Chapter 1

Hanriel hated to see Revan in pain. From that first day when she'd woken up, Revan hadn't been… distant, per se, but she'd been hollow. Hanriel didn't know what she'd meant by what she said about seeing her family, but apparently the sight of them in her dreams had left her hollow. After her cries of pain and turmoil had ceased, she had lain there sobbing in Hanriel's arms, and eventually gone still. When she'd awoken the next day, her eyes had lost their life, and her expression had been vacant. She still ate, still slept, but didn't respond to conversation, or to any of them at all.

Thorin hadn't been much better. Without Revan's help managing his mind, Thorin had turned inward, barricading himself in Erebor, demanding that the dwarves search tirelessly for the Arkenstone. He had taken one look at Revan's hollow expression and turned away in disgust. Hanriel herself had gotten no thanks from Thorin for the dragon's killing blow, but didn't care; all she wanted was her girlfriend back.

As often as Thorin would let them, Balin, Fili and Kili were there to buoy her spirits, but still Revan remained unresponsive.

Leaving Revan in Balin's tender care, she sought out Thorin. It didn't take long to find him. According to the other dwarves, he was either in the hall where Smaug's body still lay, or inside the treasure hall where he had once slept, searching for the Arkenstone. As soon as she walked into the treasure hall she felt the oppressive weight of Smaug's presence over the hoard. There, in the thick of it, stood Thorin.

Wading mentally through the haze, she heard him muttering under his breath. "It is here. In these halls. I know it."

She made sure to make noise as she approached so as not to startle the newly-crowned Dwarvish king.

"Thorin?" she asked carefully, her voice pitched low.

Without moving or turning to look at her, he spoke. "Why are you not attending to Revan?"

She sighed and walked up beside him. "Balin's with her. She hasn't changed."

"A fortnight since we killed the beast, since she fell, and days since her howls echoed through the halls, and yet no improvement," expression unreadable.

"These things take time, Thorin," she said placatingly, trying not to rile him up. She moved to put a hand on his shoulder, but faster than she could believe, Orcrist was up and at her wrist, his eyes full of fury.

"I have lived with these dwarves for years," he hissed. "I know them well. None would betray me. The halfling and the human I knew for months before you joined our party, and the Wizard longer still. I trusted you for Revan's sake," he spat.

Affronted, Hanriel replied, "You cannot think that I would betray you? I want to see Revan in good health more than you, and it would do you good to remember." She slapped the blade away, and began her walk back to the door.

"You dare," he snarled, launching himself at her. Too late, she turned, sensing an attack. They rolled when they hit the ground, disturbing the mountains of gold.

"Thorin!" she cried, grasping his wrists which had been going for her throat. "You're not well. You have dragon sickness!"

"I am better than I have been in decades!" he roared, wrenching his wrists from her grasp and sending her tumbling down the hard, cold gold. Her short trip down the mountain had disastrous consequences; it disturbed the piles for yards around, burying Hanriel under an avalanche of yellow metal, and taking Thorin's support out from underneath him.

The weight of the gold was unbearable. It squeezed the air out of her lungs. She had landed belly-down, so she pushed herself upward, creating a small air pocket underneath her. Still, coins of ages past trickled down into the pocket, so once again she heaved herself up.

Subjectively, hours passed underneath the crushing weight, but she knew it had only been a few minutes objectively. She screamed as she heaved one last time, gold cascading from her back. She flopped over onto her back, and gasped for air, vision hazy with exertion, both mental and physical. She had fallen quite a ways before coming to rest under the gold, she realized, and would have to make her way back up the cascading piles without bringing another avalanche down on her head.

Surprisingly though, she felt hands on her forearms picking her up. Blinking away the dizziness and haze, she whirled, expecting Thorin back for a second bout, but all she found was Bilbo Baggins, hands up, looking small and miserable in the hall.

"He's in the entry hall with Smaug. Dwalin, Bofur, Dori and I barricaded him in there. He is not well," Bilbo hissed.

"I'm aware," she replied, dusting herself off. "How did you find me?"

