Disclaimer: I don't own any familiar characters, and or anything pertaining to the world of the Hobbit. All, but my ocs, are owned by J.R.R Tolkien (who probably hates us for doing this to his work).

Chapter 25

Durin's Day Pt. 1

Her foot felt the crunch of snow under her shifting weight. The icy air pricking at her bare arms. She could see her own breathe dancing into a cloud in front of her face. Distant screams echoed off snow cover walls. The clashing of metal and the cries of war surrounding the valley she found herself in. Above her, at the valley's head, roared a blood curling noise. Her head snapped to meet the black void eyes of an Orc. She had never seen one before, but she could guess that's what he was. His grey skin looking even more sickening in the stormy lights of the sky above. A malicious sneer curled on his scarred face as his eyes met hers. He turned his back reaching for something behind him, disappearing over the lip of the stone.

"Fili!" A voice cried from the top of the valley behind her.

She twisted to see a disheveled Thorin calling above her. His eyes set with worry and dread as he stared the Orc.

"Let him go, Azog!" Thorin pleaded.

She could hear his voice crack with desperation. She followed his frantic graze, Magdalen's heart caught in her throat when she saw Fili fighting the Orc's grasp. Azog roared something she couldn't understand holding Fili out in the air. His legs twisted and turning as he tried to escape. The orc laughed pointing his sword at Thorin. He hissed something in his orcish tongue before burying the sword into Fili's shoulder. His screams cut through the air as Azog let go of him dropping him into a lump in front of her. Magdalen couldn't hear her own screams, but she felt like she was. Her feet were cemented to the ground as she desperately tried to get to Fili as his blood seeped into the snow.

Fili turned his head meeting Magdalen's gaze.

"Magdalen." His voice was airy.

"Fili, please don't leave me…. Please stay with me." She cried.

Panic set in her chest, her movements were frantic. She needed to get to him. Her heart pounded as she watched his blood draining into the valleys of the snow. The crimson liquid dying the skin of her feet. The heavy weight that had kept her in her spot release. Her stomach churned, she spun from Fili's body only to come face to face with Kili. She stumbled into Kili's grasp, only to find him pushing her away.

"Kili," she stared at him in shock, reaching up to cup his cheek.

He caught her wrist in his hand, as he snarled down at her.

"You killed him! You killed him!" He repeated.

"Kili stop, listen to me! Stop!"

Magdalen shook her hand, trying to get Kili to release her. She froze watching as Kili's eyes rolled into the back of his head, blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

"You should have left…" He fell down in front of her. A single arrow buried into the center of his back. Magdalen felt her foot catch from under her as she stumbled back. Horror crept through her as she looked to her left to find the unmoving face of Dis.

"No… NO!" She screamed, tears pooling in her eyes.

Magdalen got to her feet running away the death that followed her. A fire burned in her chest, the laughter of the foul Orc filling the valley. She covered her ears trying to block out the vile noise.

All at once the sounded died down, slowly she slipped her hands away from ears. In the peace and quiet, a single voice called out to her.

"Magdalen." She froze at the sound of the familiar honeyed voice.

Her breathing slowed, she spun in her spot. There before her was a short woman, her hair was the color mirrored her own hair. The woman's pale skin made the forest green depths of her eyes shine brilliantly. A single tear glimmered down her round cheeks. She wore a black tank top, unfitted for the snow climate around them, and green cargo pants.

"Susan?" Magdalen's voice was gravelly.

The woman responded to the naming taking a step toward her, carefully eyeing Magdalen as if she were a ghost. She was there, her sister was there before her. Magdalen mimicked her movement cautiously moving toward her sister. When they were in reaching distances they both stopped. Magdalen stared at the woman in front of her.

Susan slowly reached out cupping Magdalen's check, her hands slipping up Magdalen's face tugging on her ear. Magdalen's heart fluttered. Her sister always did that after she did her hair.

"Susan…" She whispered enveloping her sister into a hug.

Susan let out a soft cry burying her face into Magdalen's hair. "I've missed you, Magdalen. Come home, please, come home."

Magdalen shook in her sister's grasp. "They are dead, Susan. I couldn't save them. I just want to go home."

She felt Susan's lips pressed into Magdalen's head. "I love you little bird," Susan whispered into her hair.

