60 years ago…

A deafening roar made Ferin wince. She turned her head to her shoulder, as if it would prevent her ears from bursting. A hot, burning wind sucked the breath from her lungs. Her skin was on fire.

People were screaming outside. A woman's yell was cut off abruptly with a violent crack of stone from the tower above her. We'll be trapped in here, Ferin thought. A shadow, long and swift, passed over Dale again, and then turned for the Mountain.

A brief relief. Ferin stretched out her arm under the table, coughing against the smoke curling in the air. The shop was on fire, but she couldn't leave. Not yet. Crouched low, Ferin tried again. "We have to leave, little one. Please!"

Beneath the wide family table (the only thing left standing and in tact) there was a child. A little Dwarfling boy, crying out for his mother and clutching a wooden leg of the table with all his strength. His eyes were shut tight, and he was hoarse from his shouts for help and bouts of coughing.

The noise grew louder, and she could hear what could only be the great gate of Erebor break.

She twitched her hand. "Come! The beast will return back this way. We must find shelter!"

The little boy, full head of curled hair and no higher than her knee, finally released his death grip, uncurling and reaching towards her.

Ferin nodded encouragingly. "Good lad! That's it."

For a heartbeat, he hesitated, and then he threw himself at her. She hugged him tight -

There was a creak, a snap, and the roof caved in, collapsing on top of them both. A heavy support beam struck her, and she blacked out.

Gasping, Ferin came too, immediately trying to assess the situation. It was quieter. The smoke had thinned from its release through the gaping hole in the ceiling. Her back was tense with pain, her legs trapped beneath wood and stone, and her hands were covered in cuts.

For a hopeful moment, Ferin felt around for purchase and pushed up with a grimace. Her hand slipped -

Where was the boy?

A frantic search. A rough call. "Hello? Boy?"

There. Three feet away, a small arm the only part of him exposed under all the debris, his hand half curled and unmoving.

She gasped harshly, not realising she'd held her breath at the discovery.

Something in her chest clawed its way to her throat, and tore through tissue and bone and flesh. For a long moment, Ferin shut her eyes tightly, and held her breath until she could see stardust, and then she released everything in one deep breath, desperate to drive out the overwhelming pain.

Smoke and dust turned everything grey. Ferin reached out to the little hand. Just as her fingers brushed his, a segment of the remaining ceiling broke, and dropped like stone to pin her arm. Dragon fire alight on the wood, seared the skin. She screamed -

Ferin gasped, sitting up quickly and clutching her right forearm with pale fingers. Sweat marred her brow and upper body, the tunic clinging uncomfortably to the skin of her back.

She'd thought that nightmare long buried.

"Ferin?" Vala called gently from the other side of the door to her room. "We're moving out.".

Ferin nodded, though her friend couldn't see. "Alright. Give me a few moments."

Ferin heard Vala murmur a soft assent, before her steps faded away down the hall. Ferin stood, still clutching her arm, and made her way to the washroom. There, she submerged her burning arm in cold water with a sigh. Once numb enough, she dried it, cleaned herself, and got dressed. The only thing she left off was the vambrace of her burned arm. Instead, Ferin pulled up the sleeve and secured it above her elbow. Some air might help the old wound. Armour donned, and coat draped over her other arm, Ferin left the room to find the others.

The halls were quiet at this hour. The twilight before dawn always struck Ferin as a strange, ethereal comfort. There was no one to watch you. No one yet ready to face the world; or, at least, none to be seen in such a place as Imladris.

She found them where they always were this past week; at their makeshift camp on the balcony on the outskirts of Lord Elrond's House. She stood watching them quietly gather their effects. Vala, who had stayed with them, unlike Ferin, had two packs ready to go. Her friend glanced up, smiling in greeting, before heaving the larger pack towards her with a heavy throw.

Ferin, surprised, dropped her coat and caught it with a small grunt. "I'm to be the pack mule then, I take it?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. She pressed her lips together to stop the smirk when she lowered the pack to the ground and revealed her face to Vala.

Vala laughed lowly, tempering her amusement lest it alert someone in the vicinity. They were trying to leave under the cover of the early morning. Vala's booming laughter may ruin their plans. "Of course. When have you ever not been the ass?"

Ferin shook her head with a smile. "Well, aren't you in a good mood this morning."

"Have to be. You're not going to do it. You've spent our precious time brooding."

Ferin frowned. That was partially true. After her… confrontation with Thorin, she had kept her distance for the remaining time of their stay. She had trained with Vala every day, but ate meals in her room. When the others managed to catch her, they asked why she wouldn't join them. Ferin suspected Thorin had told them all about their altercation, but when none of the others seemed different towards her, she had been surprised. Reluctant to create more tension, Ferin simply avoided the questions by claiming a need for space and rest. "We will have plenty of time to get to know each other on the way, I'm sure," she had said to Master Kili, a few days into her voluntary isolation. He had been trying to get her to train with him. A trade, he had said. He would help her with archery if she helped him with close combat. She had refused as kindly as possible, slapping him on the shoulder to soften the blow, before walking away.

She had not been far enough away not to hear Thorin's words that followed her. "You don't need to learn from the likes of her. Do not let her sway you. I'm sure Lady Vala would like someone to spar with, if you're so keen."

Gentle fingers wrapping around her burned wrist pulled Ferin back to the present, and she looked up to find Vala staring at the marred skin. Her friend looked up, brow furrowed. Ferin opened her mouth to brush away her friend's concerns, but Bofur beat her to it.

"Are you alright, lass?"

"I'm fine, Master Bofur. Thank you." Ferin gently pulled her arm out of Vala's grasp.

"Does it hurt?" Bilbo asked.

Ferin gave a solemn nod. "Sometimes, yes."

"Where did you get it from?" Ori asked, pausing in packing away his books.

Ferin hesitated. The others, having nearly finished cleaning up after themselves, stood straighter and watched. She flicked her gaze around to each of them, before looking back to Ori. "Dale. A very long time ago."

The air was so still. Ferin felt like they had all held their breath at once.

Thorin's voice came at last. "You... were there?"

Ferin regarded him, unable to read his expression. "I was," she answered. She looked down at her arm, remembering. "I tried to save as many as I could. My last attempt ended in the death of a small Dwarf boy. The roof collapsed, and he was… he was buried." She looked up once more. "When I left the building, my arm was useless. I couldn't help anyone else, so I walked. I... couldn't help but follow, when everyone fled. I had nothing else."

"Is that why you travel with us?" Dwalin asked roughly, his scowl fierce and unforgiving. "You seek what you are owed for your efforts?"

Ferin frowned, completely thrown by his sudden hostility.

"You seek to claim part of our home? As reward for your 'help'?" Thorin accused.

Ferin could only stare, before she huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "Of all my years, that is the most ridiculous accusation I have ever faced."

"You think it funny?" Thorin growled.

Unable to provide an appropriate response to their wild assumption other than, "Yes. I do," Ferin put on her coat and picked up her pack. She turned towards Thorin with a bemused smile. "Think what you will of me, Thorin Oakenshield. I don't care for gold or treasure, and I most definately don't care for a claim on your home. My services are to protect you and your kin, and I give you my word that I will do just that, and no more." Bowing politely, she kept her face neutral. "I will meet you all at the beginning of the path, when you are ready."

With that, Ferin spun on her heel and strode away. Too long without company, Ferin now recognised her foolishness. She had forgotten how quick people could turn.

It was times like these that made Ferin feel every one of her years.

A/N: A short one I'm afraid. Thank you so much for your continuing support! Much love. - ZeB xx