Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize, this story is for fun, not profit.

Notes: The sequel isn't going as fast as I like, I'm kinda stuck, but hopefully I can think of an idea and get the ball rolling again. If anyone wants to help me, just pm me for what i have so far and your ideas.

Warnings: references to past non-con


They didn't stay long after Bard went outside. As Bain tried his best to stop them, the company left and sneaked through the city. They didn't know where it was, but Malrin had an excellent sense of smell. Even Thorin admitted they could use her elven senses and let her lead.

Using her nose and ears, she made her way through the city, following the smell of iron, however faint it was. As it grew, she knew she was getting closer. Soon, she led them right to the armory.

Thorin grudgingly nodded his thanks and set to making the Dwarves build a Dwarf ladder.

"Shh. Keep it down," Dwalin muttered to the Dwarves.

"As soon as we have the weapons, we'll make straight for the mountain," Thorin said. He turned to Nori. "Go, go, go."

Nori ran up the makeshift ladder silently and dropped into the window. Malrin was next. She heard a few whispered comments on how light she was. Once everyone was in, they started collecting weapons. Malrin noticed Thorin was piling weapons on Kili, who looked pale and sweaty. She moved to help him.

"I can manage," he told her, refusing to give up a single weapon. "Let's just get out of here." He turned to walk down the stairs, but his leg gave out and he started tumbling down the stairs, the weapons clashing and clanging on their way down. It was dead silent for a second, then...

"Run!" Dwalin shouted. The Dwarves made to run, but they were soon overcome with guards. Bilbo and Malrin were also captured.

"Take them to the Master," one of the guards yelled.

Trying to keep her cover of not speaking common, Malrin was yelling in Elvish, trying to break free. With her extra strength, she did managed to break free, but was taken down by three guards. She instantly stilled, tears slipping free as she was suddenly reliving memories of different guards.

"Tie her up," a guard commanded. Iron shackles were placed on her wrists and she was tugged to her feet. The Dwarves were watching with worried eyes and Bilbo seemed to be chewing his tongue to avoid angering the guards further. Even Thorin looked like he was angry on Malrin's behalf and he was the only one of the group who knew what had happened so long ago.

One guard, a young looking man, stepped up to the guard that commanded the order to tie her up. "Braga, there is no reason to tie her up. Look at her. She is harmless," he said, ignoring the fact that she had just fought the guards.

Braga sneered at the young man. "You apparently know nothing, Jern. She is an Elf, look at her ears. Elves are much stronger than us, we must take all precautions."

"If she is an Elf, then why is she so short? I've never seen an Elf with her height," Jern argued.

Braga hesitated then. Then his sneer returned. "You forget your place, Jern. Step back or you will be tied up next."

Jern glared at the older man, then backed down. Braga smirked and ordered the company to march. Malrin was shoved forward, stumbling into Bofur, who steadied her. Jern took his place beside her and helped her on the uneven ground. He was careful not to touch any part of her other than her hands.

The company was marched down to the center of town, gathering a crowd as they went. As they approached a large building, the doors swung open and a man, so ugly he could put the Goblin king to shame, stepped out.

"What is the meaning of this?" he called out.

"We caught 'em stealing weapons, Sire," Braga said.

"Ah! Enemies of the state, huh?" the Master asked.

"A desperate bunch of mercenaries, if ever there was, Sire," Alfrid said, appearing behind the Master. His eyes narrowed as he looked towards Malrin.

"Hold your tongue!" Dwalin shouted, stepping to the front of the group. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal. This is Thorin. Son of Thrain, son of Thror!"

Thorin stepped forward to stand beside Dwalin. "We are the Dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland. I remember this town in the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake. This was the center of all trade in the north! I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the Dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"

The crowd cheered, then fell silent as a voice rang out.

"Death! That is what you'll bring upon us." Bard shoved his way through the crowd. "Dragonfire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."

"You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; if we succeed all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!"

Bard turned to the crowd as they began cheering again. "All of you! Listen to me, you must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm? And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a Mountain King, so driven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!"

"Now. Now," the Master cut in. "We must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget, that is was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!"

"It's true, Sire. We all know the story. Arrow after arrow, he shot. Each one missing it's mark," Alfrid put in.

Bard turned to Thorin and stepped closer. "You have no right. No right to enter that mountain."

"I have the only right," Thorin said lowly. He faced away from Bard, towards the Master. "I speak to the Master of the men of the lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people? What say you?"

"I say unto you," the Master began, "welcome! Welcome and rise. Welcome, King Under the Mountain."

Malrin saw Bard sigh in disgust and turn away, fading into the crowd. The company was ushered up the steps into the large building. The Master greeted everyone personally, pausing when he got to Malrin.