The weight of her sister wanned, her arms falling through where her sister had been.

XXX

Magdalen bolted upright, her chest was heaving and her blood was cold. The haunting lifeless faces of her Kili, Dis, and Fili danced in her mind. A chill crept her spine as the visions of death played in her eyes. She ran her hand through her tangled hair feeling the layer of sweat that had settled on her forehead and neck. She brought her hand to the base of her throat pressing her fingers around the pendant. It had been a dream, but it had also felt so real. Susan had felt real in her arms. Fili's screams echoed in her ears. Kili look of betrayal brought shame to her mind, though she had done nothing wrong. Then why do I feel like I failed them… all of them.

She threw her sheets off her slipping from the comforts of her bed walking over to her closet. Magdalen slid on her tunic and trousers stumbling around in the dark for her boots. Once locating them in the darkness of her bedroom she laced them up she shuffled out of her apartment. Letting her mind wander as she swiftly walked toward her destination. Erebor was eerily quiet, as it was in the early hours of the morning. A few guards pasted her without batting an eye in her direction, it wasn't an uncommon sight to see the human heading toward the training wing.

Like a machine, Magdalen marched over to the weaponry grabbing Kili's practice bow and quiver from the wall. Making her way to the shooting range, she set up her target. She needed to let off some steam. To clear her mind from the blood riddled dreams that had fueled her anxieties.

Her grip tightened around the bow as she released the first arrow. It whizzed into the side of the target missing the mark by a lot. She let out a frustrated grumble notching the next arrow, Magdalen pulled back with all of her strength letting the arrow fly toward the target again… And again it missed embedding itself into the other side of the target. Magdalen took out another arrow, and another, and then another. Each time missing the painted circles. Anger boiled in her chest, she began marching toward the target rapidly firing arrows at the bale as she closed in. Not once did she hit the middle. She let out a cardinal cry throwing the bow aside stepping toward the stationary target. Pulling out the knife she had on her hip, Magdalen began stabbing at the middle, the world around her blurring into a red vision. A guttural scream called from her chest as hay flew around her.

After a few jabs, she fell to her knees dropping the knife beside her. Magdalen mourned. She mourned for her friends, for her sister, for her life… She mourned for herself. She knew it was selfish but she would never see her home again. Magdalen would never see her world or the things she loved. She would never have another night at the bar with Emma or Felicity. She would never get to graduate college or get a job. She would never to get to Susan become the doctor she had always dreamed about being. Everything Magdalen had been working toward, the life she had created since her grandfather's passing was ripped away from her in the blink of an eye. And what for? Because some gods thought it was the perfect time to whisk her away to a different world.

Magdalen slammed her closed fist onto the floor. Her grandfather. Harion. A fit of unexpected anger bubbled in her chest. He had tried to tell them of his heritage throughout his life, sprinkling his love for Middle Earth into her childhood. Magdalen had written it off as his nerdish passion, but no it was his story. It was his life before he had come to Earth. And she had never really listened.

Would the dwarves hate her for her kinship to Harion? She had read his journal and knew he was regarded as a traitor for Lord Amrus's set up. Would they see her as a traiotr, would they send her away from Erebor? Questions that had flooded her mind all those months ago came racing back, this time with the illumination of recent revelations. Magdalen sat back on her knees dropping her head in a prayer position. She had no god to pray to, she only had herself to deal with her mounting anxiety.

Magdalen lifted her head hearing heavy footsteps nearing her. The shadow of a hulking dwarf was painted beside her. She didn't make an effort to face the dwarf, and she didn't care too. She wanted to be left alone.

"Get up, girlie," The voice of Dwalin called behind her.

She twisted her neck glancing at Dwalin's dark figure. Her eyes burned and were red with iration. Her face twisted into an unpleasant look at the captain.

"Go away, Dwalin." She snapped.

He didn't. Instead, his footsteps got closer until he was standing over her. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he reached down grabbing Magdalen's arm. His colossal hand wrapped around her upper arm tugging her onto her feet. Magdalen protested, beating him as he dragged her out of the shooting range.

"Get your hands off me." She barked trying to shake him.

