A/N I'm soooo Sorry! I've being so busy this week and this took so much longer then I expected! It just did not want to get out of my brain and onto my laptop! Anyway! Here it is!

Enjoy!

I spent most of the night listening to the waves as they lapped against the river bank. It caused my head to relax and not think about the problems I was about to face, or had faced before. I could only think about the water as it sent me sleep and woke me.

"Good morning Ranger." I cracked my eye open, leaning up slightly to look at the dwarf who was standing beside my head. My green hooded cloak slipped from my front as I sat up, Gloin standing beside me.

"Good morning Gloin!" I smiled pensively at the water before I stood up, stretching as I turned to the dwarf. "Did you want to see me?"

"Thorin wants to speak with you." Oh yay! Thorin wants to speak with me. This sounds great! I nodded at the red-haired dwarf, running my hands through my hair to get out any knots, and walked over to where Thorin was sat.

I stood beside him for a few moments. He knew I was there, but he did not say anything for a short while. I held my breath for most of that time, waiting for something to happen.

I was the one this time to break the silence.

"You wanted to see me, Thorin?" He didn't turn to me straight, he just sat up fully instead of leaning over his knees as he had being before I had spoke. He turned slightly to me and motioned for me to sit down on the log nearby him.

"You are close with the elves earlier?" I bit my lip; I had never called my relationship with Elladan and Elrohir close. They were, well I guess they were, my friends. If anyone I owe that life-debt to, it was them. They saved my life too many times and I guess I am forever grateful.

"I guess you could say that,"

The last time I was fully saved them was before I became allied with them, I was 26. I had felt pretty experienced with a sword when they found me, but I was wrong. I was so wrong. I was just west of Rivendell, near the place known as Trollshaws in later life. It was getting dark when I was heading towards Rivendell in hope of asking for refuge.

I then heard the sound of laughter, high-pitched and almost animal in nature. I spun around looking for the source, my blade in my hand and prepared for attack. "Who's there?" I yelled out, thinking that someone would answer. I know now yelling at the voices you hear isn't always the best idea. One because I used to think I could hear voices and I was thought to be insane for a sort while as I would yell out at them.

Someone did answer, more something. An orc or goblin, I'm not quite sure what it was really since it was getting dark, was stood before me as it cackled loudly. I charged forward, my sword positioned so that I could attack it. It just grinned and dived to the side, before I ran into a warg pack. Seeing them, I spun on the balls of my feet and attempted to scramble away.

"Dunedain." I heard a voice snarl at me, the meant that I turned towards its source, only to take a look at the orc that had named me by my race. Only to find that I was facing the white orc.

"Azog," The pale orc grinned, motioning his warg to move closer to me. I stood up tall, my back straightened. The warg only stopped a hairs breath away from me, its breath pushing against my skin in warm patches.

"I'm sure you know of my two goals," He snarled down at me, leaning over his warg's shoulder until his face was almost level with my own. I pushed my lips together grimly. I did know of this orc's goals. He was insane but some reason passionate about them. At this time I only knew of the line of Durin in passing, from stories and songs I'd heard in Bree from my time there in the alehouse, but Azog's goals of destroying both my family and the family Durin. I did not know the reasoning behind the Durin line goal, but I knew the reasoning behind his wanting to kill me.

My father had killed one of his two sons.

At the time, I was not too bothered by him wanting to kill me, as my mind was elsewhere. True I still feared for my life, but by elsewhere I meant that my mind was concentrating on the fact that someone had to sleep with Azog so that he could have two sons. Well that's if their anatomy is anything like my own, which I guessed, it was.

I nodded finally, which caused the orc before me to laugh. The warg in front of my face snarled and blew out its foul-stained breath at me, as it's master rose his severed arm and prepared to kill me like he had my father.

That was when Elladan and Elrohir jumped through the trees on pale horses, the pale orc's followers scattered at one of the twins pulled me up on to his horse. We then fled, leaving five orcs dead in our dust tracks.