"Braga! Why is this lovely lady tied up like a sack of potatoes?" he called out. Braga bowed low and hurried to unlock her shackles.

"My apologies, my lady. I had no idea who you were," Braga said. Jern rolled his eyes behind Braga's back. Malrin just scowled at Braga, her eyes cold.

"Show them to their rooms, I'd say three. The men can split in half and the lady can have her own room." The Master shooed them off. "There will be a feast in two hours. A guard can show you the way."

The company was led to two large rooms. "This is for your pleasure," Braga said, showing them the rooms. "The lady will be down the hall, three doors to the left."

The Dwarves and Bilbo stayed to decide who was sharing with who while Malrin was walked down the hall to her own room. It was much smaller, but no less cozy.

"If you need anything, my lady," Braga said sweetly, leaning close. Malrin backed up, away from him.

"I think I shall be alright," she said, deciding to drop the act since the Master was welcoming them in.

"Ah, she speaks," Beon said, sneering slightly. "What a wonderful sound it is."

She wanted him away from her, so she decided to lie, hoping he was a man of honor.

"I'll have you know I am betrothed to someone, a prince at that, so pardon me if I do not accept your advances," she said coldly.

Braga's sneer dropped. "Was making no 'vances, my lady," he mumbled. Bowing, he left the room quickly. Malrin sighed deeply and sunk onto the bed. She still felt sick from the guards holding her down in the armory.

Her stomach was churning and she suddenly felt like she was going to be sick. Rushing to the bathroom, she ended up being sick violently.

"Malrin!" She relaxed slightly at the welcome voice. Fili rushed to her side and brushed her hair back from her face, an easy task since her braids were still in. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. She didn't want to see the look of disgust on his face when she told the truth.

"Perhaps I can help." It was Thorin. Fili looked from Malrin to his uncle and back, only leaving when Malrin nodded. Thorin had a warm, wet cloth and used it to gently wipe her face.

"Why are you being so nice?" Malrin asked quietly.

"I may have been wrong about you," Thorin admitted. "I have a younger sister, Fili and Kili's mother. I never want to see her make the face you made when those guards held you down. No lady, no matter what race, should ever have to make that face."

He helped her to her feet and to her bed. She got under the covers on her own. She watched as Thorin sighed and pulled up a chair.

"I...I was wrong for what I said in Mirkwood. I know you do not want my crown. And...I know that you truly feel for Fili. I was a stubborn fool, choosing not to see that Fili has found his One."

"Why now?" she asked.

"Because there is a chance we will die when we take on the dragon. I will not begrudge my sister-son a chance at happiness anymore. So, you have my blessing," Thorin said, giving a tiny smile.

"Thank you," she said. Thorin stood and looked down at her.

"I have never asked, but what exactly is the other half to your heritage?"

She paused, then decided to just answer truthfully. "My father was a Dwarf. Abram."

"Your father was Abram, son of Daram? I knew him," Thorin said quietly. "Not well, we weren't close but we talked every now and then. He was a good man. If you don't mind, how did he die?"

"Orcs. He was getting herbs for my mother. She was sick in bed after giving birth to me. Only one survivor came home that day, and it wasn't him."

"I am sorry," he said, pausing to think something over. "You know, Fili will not think differently of you, should he learn the truth." He paused as it sunk in for her. "I shall send Fili in at your request. I'll take my leave now." Thorin bowed to her and left the room. A few minutes later, Fili came in. He walked to the chair his uncle had just vacated and sat.

"I am sorry for whatever grief my uncle gave you," Fili said. Malrin chuckled lightly.

"He gave me no grief. He has done the opposite," Malrin said, sitting up.

Fili's brows rose in surprise. "He has?"

"Aye. He has given us his blessing." Malrin found it amusing as Fili struggled to wrap his mind around the concept.

"My uncle? Thorin? Are we talking about the same person?" he asked, grinning as Malrin laughed.

She sobered up slightly as she replied. "He said since there was a great chance of dying soon, he would not begrudge you this chance at happiness."

"And it only took a dragon," Fili jested. He smiled as she laughed again. "So, I guess that leaves me with a question."

"And what would your question be?" Malrin asked with a small smile.

Fili stood and bowed to her, his hair hanging around his face. "My lady, would you accept my proposal of courtship?"

"I would be honored, my prince," Malrin said. "But you would have to teach me the ways of Dwarvish courting. I'm afraid my skills are lacking in that area."

"It would be my pleasure. Well, traditionally, I would ask for courtship in front of witnesses. In this case, the company. And I would be wearing my status. Basically, I would be wearing my trousers, my arm cuffs, and my royal beads. The company would watch me come up to you and ask. They would hear your answer. If you accepted, then we would begin courting. If not, I would be sent back to my room and you would go on your way."

