Chapter Two: Not All That Glitters

This story is going to be a mix of Tolkien's works, Peter Jackson's film adaptations, and a lot of AU. I do not own any rights to the Hobbit or any of Tolkien's characters, as lovely as that would be. I know not everyone is a huge fan of what they added or excluded in the movies, but I feel like it added to the story. Enjoy!

(I had originally published this story months ago and I realized how terrible it was, so I'm going back in and fixing up everything. I hope it's better, this time around!)


The priestess grabbed Lazira's right hand, flipped it over, and stared deeply into the lines of her palm. "You will see many terrors in your life and bear many scars. You will stay resilient through it all, but there is only one moment in time, that will shatter you forever."


The woman placed the burlap sack she was hauling, in the corner of the room, nearest the door. She proceeded to unsling her bow and arrows, that were currently strapped to her back. It was a sign of good faith, to remove ones weapons, when entering a household.

However, the woman still kept her most trusted daggers tucked away in her boots, for safe measure. She trusted Gandalf, but she did not trust strangers-especially dwarves. Now facing the men, the woman pulled back her hood, revealing a face unlike the company had ever gazed upon. She shrugged off her overcoat and left it hanging on a hook, beside the door (earning nod of approval from the hobbit-finally, someone with manners). She walked further inside the room and proudly stood before the thirteen dwarves, the grey wizard, and the hobbit host. She held her chin high, not wanting to become susceptible to their scrutiny. Any dwarves that were sitting down, were now standing, fully alert.

"I'm terribly sorry for being late. I got a little tied up in some matters", she confessed, letting out a small sigh. She motioned her head towards the burlap sack, which seemed to be leaking some kind of fluid. Bilbo grimaced, unsure of the source. "Never the less, I am here now."

The woman strolled into the room and stood beside Gandalf, offering a small smile. He returned one of his own and pat her on the shoulder, a sign of welcome.

"Hello my dear Gandalf, it is great to see you again." She inclined her head towards a bowl of grapes, that were set on the table, before her.

"Do you mind if I have one, Mr. Baggins? I have not had a drop to eat in quite some time. I'd be very grateful." Bilbo stared blankly at the woman, before regaining himself. He had no idea how this stranger knew his name, but after the night he was having, not much surprised him anymore.

"Why...why yes...you may. Enjoy. Eat anything you'd like, everyone else has."

All eyes were on the mysterious stranger, who so casually strolled into their meeting. While the rest of the dwarves stared at her as if she were a monster, there was one pair of dwarven eyes who observed the stranger, with outright curiosity. Kili stood across from the woman, soaking in every detail of her exotic frame.

Underneath her heavy black coat, what was left was a woman who so brazenly showed off more skin than Kili had ever seen on a female, that he had not known intimately. Her hood was connected to a dark leather top, which revealed a pair of bare, tanned arms and, Kili dared to look, the slightest peek of mid drift. She wore a pair of black breeches, that had various pockets and dark, worn boots, that traveled up to her knee caps.

Getting over the initial shock of seeing a woman dressed so boldly, Kili eyed the various, unusual markings that were seen on both of her arms. Black symbols, unknown to him, were adorned on the woman's skin. Unable to stop himself from staring, upon further inspection, the black symbols stood next to scars, some deep and jagged, others small and scattered. Burn marks littered the woman's arms, some covering what seemed like they used to be black symbols. Remnants of dark patterns could be seen on the outline of certain scars. Some of the black markings were thick bands, others were in a language unfamiliar to those he had ever seen. Others were intricate and beautiful, some felt dangerous to look at for too long. Kili had to blink a few times, his vision starting to become blurred. Her right arm was wrapped with three, thick copper bands and dark bracers covered her both of her wrists.

As she went to grab a grape and pop it in her mouth, Kili noticed that her fingers were adorned with copper rings and her fingernails, were short, but filed down to points. The young dwarf wasn't the only one to notice this, Bilbo stared at the tiny daggers, slightly horrified. He had no idea what would possess someone to turn their fingers into weapons.