"But it was more my life debt then a friend ship." I glanced over to Thorin, his eyes still not looking up at me. Fine then 'cocky' dwarf; don't look at the ranger who you're talking to!

"The elf was demanding I forced you to go back," Thorin glared at me slightly, thinking about what had happened, or so I thought he was.

"Lord Elrond has foreseen what they think to be my death," I stated, moving my eyes away from Thorin and glancing at where the other dwarves were packing up camp. All of them except Kili, who seemed to be still asleep. I grinned at this fact and begun to debate a way of getting payback for his crimes/pranks.

"Is that what you meant by 'I will die with them'?" I nodded at what Thorin asked, before grabbing an empty goblet off of the side and grinned to myself.

"Is that all?" I tossed to goblet from my left hand to right and back. My eyes light up with mirth as I lifted the goblet up. It was a goblet. That I knew for certain.

"Yes, thank you Derrowyn," I felt the murder threats I normally had when someone called me by that name bubble on the edge of my mouth, but I didn't say anything, I just nodded and walked towards the river, the goblet in tow.

When I reached the river, I grinned, leaning down to feel the water run through my hands like the satin of my mothers wedding dress that she often showed me. She was proud of that dress as much as I was proud of my work. Water was my satin, my tool and my reminder. I scooped the water into the goblet, filling it with enough water before striding over to the sleeping dwarf.

Payback time, Kili.

I stood nearby the young dwarf, laughing slightly as I tipped the water on the dwarves face. He spluttered awake and swore. I burst into a fit of laughter and heard a few of the bystander dwarves chuckle away saying things like "Payback's a Derrowyn," and "Good on you girl,"

The young dwarf glared at me before standing up and cursing at me in his native language. Since I didn't understand, I skipped off merrily with my bag on my shoulder. My eyes looking up at the mountain just beyond the trees as Balin came to stand beside me, his eyes watched my amazement in mirth.

"Erebor, the Lonely Mountain," Balin spoke, my eyes still fixated on this mountain and my imagination ran wild with ideas of what could be inside. "It's truly a sight to behold, as you can see lass."

I heard the dwarves behind me laugh at Kili as he walked towards them, soaked in water. I smiled at the older dwarf, looking back at the mountain. He was right, it was a sight to behold. "When do we set off?"

"Soon, lass," Balin said, turning away from me slightly as I continued to look up at the mountain, as if I was expecting some sort of rainbow to fly from its peak. "Very soon."

Balin placed his hand on my shoulder before turning back to the dwarves. I stayed at the point by the tree, my eyes focused and centred on the mountain. My mind stilling on the image before me, I wanted to get closer to the mountain, but I had a feeling I defiantly didn't want to.

Thorin then yelled at the others so to tell them that we were heading out very soon. I grinned and walked back over to them, making sure I had everything when we begun our final walk towards the mountain.

As we approached I noticed that any mirth in the dwarves was gone, the only happiness found in that company was the smiles I had. They all seemed awkward to speak to me, since the incident with the twins had confused and probably angered them. The surrounding ground, as we approached the mountain, became more and more barren and bleak. I had a feeling that the dwarves were trying to be stealthy, but the atmosphere created by this attempt was strained, weary. Any hope seemed drained from the eyes of the younger dwarves, and some of the older dwarves seemed to be reliving memories. Bilbo, small burgler Bilbo, looked even wearier of the journey compared to the others. I remembered being told that the Halfling did not even want to leave his own front door to begin with, for him to get this far and relatively unharmed was a good start.

The feelings of the dwarves seemed to pour into me as I treaded slightly behind the company, my eyes scanning what was left of the plants around me. I begun to wonder how Lord Elrond had envisioned my death, was it in fire, was staked through the heart by the claws of this dragon, or was it somehow different. Elrohir had said it was 'with' them, so that ruled out the claws of the dragon one, but it still made me ponder the idea as I plodded along behind the dwarves.