"Why not do it the traditional way then? Wait until tonight's feast?" she asked.

"I thought you wouldn't like that. I didn't want to put you on the spot. And also, I was worried that if I had done that, Uncle would've been furious and gone after you," Fili said.

"Well, he has given his blessing, so feel free to do it the traditional way. You're a prince, it's only expected," she said, smiling.

"Very well. At the feast, I shall ask again. As for now, forgetting customs in the face of an quest that we cannot be certain we'll live through, may I ask for a kiss?" he asked.

Malrin flushed and looked away. "I'm afraid you're going to find me lacking in experience in that area. A century alone does not help."

"Well, you're never going to get better without practice," Fili pointed out. Malrin blushed harder and nodded, still looking away. Fili reached out slowly and placed one hand on her cheek, turning her head towards him. He moved in just as slow, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. Malrin held still, her eyes closing as Fili finally pressed his lips against hers.

Malrin let him take the lead, giving up all control. Fili kept it gentle, knowing this was her first kiss. After a tender moment, he pulled back. She opened her eyes and Fili found himself drowning in emerald pools.

"How was it, my lady?" he asked.

"Very..." Malrin was frustrated she couldn't find words to describe. Fili chuckled and smoothed out her wrinkled brow with his thumb.

"It's fine. I understand. Now, are you up for the feast?" he asked her.

She nodded and got up, noting that she felt much better than when she came here.

"Let's go see if it is done then," Fili said, holding his hand out. She took it and they walked from the room, meeting no one on their way. Before they entered the room the Master had pointed out earlier, Fili stopped. "You go in. I will come in when everyone is there and ask."

"Okay," Malrin said. Fili gave the back of her hand a kiss and stepped back into the shadows. She straightened her tunic and took a deep breath, opening the door.

Not many were there, as there was still twenty minutes before the feast started. There were a few humans setting the table. Balin, Dwalin, and Thorin were in a huddle in one corner. The three nodded in greeting to her before going back to talking. She looked around and saw, with great disgust, how elaborate everything was when the rest of the town looked to be suffering.

In all her travels, she had only come to Lake-town once, before this Master had come into his power. It was after Smaug had taken over the mountain. The town had been distraught, but they stuck together, the Master of the time doing his best to pull through. This Master only thought about himself, nothing more.

"That's her. I heard she's an Elf."

"An Elf? No way. She has to be a Dwarf. She's so short."

"Look at her ears. Maybe she's a half-breed?"

"That would explain everything."

Malrin tried to ignore the whispers of the humans as she strode to a seat and sat down. The voices were female, two of the women that were on the other side of the room, hanging lanterns.

The two laughed and the first one spoke again. "I wonder why she's traveling with thirteen male Dwarves and a male Hobbit."

Even though they were both whispering, the second dropped her voice even lower. Malrin only heard because of her Elven hearing. "Do you think she's an escort?"

The first one snorted. "Probably. These Dwarves are so ugly, they have to pay for it."

Malrin heard enough. She stood, striding over to where the two women were. They were both taller than her, one with light brown hair and hazel eyes, the other with black hair and dark brown eyes. They watched her get closer with a trace of fear in their eyes.

"Pardon me for intruding, but unless you have all the facts, I wouldn't waste energy on gossip. I'm not an escort, nor have I ever been. In fact, if anyone here looks like an escort, it's you two. Do you not serve your Master in any way possible?" Malrin asked. The pinched looks on their faces told her she was right. "So, if you would be so kind, stop talking about my friends." She turned away to go back to her seat when the first one spoke again.

"You act like you are better than us, yet you are nothing more than a half-breed." Malrin turned back and looked towards the brunette. "You are probably following them because one showed you attention. You are starved for it, are you not?"

She didn't get a chance to say anything else because at that moment Malrin shoved her, causing her to drop the vase she had been holding. The brunette narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists. Malrin instantly dropped into a fighting stance, one leg bent for support, the other stretched out behind her, her hands clenched and raised.

"Whoa, is everything okay?" Thorin asked from behind Malrin. Balin was to her left, Dwalin to her right. Malrin straightened, relaxing her stance.

"Everything is fine, your Majesty," the black-haired girl said, bowing and taking her friend's arm. She began tugging, leading them away. "It was just a misunderstanding."

"Make sure it stays that way," Thorin said. The black-haired girl nodded and ran off, dragging her friend behind her.

"You okay?" Dwalin gruffly asked. Malrin sighed and nodded.

"Happens all the time. Though, in my past, no one has ever intervened before," she said, looking to the three. "Thank you."

"It was no problem, lass," Balin said. "Now, let's find good seats before the rest get here." Malrin sent one last glare towards the door the two humans had gone through and found her seat, forgetting the drama and looking forward to when everyone was seated.