Dwalin ignored her walking into the middle of the training arena. The lights above them were dim, causing the room to be filled with long shadows. She landed a closed fist on his upper arm as he released her throwing her into the dirt ring. Magdalen stumbled coming to stand in the middle of the fighting area. Dwalin turned on his heel as he stalked to the weaponry, looking over the various metals that decorated the wall. He reached forward picking up two matching short swords. Magdalen stood watching his movements, he tossed one of the short swords at her feet. She stared down at it in confusion.

"Pick it up." He commanded.

His voice did not waver. Magdalen looked up to see Dwalin in his fighting stance, two hands gripped around the hilt of the sword. Dwalin never let her fight him, not fully anyway. He had instructed her in her training and had allowed her to practice on his soldiers. But he had never fought her. Carefully Magdalen reached down picking up the weapon, studying it. He had trained her with the short sword, it was light and easily controlled.

"Get in your stance, I taught you better than that." He sneered impatiently waiting on her.

She glared at him as she took a step toward him. Her hand firmly on the sword, giving it a swing at her side as she rolled her muscle. Dwalin raised his eyebrow waiting for her attack. She circled him not watching as he readjusted to her movement. Without a noise of surprise, she made the first move, cutting her sword downward toward Dwalin's leg. He sprung his sword forward catching her weapon just in time. He grunted kicking her off with ease. Magdalen dodged Dwalin's blow, holding him off with her speed. Spinning around Magdalene's sword clashed with Dwalin's again. She noticed him holding back as his sword pushed against her own. Stepping aside letting Dwalin's sword fall she kicked his back.

"Stop acting like I'm going to break and fight me." She growled at him.

He looked over his shoulder, she was taken back by the glimmer of empathy in his eyes. Her eyes narrowed and her hand gripped the hilted sword painfully tightly. She looked away from Dwalin, bitting her lip. He stayed away from her catching his breath.

"So you heard?" She questioned.

He didn't answer. But she didn't need him to, she could see it in his eyes. She could see the pity written on his face. She didn't need his pity, she didn't need anyones. The sword stayed stationary at her side, she took a step toward him. Harion had mentioned Dwalin in his journal. They had known each other, surely he knew something about him, something that would help clear her clouded mind.

"You knew him… my grandfather, I mean?" Her voice was small and weak.

Her stormy eyes found his.

"He mentioned you in his journal." Magdalen continued.

Dwalin stood at his full height, picking up his sword studying the blade in his hand.

"I'm sure he did." She could hear the resentment in his voice.

She needed to ask him, she needed to understand who she had come from. Her stomach lurched at the sound of his hatred. Her head tilted, the floodgates in her mind held back the emotions brewing. She closed her eyes pulling the trigger.

"Do you believe he was guilty? That he was a traitor." She finally asked.

Silence.

She screamed in her mind, her fist knotting together. She swallowed the awful words she had for the captain. Her pointer finger pushed into his solid chest.

"Answer me." She demanded whispering so her words floated between them.

She clenched her fist punching his chest with all of her force.

"Answer me!" Her words echoing in the empty.

Still nothing.

"ANSWER"

Punch.

"ME!"

Punch.

He did not deter her from her beating, letting her actions calm before claming her hands. He brought her hands out pushing them together like iron cuffs.

"Yes, yes I do!" His eyes were wide and wild as he stared down at her.

Tears blurred in her eyes, she shook her head. No longer holding back the cries of pain. Her breathing became erratic. Magdalen got her hands freed sprinting from training arena, as she raced up the stairs a voice called behind her.

"Freya stop!" He screamed.

Magdalen stopped in her place turning to look down at Dwalin. Dwalin stared up at her in horror at what he had just said.

"Mag-" His hand reached forward.

She didn't know who Freya was, nor did she care. He hated her grandfather, he was traitor in Dwalin's eye. If her grandfather was a traitor, then so was she. Magdalen lifted her chin, her eyes cold.

"Have a good day, Mr. Dwalin."

XXX

Magdalen couldn't bring herself back to her apartment, the pain of her dreams still lingered there. So she found herself in the library, overlooking the grand foyer. Magdalen knew the mountain was waking, and Dis would be looking for her. The celebration of Durin's Day apparently was dusk till dawn. She could bring herself to face the princess. She just needed time.