I was drifting slowly away from the company, which caused me to jog slightly to catch up with the dwarves, who grumbled something at me when I had managed it.

It was almost mid-day when we reached what was left of Dale. The fires had almost obliterated the town, the orange stone dusting itself in invisible gusts of wind, which danced over the path and towards me, causing my throat to dry up and cough slightly. My eyes continued to scan the town. It was truly empty. Neither creature nor plant had even attempted to grow in the town. Life itself here was void.

I could hear Balin behind me as he spoke to the younger dwarves. "There lies all that is left of Dale," I turned away from looking up at the town and back to the older dwarf, who was walking only a few steps away from me. "The mountain's sides were green with woods and all the sheltered valley rich and pleasant in the days when the bells rang in the town."

"It must have being very beautiful…" I said, frowning and continuing to look up at the town. No one dared walk any closer, not by any path that led towards the mountain or even around it. This dragon instilled complete fear in the dwarves. This fear radiating onto me.

As we closed in on the mountain, I finally noticed something pouring from caverns but not as I had hoped for earlier. It was smoke. The dragon was surely alive. We did not have time to set up a camp as according to Balin we had that day to find this entrance, and I could have already felt the midday sun beating down on my back.

I was almost glad we took boats instead of ponies because I did not want to be tending to the ponies whilst I stayed with them. No, instead I was following them through this narrow passageway on the side of the mountain, towards a ledge that was not facing the smoking front gate. This ledge led up, and up, and up. Below my feet was an almost smooth face of rock, which held a door, a door that Thorin, had a key to. Of course, at this time, I had no idea and I was blindly following the thirteen dwarves and their burglar up a rock face.

We then came to a ledge, a doorstep there. I grinned slightly, feeling the surface under my feet widen and give me more area to stand. The ledge continued to widen so that all 15 of us could fit on it; an 'doorstep' shaped ledge in the corner where Mr Baggins sat.

The mood of the dwarves mellowed, Mr Baggins looking the most depressed of them all. I walked over and sat beside him, attempting a grin at him whilst I did. We could both just about hear the dwarves speaking about sending one of us to explore the surrounding area. I groaned and rolled my eyes. My feet ached, I'd thought I was used to it, but I wasn't. My head still ached from not getting comfortable sleep. My legs ached everywhere and I could feel my chest ache from a drained feeling of emotions.

I stood up slowly, facing the wall in confusion. When I was sat down, I had noticed something about the wall behind me: it was ever so slightly further forward, or back, I don't really remember correctly, but it was some how different.

Slowly, I rested my hand on the rock, running it over it until I felt a sharp yet slight drop in the rock. "Bilbo," I hissed down at the hobbit, my eyes focused on the rock in confusion.

"Ranger?" He looked up at me for a few moments, waiting for my response. When I continued to look at the rock without replying to him, he stood up and looked at the stone with me.

I continued to run my hands over the rock in confusion until I felt something like a keyhole. I bent down to find my suspicions correct. It was a keyhole. A keyhole, in rock. A keyhole in rock. "A keyhole!" I practically yelled, only to soon find myself pushed away by the other dwarves who seemed ecstatic to hear this. I stumbled back quickly, sliding down on the rock nearby.

"The key! The key!" Bilbo was almost yelling also, his eyes scanning the thirteen for Thorin, who stepped forward quickly. "The key that went with the map! Try it now!" I blinked at them, in pure confusion. Key? Map? Well sure, I spent time looking at the map, so I knew it existed, but it came with a key? Well that's one bundle I didn't know before they had told me, inavertedly. Thanks. I was technically putting my life on the line being with them at this time, so why had they not told me? I knew at least one of them knew Sindiarn, so at least one of them knew. I would find out who, but at that time I was more bothered about getting up off of the floor again.