Kili let his eyes travel back upwards, toward her thick hair that was pulled into a braid and clipped with three copper cuffs, hanging down her left shoulder. Her hair was darker than a night without stars-locks so black and beautiful, all of the Ravens of Erebor would cry out in envy. Her lips were full and her cheekbones exquisite, but a deep, long scar, marred her right cheek, all the way up to the outer corner of her eye. It was gruesome and jagged, as if someone had cut her with a rock, in haste. It took away from what might have been the epitome of beauty, at one time in her life. Averting your gaze away from the scar, it was the woman's eyes that left Kili stunned and the rest of the group horrified.

They were the color of pure molten gold, more vibrant than all the riches hidden within the Lonely Mountain. Her eyes were mesmerizing, but they had a flash of something sinister behind them. The longer you looked into them, the more unease you felt, deep within your bones.

She chewed the grape and went to reach for another, before noticing the eery silence that filled the room. The woman shot Gandalf a confused look, but then realization dawned on her on her features.

"You did warn them I was coming, did you not?" The stranger took a long pause and then a look of mock horror crossed her features. "You didn't warn them that I was a woman either?" She gave a sly smile to the wizard. "Naughty Gandalf."

"What are you?" Bombur questioned, earning an elbow in the ribs from Bofur. "Rude", he hissed, but he too had a look of confusion on his features. As if he were staring at a creature with three heads, no arms, and eyes made out of diamonds. The woman was used to such questions, but it still stung. This is why she kept herself covered, when traveling on the road. People of the West were not used to her kind. Even the dark creatures of Rhûn, were slightly terrified of her kind.

The woman let out a throaty laugh, trying to hide her wounded pride. Kili noticed that it sounded slightly hoarse, as if the woman's lungs had not felt laughter in quite some time."What am I? Well, that's a loaded question. I guess I can start off with who I am, that might be a bit easier to stomach." She had the smallest smile playing on her lips, but it did not reach her eyes. They held a dead vacancy, as if she were used to being referred to as a what, instead of a whom.

"Who...are...you?" Thorin spat, through gritted teeth. He sent penetrating glares at the wizard, with whom he had trusted. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, a vein throbbing in his forehead. This had to be the wizards idea of a cruel joke. Surely Gandalf did not sincerely think that they needed a woman, for protection.

The woman pulled her mouth into a tight smile and made her way over to Thorin, who stood next to Kili. Once beside the King, she began to bow, but kept a respectful distance away. She would not grovel at that feet of this man or any man, for that matter.

"Again, I'm terribly sorry. Where are my manners tonight? Of course I must introduce myself, because it seems Gandalf has left out a few small details. Greetings, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, of house Durin. I am but the lowly Lazira, daughter of Iza and Lûmani, the last true king and queen of the Shadow folk of the far East, who once dwelled in the Great Plains of Rhûn. I have travelled a great way to meet you, Thorin Oakenshield and it is a pleasure to see you in the flesh. I have heard many great tales about you and it is a shame that my parents have passed on, because they would have been honored to meet you, as well. I offer my service to you, oh great Mountain King. I offer you the gift of my protection, in turn, if you allow me to accompany yourself and your companions, on this great and treacherous journey, to the Lonely Mountain."

She finished her bow, not once breaking eye contact from Thorin. He stared intensely back-not even a single blink. The two were deadlocked, daring the other to comment first.

"So that makes you a queen?" The youngest dwarf, Ori, asked, in an excited tone. Being the youngest of the dwarves, he still held a bit of childish delusion. He enjoyed tales of great valor, slaying dragons, and the prince always saving the future queen. He was not bothered by her strange looks, he was just excited to be in the presence of royalty.

Finally breaking her gaze away from Thorin, Lazira turned on her heels and made her way back to her original spot, next to Gandalf. On the way, she leaned towards Ori, a sympathetic smile on her lips.

"One could call me that, but I do not consider myself one. You see, in order to be a princess, I would need kin to rule. Unfortunately, I am the very last of my kind. My people have been hunted down, tortured, and slaughtered by the hands of the orcs to the South. I am the only Shadow person you will ever have the pleasure...", Lazira gave a sidelong look to Thorin, "or displeasure of meeting. My people are long dead."