From behind her she heard Dwalin's rough brogue and felt his heavy hand on her back. "We were half afraid the Dragon had left us a surprise, what with your roaring and bursting through the gold. You weren't hard to find, lass."

They were all silent for a moment before Bilbo spoke. "What are we going to do about Thorin?"

"We'll send someone in to check on him every once in a while," Bofur responded, "And if he's well enough, or if Revan wakes and fixes him, we'll let him out."

Hanriel nodded, still mentally hazy.

"Don't worry lass, we'll get you fixed up," she heard before passing out.

She awoke beside Revan in bed, to whispered discussion outside the door.

"She's one of them," she heard Bofur say. "She'll be able to talk to them."

"But what do they want?" asked Fili. "Why are they here? And with so many armed elves?"

"He's right," said Kili. "She'll be able to talk to them."

Once again Fili: "How do we know she won't be on their side?"

"Don't be an idiot, lad," Dwalin grumbled. "Have you seen how she looks at our girl? Not to mention she chose her over her own king,"

"A king which is currently outside our doors with a thousand armed elves," Ori replied, and Hanriel decided she'd had enough and sat up.

"They want the gems," she said, her voice pitched so they could hear her, but so Revan wouldn't be woken.

In walked the group. Most of the dwarves of the company were there, in fact.

"What gems, lass?" asked Balin.

"The white gems of Lasgalen," she replied, hefting one of Revan's pouches.

"Of course," Balin whispered, nodding. "The Elven Queen's gems."

She nodded, resting a hand on Revan's shoulder. "I was also there for the discussion between Revan, Thorin and Thranduil. There is an army of Gundabad and Moria orcs headed our way, and they have pledged their help in return for these gems.

"Those gems-" angrily began Gloin, but Balin cut him off

"Were wrongfully withheld by Thrór. Thorin himself admitted as much," the elderly dwarf chastened.

Hanriel put her head in her hands at the thought of everything that would come next. "Mahal help us," she muttered, and felt a hand on her shoulder.

"We're going to need someone a bit stronger than Mahal, love," Revan replied, sitting up.

"You knew I had the gems?" Revan asked after the company had left.

"Sweetheart, I've been bringing you food and walking your half-starved self to the loo for every day this past week. I found everything."

Revan seemed to tense up at the words. "Everything?" she asked.

Hanriel nodded; she'd found the strange, light-emitting box within the folds of Revan's robes on the first day, and the gems not long after. She considered asking Revan about them, but let Revan have her privacy, just glad that she was back. In fact-

"Owww," Revan said, rubbing her arm where Hanriel had punched it.

"Don't ever do that to me again. You scared me." she glowered, but when Revan laughed, she couldn't help herself but do the same.

"I won't, love."

How could Revan explain that her memories of her previous life had returned with a vengeance? They were part of the reason she'd been comatose the past week. How could she even ask for the forgiveness which Hanriel so easily gave? All she could do was stare into her girlfriend's beautiful green eyes and smile.

They sat there in silence, hands clasped between them, blissfully gazing into each other's eyes, only interrupted when the youngest of the dwarves made fake gagging noises behind them. Unperturbed by the icy blue and steely grey pairs of eyes, Kili grinned at them.

"Thorin's better. He wants to see the both of you," he said.

"All right, up you," Hanriel said to Revan, rolling her way out of bed. "I've got robes for us. Oh, also, Bifur found something for you down in the treasure hall. It's not my taste, but here," she said as Revan pulled on the robes she'd offered, and paused at the sight of the mask. Instead of simply taking it, Revan paused, looked down at her robes and up at the darkened ceiling.

"Really? Really? I was just having fun with the name and the swords." Shaking her head, she snatched the mask from Hanriel's hands and tossed it on the bed, the sharp red and black lines catching the light.

The two left the room, dousing the lights as they left.

Revan didn't even need the light when she came back and got the helmet, feeling it's sharp edges.

"Hello, Revan," she said, tucking the bulky thing into a pocket of her robes.