I heard a snapping noise as the key slipped into the lock. Cracks appearing over the door and I soon saw the thirteen dwarves pushing against the rock. It swiftly moved aside as I finally managed to stand, grinning as I walked over to the group, by bag rubbing against my shoulder as we slowly all moved into the tight rock passageway. I was not near the front at the time, but from what Bilbo later told me, it was like this: 'it seemed as if darkness flowed out like a vapour from the hole in the mountain-side, and a deep darkness in which nothing could be seen lay before our eyes, a yawning mouth leading in and down.'

Honestly, he is better at describing things like this then me; I would have simply said it was dark. Bloody dark. Like so dark I couldn't see two dwarves in front of me. It was a tight passageway that led into the side of the mountain and down. However, Mr Baggins is much more proper than I am; he's a 'very respectable' hobbit, I'm an exiled sister who fell in love young, had my heart ripped out and then I became a 'traitor' according to my own brother. So I expect Mr Baggins to be able to describe a passageway better than I can.

I could feel a coolness wash over my body as my feet followed in the footsteps of the dwarves, soles of my shoes pressing down on the cool - yet dry - rock. Following the dwarves, blindly, into the midst of a dragon who had destroyed the surrounding land.

A dragon who stole Thorin's crown.

A dragon whose destruction meant I would never have met Thorin, now or when I was younger. As I now think over that last point, I've noticed I've neglected to explain to you how my father met Thorin when I was younger.

I was around seven when I was skipping through the town we lived in at the time, skipping towards the small smithy's where my father was. I was wearing an oversized boys tunic and pants, because at that age I still liked to refuse to wear dresses. At that age, people also often mistook me for a boy because my hair was never longer than my brothers for around two years. I was more feminine around the age of four, because I wasn't taken everywhere by my father, but by the age of six I was wearing my brother hand-me-downs because they fit me.

I still skipped though, as I was doing at the time when I was heading to the smithy. My father was inside so I, as I often did, jumped through the low window beside the door, which always made the smithy jump out of his mind. Except that day it was not the normal smithy, but a shorter man with a long mane of hair, much longer than mine. I beamed and walked towards him slightly, before being grabbed away by my own father.

"Derry, go home," My father said to me, kneeling down at my high and kissing my forehead. I was pushed out of the door, but that did not mean I went home. I knew the smithy quite well at that age, I played out with his son for a few years and he used to let me hide in his shop after closing time, so I was able to sit in side and still hear what they were saying. I don't remember a lot about the meaning behind everything at that time, but I was still able to hear everything they were saying

"- she's a lot like her mother, anyway she's not why we are here, sir." My father said to the dwarf. Who nodded awkwardly. I could just about make them out through the holes in the wooden walls.

"I cannot thank you enough for what you are doing ranger." The dwarf said, his voice a slight mix of anguish and hope as he spoke. It made the young me feel sorry for him.

"You don't have to. Just think it as a favour… from the son of Hoodin" Hoodin was my grandfather, and he was 'very clever', well that's all I remember of him. That's all anyone every said about him and I never questioned it, I really should have.

"I don't think you quite understand," the dwarf stepped towards the anvil slightly, placing his hands on the cool metal.

"Everyone who travels the world knows of your people's story, Thorin," My father stepped away from the dwarf, heading towards the door.

"Then please leave me to work," The dwarf turned back to my father who nodded and left. I stayed where I was stood for a few moments, watching the sad looking dwarf work.

As I kept my eyes ahead, attempting to see anything, I hoped that Thorin remembered me, or didn't remember me. I wasn't quite sure then, but I was sure if he did wouldn't he have already mentioned it.

I pondered on the fact before I tripped over one of the dwarves, not noticing that we had stopped in a slightly wider area. I got up and stood awkwardly waiting for someone to speak. Silence echoed through me as I waited. And waited.

Waited until someone spoke.

Honestly I felt awkward, and when someone did finally speak I felt even more awkward.