Once again she found herself surrounded by soldiers, peering out over a wall made of stone at another great valley. Unlike Erebor this place felt different. It was different after all. No matter how hard she tried, it felt like just another city. At first she tried to settle in but it seemed useless.

Leaning against the wall, she peered out over the open land, at the line where the forest stood like a wall against the open landscape. Autumn was fast approaching, the trees in the distance had started to show the occasional shimmer of gold.

As she stared out at the forest, she imagined herself running through the trees. The cool breeze against her face combined with the scent of rich soil. She desired the freedom the forest gave her. The freedom to disappear into the wilds.

"Elfling!" A dwarf called yanking her from her day dream. Turning she recognized the voice. Radmer, an ill-mannered dwarf, was yelling at her from further along the wall. His bright red hair stood out. "The horses need their stalls cleaned out, get to it!"

With a sigh, Frin headed towards the stables, not even bothering to answer him. Grabbing a shovel along the way, she traced the familiar steps to the stable. One year of this, and she was coming to her wits end. No matter how hard she tried there was no validation. Constantly she was left with the manure, the jobs nobody wanted to do. Her attempts to please the people around her always fell short. A kind of sadness had settled into her soul, making everything pointless. She could leave but there was Thorin.

Even the thought of him brought her a tiny semblance of hope. Some nights, she would lie alone remembering him, his smile and touch. His visits had become few. He was constantly with his Father and Grandfather, bound by duty to the family. There were whispers in the air, planning for a great battle but they were only rumours. During the scarse moments when they were together, she never asked him what was going on. His face wore the stress and she hoped to be a distraction, a source of peace.

In all her time in the Iron Hills she hadn't managed to make any new friends. Her fellow guards on the wall wanted nothing to do with her. Most people avoided her in the street, even Dwalin had grown distant. He would only acknowledge her with a glance. Balin, however, had remained constant. If she came to his home he would welcome her with a smile. He was her closest friend, always honest with her, looking out for her wellbeing.

When she first arrived back in the city, he had warned her about the mood of the people. As time had moved on, their anger towards Thranduil had deepened. They had grown hateful. He warned her to be careful, she had waved him off. Foolishly she thought the people were capable of seeing her as one of them, just as they once had.

At first, there were angry glances and muttering voices whenever she approached. It didn't take long for the glances to become glares and the voices to become insults. After a while, she grew used to being called elfling, pointy eared and an assortment of creative monikers for her elvish heritage. Now, she hardly noticed the taunts and jeers but they were still there.

Their jeers were a quiet echo in the distance as she approached the stables. Inside the place was just as she left it. After all it was her who had cleaned them the day before, and the day before that. It didn't take her long to complete the dirty, repetitive task but when she emerged the sun had started to dip instantly, cooling the air in the city. A distant bell chimed twice from on the wall, a signal. Her shift was over.

Heading back to her bunk she was stopped by a small dwarven boy in the middle of the market. The mess of dark curly hair on his head bounced when he approached her. "Are you the elf?" He asked big piercing eyes staring at her.

Kneeling down to look the child in the eye, she sighed. "Depends who you ask."

"I'm supposed to give this to ya," he handed her a rolled piece of parchment.

"Thank you." Frin took it with a forced smile. Having succeeded at his task the small boy raced off into the crowd. Dark hair disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. With the child gone and the parchment in her hands, Frin ducked in between two market stalls, hiding in the dim shadows. Carefully, she unrolled the parchment to reveal the familiar handwriting she was hoping to see.

The elegant curvature of the Westron instantly made her heart swell. It had been two weeks since she'd seen him or heard from him. She longed for him, his voice, his touch.

'Frin, meet me at the treeline at dusk. Wait by the road, bring your bow.' The short note was enough to lift her spirits slightly. Spending an evening in the forest was often enough to centre her but spending the time with him would surely be far more enjoyable.

Knowing it was nearing dusk, Frin strode toward the barracks to gather her bow and weapons. The small chest which sat at the foot of her bed held everything she had, a few shirts, trousers and her spare knives. Seeing the knives she decided to bring them. Having all of her weapons on her made her feel normal, more like herself. The only remaining objects in her chest were a few sets of clothes. It was hard not to muse about how different her life had become.