A look of disappointment fell on Ori's features, but Lazira quickly interjected-she did not like crushing young spirits. "But if you would like, you can still refer to me as a queen or princess, whatever suits your preference. I do not mind much." The dwarf offered a small smile, "okay, princess!" Thorin shot Ori a glare, which he quickly shrunk away from. It felt odd being refereed to by her old title, but if it gained her any favor with Thorin's company, she would tolerate it.

Around the room, the other dwarves gave unsure glances at one another, unable to come up with any words to speak. Bilbo gaped openly, unsure of what kind of madness was plaguing his home tonight and Gandalf sat thoughtfully, listening and smoking his pipe. He would speak up when the time was right, but for now, Lazira was perfectly capable of fighting her own battles. Gandalf knew Thorin Oakenshield was capable of reason, you just had to give him enough time to process.

Balin spoke up first. "I have heard legends of your people, passed down from the dwarves of the Iron Hills. I thought they were rumors, myths...but apparently, I was very wrong indeed. I am sorry to hear of the death of your people...but I am unsure as to why one lone assassin would want to aid a group of dwarves." Balin stroked his beard and gave Lazira a pointed look, as to say, 'yes, I know what you are.'

Kili noticed a blank expression fall on Lazira's features, it was unreadable-passive, even. "Please, go on", she encouraged.

"I have heard the legends, as well! Dark creatures, who practice blood magic and kill innocent folks in their sleep! The legends are true!" Bellowed Bombur, while slamming his fists on the table. "Murderers, the whole lot!" At the title, murderer, the dwarves began to talk rapidly, all at once. Bilbo looked as if he was going to faint, at any moment in time. First a bunch of dwarves had invaded his home and now, now Bilbo Baggins was host to a murderer. "Oh heavens, lets just let a pack of orcs in, next", he grumbled, wiping his brow, with a handkerchief.

Lazira nodded her head, in agreement. "Yes, I have been called that from time to time.". She seemed poised and calm, but Kili could feel the tension rolling off of the woman's body, in waves. He had a suspicious feeling that she could easily reach over and snap Bombur's neck, if the urge took her. He glanced at Fili, who seemed to be interpreting the same kind of energy. While Kili was obviously excited to learn about the new stranger, Fili was harder to gauge. He stroked his beard in contemplation, listening to the woman speak, an unreadable expression on his features, as well.

"Oh, quiet down Bombur, how could a woman be capable of murder? Look at her, sure, she may seem a little odd...but she's a woman after all. A woman!" Cried Dori, waving his hands animately. "She couldn't even harm a hobbit!" Bilbo narrowed his eyes and Dori gave a sheepish smile. "Well, no offense to you, Mr. Baggins."

"Let's not give anyone ideas", Bilbo glowered, shoving his handkerchief back into his pocket, rather viciously.

Most of the group nodded in agreement, whispering to each other and taking quick glances at the stranger. Bilbo, now completely mortified, just sat in his chair, hands splayed over his eyes, mumbling to himself. "I must be dreaming, somebody pinch me," he muttered, but unfortunately his request was answered by Ori. "Ow!" He exclaimed, rubbing his assaulted arm. "That hurt!"

"Your pinch, as requested", Ori cheerfully announced. Bilbo grumbled some more, dreading every second of his life, at the moment. All he really wanted was his soft, comfortable bed right about now.

"Enough! I don't care what you are or where you came from! I am sorry for the loss of your people, but a woman has no place amongst men!" Thorin stood from his chair and strode toward Gandalf, an icy expression on his features.

"Wizard, first you insult me, by insisting we bring a hobbit on our journey...a fat, wee lad, who has never wielded a weapon in his life." Bilbo quickly looked up, feeling incredibly offended. "I am not fat!" He chided in, but no one could hear him, over Thorin's booming voice. "And after that, after I can almost wrap my mind around the idea, you have the audacity to say that I, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, needs to enlist the help of a woman, for my own protection! You have quite the nerve old man!" The vein that throbbed on Thorin's temple was about ready to explode. Lazira stood calmly, even as the spit from Thorin's mouth sprayed her face.