She had picked up Harion's journal from the desk she shared with Or. She had been asked him a few questions about the stone Harion had mentioned in his journal. Now she sat on the edge of the outlook, where Ori had set up shop. Her feet dangling over the long drop from the third level of the library. Her hands roamed over the pages of her grandfather's story. The entries stopped after his time in the dungeons when King Thror had sentenced him to a life in mines of one of the mountains. She sighed setting the book at her side, she stared down at the golden floor of the library the statue of Thror taking the attention of the room.

"Are you going to jump?" A deep voice rumbled through the quiet room.

She glanced over her shoulder to find Thorin. He wore his signature blue tunic and fine furred coat. He bore no crown this morning. Even without it, he stilled looked kingly. She rolled her eyes at the king and then turned back at the grand floor.

"No, not this time." She shook her head gently.

Magdalen could hear Thorin shift behind her, she felt his shoulder brush hers as he came to sit beside her. His legs hung on the side beside her, his enormous square boots hitting the stone.

"What do you want, Thorin?" She said, irritated by the king's sudden appearance.

Apparently, no one in this knew when people just wanted to be left alone.

"Come to kick me out. Finally getting what you want" She jeered her eyes focusing on the details of the room.

Thorin didn't speak for a moment, picking up the book that sat between them. He flipped through the pages, taking in bits from the passages. He took note of the paragraphs written in khuzdul, understanding what she could not. He closed the book, running his fingers over the pressed leather.

Thorin sighed loudly, shaking his head.

"Miss Kathan, I'm not sending you away?"

Magdalen blinked. She knew Thorin had garnered some admiration for her since Rampur's attack, even accepting the Ur's claim on her. But that didn't mean he hadn't grown wearily of her stay.

"What?" She chocked.
Thorin smiled at her kindly. It was odd seeing the grumpy king look at her with such kindness, just like the day he had called her into his office.

"It would be unfair of me to send you out into a world that is unknown to you. With no one by your side. I can not do that to you. Nor would my company or family would let me do that to do. They've grown quite fond of you, for some reason." He chuckled thinking about the words Dis had spat at him and Gandalf after Magdalen left.

He didn't believe the wizard had looked so frightened in his life. Thorin had already settled in his mind that the girl was going to stay with them after the wizard revealed her origins. Not only had she given so much to the kingdom and his family. She was their kin, her grandfather had been a dwarf. She was a dwarf, and dwarves never left their families to fend for themselves.

"Bu Harion was banished from Erebor. Dwalin thinks he was a traitor, why would you want the granddaughter of a traitor here ?" Her voice shook as she spoke,

It left him with an uneasy feeling seeing the girl look so lost and sad. She had been a beacon of life and laughter in his mountain. She had brought out such fire in his friends, in his family. Half of his company practically worshipped the ground she walked on. He hadn't seen Dwalin so protective over anyone since his nephews were mischievous dwarfling. Kili and Dis regarded her as family. Bofur and Poppy loved her so much that they had made her family. And Fili would do anything for the girl, just to make her happy.

"Because like me, you are not made by your grandfather's choices." He said in earnest.

Thorin stood up from the ledge, opening his hand to Magdalen. She stared at it for a moment before slipping her hand into his. He lifted her up making her look into his eyes.

"Magdalen Kathan, you are welcomed in my kingdom so long as you want to be."

Her eyes shined up at him. A pang of guilt ran through her, she didn't want to be welcomed in the kingdom. She wanted to be welcomed home, but that was impossible. She bowed her head whipping away a tear from her cheek.

"Thank you, Thorin." She whispered.

"Now come, I believe my sister will be looking for you. I don't wish to be on my sister's bad side on this day." Thorin teased.

She looked back down at the lower level, maybe she could jump. Thorin sighed taking hold of her shoulders making her grey eyes meet his. Her eyes were so red and filled with sorrow that he could feel her sadness seeping into his soul.

"Miss Kathan, home is behind you and the world is in front of you. I promise you will always be safe in my halls."

Much to his surprise, a small smile played on her lips, using the sleeve of her tunic she whipped away the liquid from her face.

"You got that from Gandalf." She teased quietly.

Thorin dropped his head, chuckling. He had come to learn why so many of his dwarves adored her.

"Yes, yes I did. Come on Miss Kathan, we have a party to attend."

Part two coming to you soon!