Once she passed through the gate, dodging the hate filled glares, she took a deep breath. The air past the city walls felt cleaner. The cool air was refreshing, welcoming.

The walk across the open landscape to the treeline was quiet. The usually busy road was abandoned, everyone who intended to travel was safe within the city walls. She felt herself long for a different time, a simpler one. A time when she would wander around the edge of the Lonely Mountain to be with him under the stars.

As the treeline grew closer, she could make out a figure leaning against a nearby tree watching her approach. He wore a deep blue with a light scale armour. As she approached, he turned towards her. The stoic glaze he now permanently wore bore through her.

Coming to a stop in front of him she offered a small smile hoping to break the hardened expression. When his face didn't change, she felt instantly defeated.

"So," she forced herself to be cheerful, "what are we doing out here?"

"I needed to get away for a moment," he pushed himself off the tree, "How do you feel about an evening hunt?"

"Sounds wonderful." She moved so he could lead. Moving along the road, deeper into the forest, Frin kept her eyes and ears focused for signs of wildlife.

"Are you content with my people?" Thorin asked her suddenly. There was something veiled behind his words, which prodded at her.

"Are they not my people too?" Frin replied.

"They do not see you as one of us."

"They used to." Frin fell into step beside him. "In time they will again." The statement was more for herself than him, something to reassure her of the future. The words were familiar to her, something she said to herself often.

"Your people betrayed us." Thorin stopped, turning to face her. "Do you expect them to forgive that?"

"My people?" Frin felt her anger fill her. How could they throw her aside so easily after all she had done for them. "What happened to the daughter of the mountain? They are my people. Never once have I allied myself with the elves of Mirkwood."

"You are an elf." Throin raised an eyebrow at her.

"Half." The fury and raw emotion she suppressed over the past year started to rise in her. Every snided glance, every hurtful word filled her mind. It was clear the people around her hated her existence. Hearing him say it, confirming how the dwarfs saw her was too much for her. "Why are you asking me these things?" She pleaded.

"Why did you stay with us?" He ignored her question.

"I gave you my word."

Throin scoffed, "Really? Or are you spying on us, waiting to tell your elvish friends our plans for Erebor." He started to hiss. "Are you just waiting around for me to need you again, so you can turn your back? You are an elf, and I can see you now, clearer than ever. Your pointed ears and lack of emotion. All this time you have been getting close to me just to pass on information to Thranduil, that spineless worm. You manipulate me to get close to my family, to pull me away from my duty." He started stepping towards her, the rage clear on his face. "You almost succeeded! My ignorance...youthful naivety let you use me. You saw our deepest secrets and Thranduil used them." His hand was on his sword. "My grandfather was right about your kind, greedy, selfish."

The hate filled words and his growing aggression sent sparks of fear through her. Was he going to kill her? "I am not a spy. Thorin you asked me to stay with you and I promised I would." The desperation was clear in her voice.

"You did that." He roared, "you made me need you, played with my emotions. Of course I wanted you to stay. You warmed my bed, only to use me. You want my family's gold."

"I do not." She tried to say.

"Lies." He spat. "You are nothing more than an elf."

She felt her back hit a nearby tree stopping her involuntary retreat. He had trapped her. "Is that all I am to you?" The tears fell on their own volition.

"Yes." The venom tore through her. A single word did more damage to her than the dragon did. She didn't trust the dragon. She wouldn't die for the dragon.

Unsure what to say, she mumbled the first thought to come to her mind. "Now you kill me."

He leaned in towards her, his hand still clearly grasping the hilt of his sword. "I should."

Closing her eyes she waited for the sting of metal on her flesh but it didn't come. After a moment of waiting she heard the sound of retreating footsteps. Opening her eyes she saw his back turned to her.

"Leave." The command was clear in his voice as he headed back to the Iron Hills.

Frozen to the spot, Frin watched him go. She felt sick to the core of her being. Everything she had lived for over the past couple of years was gone. Her worst fears were realized.

Finally, in the now dark forest her legs gave out. On the hard, damp ground she silently cried. She knew why but the emotion seemed long gone. There was a weight in her chest which felt familiar but a pain that was new. What was she going to do now?