The grey wizard was a very docile man, but he did not like to be spoken down too. Gandalf stood up upright, easily towering over Thorin. He seemed threateningly massive, causing the other dwarves to take a small step back. Gandalf's voice suddenly echoed throughout the hobbit hole, a terrifying, ghostly sound, emitting from his lips.

"Silence! You speak too much and know too little. Give the woman a chance to explain why she is offering her service, before you dismiss her. Do not question my knowledge and judgment. I have confided in Lazira for a reason. Your pride will be the death of you, Thorin Oakenshield." Thorin begrudgingly sat back in his chair, a sour look on the kings face.

"Fine, wizard. I will play along with this nonsense, for now. What say you, Lazira of the lost Shadow folk, why have you asked to accompany me on our journey to the Lonely Mountain, where the great and insidious dragon, Smaug the Terrible, dwells? What skills can you bring on this journey, that my men and I do not already possess?" Thorin did not bother to hide his sarcasm. Gandalf took a seat and the rest of the company quickly followed suit, still slightly shaken by the booming voice, of the wizard. Bilbo sat wide eyed, his lips sealed in a thin line.

Lazira smoothed out her hair, paused, and gave a nod to Thorin. She was the only one who remained standing-all eyes fell upon the young stranger.

"Well, thank you for allowing me the privilege to speak, Mountain King. You ask why I want to accompany you on this quest? Well, I have many reasons. Foremost, I understand what it is like to be driven from your home, by insidious forces, beyond your control. The dark ones tried to enlist my people to fight for their battles in the West, but we refused. When we refused, Azog and his army of orcs started to hunt my people down, trying to force them into servitude, by means of torture. Still, we refused. The more we refused, the higher the death toll. The dark ones tried to drink our blood, believing that they would obtain our magic. When that failed, they began to violate our women and try to create a hybrid breed. Just as they did with the elves, when creating the orcs. When that failed, they tried to turn my people into creatures of their own. When my people slit their own throats, rather than be turned into monsters, the orcs set out to annihilate my entire race. They succeeded. Our numbers have never been plentiful, my race has been dwindling for years, before the dark ones ever came to our lands." As she spoke, Lazira absentmindedly toyed with the necklace hanging around her neck-a simple onyx ring, attached to a thin, copper chain.

"Their darkness spread throughout the lands, destroying everything in it's path. My once beautiful homeland was turned to ash. The once golden fields of Rhûn turned black and rotted away. My people suffered terribly, before their passing and I refuse to have them erased from history, so easily. The men of the West do not even know our suffering-I want to bring honor back to my people. And above all, I refuse to see another race dwindled down to mere nothingness, because of the darkness that plagues these lands. I wish to see the dwarves regain their beloved homeland-the rightful heirs to Erebor. And maybe, just maybe, it will make me feel less hollow inside, about not being able to save my own kin. I would give anything to see my people once more, but our history was taken from us. Let me not witness another race be stripped of their honor and dignity."

Lazira took a deep breath and paused, as if she were not used to using her vocals cords so frequently. The company listened closely, all leaning in to hear the mysterious woman speak. Even Thorin was slightly intrigued, but refused to show it. Bilbo Baggins wiped a single tear away, with his beloved handkerchief. He did not enjoy tales of suffering.

Lazira looked pointedly at Balin, "You may call us creatures of darkness and blood, murderers, heathens, for all I care, but you can not deny the fact that my people are legends for a reason. We are very, very good at what we do, Thorin Oakenshield. I was trained in the art of combat from an early age. I am a master with a bow and my blades are another appendage." The men smirked at one another, as if she were a little girl bragging about playing with a wooden sword for the first time.

Lazira was used to the disbelief of men. Until they saw her with their own eyes, they would believe she was just a silly woman, wanting to fight in a man's world. She carried on anyways, ignoring their laughter.

"You may think that you have all the protection in the world, Thorin Oakenshield, but there is a large bounty on you and your families head. I am not the only one that knows of your journey to take back the Lonely Mountain. There are many men who wish to see you dead and will stop at nothing until every last drop of Durin blood is shed."

