I personally enjoyed the idea of Thorin having a kinship with someone like this. And I deeply adore Fili.