A.N. This week has been nothing short of insane. We've been house hunting after the house we were in got sold, got approved for our fourth application, and moved two days later. Roller coaster of emotions, and I'm not even done with it yet. I'm a country girl who's moved to the suburb, so my heart is absolutely breaking for my acreage, mountains, and forests. However, our new house is much better than the old one (though I loved the old one anyway). The kids adore the stairs, and we have bigger rooms than before. So, I'll count my blessings. ^_^ One day, I'll make it back to my mountains.
Anyway, thank you to all of you who have read this story thus far, and especially to those following, and the fav! I appreciate that more than you'll ever know.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters and plot points.

Danica doubted she'd ever been so sore in her life. They rode during the day, and she trained for hours at night. Dwalin had been tough with drills, but Thorin was brutal with sparring. It wasn't difficult to think about, because he'd call out positions, but it began to go faster and faster. She became so fatigued, that she couldn't keep hold of the sword when he struck, and her gloves were slightly too big, which gave her wicked blisters. Thorin would criticize her until she was angry enough to strike back. Only then would he stop for the night. Her arms, back, and hands would be screaming in the morning, but she could already feel her body toning. It also helped her mental state, which had been one of her main concerns the first night she'd arrived. Gandalf still smoked for her every night, but sometimes she didn't need it because she fell asleep the moment she laid down. More than once, she'd fallen asleep on Fili or Kili's shoulder.

The day they came upon a little farmhouse, her stomach plummeted. Trolls. But the closer they got, the more she realized something was off. Nothing was destroyed. In fact, the farm was up and running. A child was playing with a couple of chickens while his mother put some laundry on the line. Hearing their approach, the mother called for her father, and the child ran to hide behind his mother's skirts. An older man came out from behind the house, wiping his hands on an apron. It appeared as though he'd been butchering something.

"Hello to you, strangers," the farmer greeted. "We do not see many travelers along this part of the road anymore. Have you lost your way?"

"No," Gandalf answered pleasantly. "Merely looking for a quiet place to rest for the night. My name is Gandalf,"

The farmer's eyes widened. "Gandalf the Grey? I have heard of you, Sir. We do not have much, but you are welcome here, and at my table. This is my daughter, Ainsley, and grandson, Dunstan,"

Ainsley curtseyed with a smile, but she looked overwhelmed. Other introductions were made, and then the farmer began showing them where they could leave the ponies, and where they would be sleeping. Both Danica and Bombur offered to help Ainsley with dinner, since there were so many of them. She gratefully accepted. As they prepared some vegetables, Danica's mind worked fast. If the trolls hadn't arrived yet, it wouldn't be too much longer before they did. She couldn't just drop the bomb on them and tell them to leave, but they needed to get them out somehow. Hopefully the same time the Company left. She'd have to speak to Gandalf about it. He would know how to tell them, and get them out.

"Lass. Time to go over some drills," Dwalin called from the doorway.

Giving Ainsley an apology, Danica resignedly followed Dwalin outside.

Per the usual pattern, she ran drills with Fili and Dwalin, learning a little hand-to-hand first. She did pretty well with these exercises, as they reminded her of dance choreography. Slowly but surely, she was gaining more confidence in her fighting abilities. Well, until she had to cross blades with Thorin.

"Dani, can I ask you something?" Fili asked as they took a quick water break. He sat beside her on a log while Dwalin and Thorin talked quietly nearby.

"Sure. What's up?" at his blank look, she laughed. "Right, language barrier. Sorry. What did you want to know?"

"You train harder than almost anyone I've ever met, and we often have to stop you from training too long. Why is that? Are you doing it to prove something?"

Her heart beat a little faster, but she just gave a casual smile. "No. Well, kind of. Honestly, I've always been that way when I set my mind to something. If I got involved in a particular job or project in my world, I could go all day forgetting to eat, and wouldn't sleep much. But yes, I do want you all to see that I'm working hard to get better,"

Fili smiled warmly, and put a hand on hers. "You don't need to prove that. We can all see how hard you are working. Besides, what good would you be if you overexerted yourself?"

"Fair point," her next words were paired with a pointed look. "It all has to do with our conversation the other night,"

He nodded, eyes clearly understanding what she meant. "Were you trying to prove something when you were younger?"