Thorin interjected, slamming his fists on the table. Kili and Fili exchanged confused looks. "How dare you threaten my family! You're a stranger, a heathen-I can not trust the words that spill from your nefarious lips!" He continued to shout, but Lazira blocked out the angry king, before she lost her sense. She quickly gathered herself and strode towards the burlap sack that was lying on the floor, nearest the door. Throwing it over one shoulder, she made her way back over the group, hauling the sack, her cheeks slightly pink from annoyance.

"If you do not believe my words, see with your own eyes, Thorin Oakenshield", she huffed. Without warning, Lazira heaved the contents of the sack, onto the table, sending mugs flying and Bilbo running to the corner, in order to purge what little food he had left in his stomach.

"I found these four waiting outside this very hobbit hole, staging an attack, as soon as the moment presented itself. I give you their heads, as a token of my loyalty. Here's the bounty notice, if you still distrust my nefarious lips", Lazira practically spat, tossing the crumbled paper at Thorin. He hastily opened up the parchment and read rapidly-indeed, a very high bounty was placed on his very own head and the heads of his beloved nephews. A wave of nausea wracked the kings body and his anger dissipated, if just for a moment. His nephews were so eager to join on this adventure and although they were talented with blade and bow, they lacked many years experience. They had never fought in an epic battle or gazed into the unforgiving eyes of a blood thirsty orc.

He quickly glanced at Kili and Fili, a sudden burst of fear passing before his eyes, but not without their notice. The brothers exchanged looks of confusion and then turned their gaze elsewhere, peering into the eyes of the dead men on the table. The corpses also held a look of confusion on their faces, as if they too, were amazed that it was a woman giving them their death blow.

Without saying a word, Thorin stood up quietly and made his way to the fire, where he then tossed in the bounty notice. He watched it disintegrate fully, before slowly making his way back to the company.

The vein in Thorin's temple stopped throbbing, but his words still carried dark undertones. His legendary mood swings were well know, amongst his kin. "So? You believe I am not capable of looking after myself? My men could have easily killed this small group. What have you proven? That you can sneak up on some beggars, in the dead of night? I do not know what we will face on our journey, but I can assure you, our assailants will not be this frail. Or this dumb." Lazira had to physically bite her tongue, to hold back all the vile words that she wanted to spit at Thorin. Gandalf warned her that the dwarf would be stubborn, but he didn't warn her that he would be so ungrateful.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I strongly believe that you should accept all the help that is given to you, on this journey. I am not ignorant to danger. I have been traveling on my own, for quite some time. I have escaped from many orcs and have slaughtered just as many. Countless creatures from your worst nightmares, have been crushed under my boots. You may not respect the skills I possess with my blades, but I assure you, I do not disappoint with my bow. It has saved my life on more than one occasion. It would be wise to have a talented archer at your possession, especially when we enter the mountain range. I have accurate aim from incredible distance. I am humble and I do not claim to be the best, but I can assure you that I will be a great aid. I will protect you and your company and lay down my life, if need be. It is the way of the Shadow folk."

"You keep speaking as if I will actually allow you to accompany us", Thorin spat. Gandalf and Lazira locked eyes. Thorin was far more stubborn than the both had expected. This was a very testing challenge, indeed. Gandalf warned her to be patient, but Lazira grew weary of the Mountain King.

"Besides, we already have the most excellent archer the world has ever seen, isn't that right Kili?" Bofur teased, plucking a grape from the vine and tossing at Kili's face. Bofur was curious about the strange woman and wished to see what her presence could bring to the group. He did not dismiss her quite yet. He twirled his beard braids and wiggled his eyebrow at Kili, who was trying to hide the blush, forming on his cheeks.

"Well, I don't think I used those words exactly", Kili grumbled, avoiding eye contact with Lazira. He did not like the scrutiny, in her molten gaze.

"Oh, I believe you said, and I quote, 'I am the best archer this world has ever seen'", Fili announced, mocking Kili's voice. A round of laughter echoed, throughout the hobbit hole. "Surely you do not wish to recant this statement?" The blush on Kili's face grew worse and he now resembled the bowl of tomatoes, to his left. Suddenly, a bolt of inspiration hit the young dwarf. While Bofur and some of the company were still warming up to the idea of a young maiden joining their quest, Kili was completely for it. He was enthralled by Lazira and he'd be damned before he would let his uncle send her away. Thorin may have been stubborn, but his nephew was far worse.

Young dwarven children often hobbled home to their mothers, bloodied and bruised, from brawling with the other children. With wooden swords and axes, or random sticks and stones, they battled, to see who was the strongest of them all. As they grew older, the nasty competitive streak did not diminish, but just grew more violent and creative. Dwarves loved challenges and accepted them eagerly. Feats of strength were a past time, amongst the dwarven kin. If a man were to engage you in 'friendly' competition, no dwarf could turn it down. If he did, not only would he be the laughing stock of his peers, but also his family.

"No", Kili said, while standing from his chair. "Actually, I don't recant my statement. It is true. I am quite talented with a bow." Fili rolled his eyes, able to sense where his brother was going with this. Kili turned to his uncle, a devilish smile on his lips.

"You say she needs to prove herself, uncle, so why not a little friendly competition? If she passes, she can accompany us, if she fails, she heads hom-she leaves our company." Kili paused for a moment, feeling slightly guilty. He wondered if Lazira had anywhere to go, if Thorin were to send her away. Did she have a home? Did she have anyone in the world that loved her and eagerly awaited her return? Shaking the thought away, Kili continued, "she says she can shoot from far distances, why not test this statement?"

Thorin immediately went to protest, but the sounds of dwarven cheers filled the air. "A challenge!" The dwarves cried out loud, just as Kili had predicted. Fili smirked at his brother, who in turn, gave a wicked smirk back. Raising his goblet up, Fili cried, "here, here", earning him a wink, from Kili. Not even Thorin would be able to calm them down, once the group got riled up. Gandalf looked delighted, at the sudden change in the room and Bilbo stayed glued in his chair, looking flabbergasted. "Not in the house! Not in the house!" He didn't know what a challenge from a dwarf entailed, but he imagined it was a bloody affair.

"Aye, let's see what the las has!" Gloin roared, pounding his massive fists on the table. The last time Gloin was in a challenge, he broke every bone in the other dwarves body. Needless to say, no one ever challenged him again.

"Now wait just a moment-", Thorin tried to reason.

"A challenge sounds quite fair!" Balin agreed, and the faintest twinkle could be seen in the eldest dwarves eyes. Despite his age, he still enjoyed watching these challenges unfold. If he were stronger, he would join in himself.

"Splendid!" squeaked Ori.

"Excellent idea!" Shouted Nori.

"Put her to the test!" Oin cheered.

"Let's see what's she can do!" Dori managed to squeeze out, threw chugs of ale.

"Oh, I do love a challenge!" Bofur twirled his mustache, feeding off of the energy in the room.

Thorin groaned, pulling at his hair. "Be quiet all of you!" But his words were to no avail. Once you got a group of rowdy dwarves started, there was no reeling them back in. They already were discussing how the woman would be tested.

"Excellent idea, Kili", spoke Fili, while patting his brother on the back. "A test! Prove your worth and Thorin will consider taking you on our adventure." While he didn't quite share all of his brothers enthusiasm, Fili was interested in Lazira's supposed skills. He'd never seen a woman wield a blade or an arrow before. Dwarven women were few in numbers and almost never ventured outside.

"What say you, Lazira, queen of the Shadow folk. Do you accept this challenge?" Kili inquired, avoiding the penetrating glare coming from Thorin. No one seemed to mind Thorin's sour mood, at least not at this very moment.

Lazira, who had remained quiet through the outbursts, simply nodded her head. "Of course, it would be an honor, to have a chance to prove myself, to you and your company." Kili and Lazira locked eyes, a delighted twinkle passing between the two strangers. She would thank the young dwarf at a later time.

Thorin made another attempt to interject, but was quickly cut off by his nephew. "Then it's settled! At sunrise, we will have our challenge! If you pass, you will join us on our quest to reclaim Erebor. And if you fail, you will leave our company and never look back." Kili looked absolutely delighted by his idea and Thorin, poor Thorin, just sighed in defeat.