The question took away her easy façade. She hadn't expected him to see through her that well. However, she sighed, not wanting to hide from him when he was so earnest. Besides, she'd already shared so much with him.

"Yes. For a while, growing up, my family saw me as lazy, and I was always compared to my older sister, who was an over-achiever. As we got older, our roles began to switch, except she turned mean and cruel. Even as I began to achieve things, I was always worried people would still think of me as lazy, or begin to liken any bad behavior to my sister's,"

To her surprise, Fili chuckled. "Well, that is simply not possible. You are the sweetest person I have ever met, and clearly not lazy. You shouldn't worry so much about pleasing everyone else. All you have to do is be yourself to be adored,"

"I think you have had a long enough break," Thorin said then, moving away from Dwalin. Danica stood, but looked down at Fili, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Thanks for caring,"

His warm smile turned charming, and he gave her a wink. "Anytime,"

Laughing, she grabbed her sword and faced Thorin. She would try to hold on to the happiness Fili had given her as she sparred with his uncle.

Everyone else had gone into the house to help Ainsley make dinner, looking nervously back at Thorin and the girl. The last two training sessions had scared away any onlookers. Thorin could sense some of their disapproval, but was resolute. The girl stood across from him, jaw set and shoulders squared. He had to admire her determination and courage, but thought back to hers and Fili's conversation. She wouldn't back down, no matter what. He tried not to let himself feel too concerned about that, but his nephew had been right about the risk of overexertion. It would likely be up to him to keep an eye on her. Not speaking, they started in on simple drills, and he could tell her muscles were fatigued, likely from how hard she'd been working. Her arms buckled under the slightest blow, and the sword kept slipping from her grip. When he had knocked it away from her for the eighth time, he growled in frustration.

"You will never get better if you don't even try,"

Grimacing, she removed her gloves, then picked up her sword and took her stance, but it was weak. With no trouble at all, he batted her sword away again.

"Try again,"

Same effort, same result.

"Again," his voice became firmer, and her frown grew deeper.

She managed to keep hold of it for two blows before it was once again on the ground.

"Again!" he yelled.

"Enough!" sword forgotten on the ground, she stood straight and glared at him.

The moon had just risen, the light catching her silver eyes in their fury. A few errant strands had escaped from her braids that she wore during training, framing her face. For one, insane moment, he felt a surge of attraction. He shoved it down, and glowered.

"Pick up your sword,"

"I won't. I know you want me to learn to fight, but I can't get better with you doing nothing but criticizing me! This is new to me, and I am giving it all I have, but it will take a little time. Do you think I want to be a burden? That I want to die on this quest, or worse, be the cause of someone else's death? I- "she stopped, looking down at the ground suddenly. He could see her fighting against some emotion, but didn't know what. When she moved to pick up the sword, he held up a hand.

"I think we're done for the night," he said softly.

She nodded, and quickly turned to go inside, never looking at him. Her words were still echoing in his head, and he began to realize just how hard he'd been on her. So much for keeping an eye on her. Sighing, he went to grab her sword, and noticed the hilt gleaming strangely in the moonlight. As he bent closer to it, he realized it was blood. Guilt sat heavy in his stomach, making it sick. Her hands must have blistered and bled, but she had continued to try without uttering a word. Knowing what he now had to do, he cleaned off the hilt, and followed her inside.

The anger and frustration flowing through her were the only things distracting her from the stinging pain in her hands. However, the first thing she did when she got in the house was go to Oin, who sat in a corner by the fire, and quietly show him her hands, her plea for help and discretion plain in her expression. At first, he looked concerned, mouth open to say something, but once he saw the look on her face, he nodded, and rose.

"Come on, Lass. We should rinse these outside,"

Having heard that, Ainsley turned to them with a smile. "There's a well out in back that you can use,"

Oin and Danica expressed their thanks and went out, passing Thorin as he was coming in. Danica kept her gaze down, not wanting to look at him. Some of the anger had faded, leaving her embarrassed that she had yelled at him, and afraid of what his thoughts of her were now. Why was it that they just couldn't seem to get along?

"Alright Lass, I'm afraid this will sting a bit,"

That was an understatement. She hissed as the water struck her hands, feeling the torn pieces of her palm pull back and expose the raw layers beneath. Oin took out some clean cloth, and had her hold it while he sorted out balms and fresh bandages.

"Let me," Thorin walked over to them, kneeling next to where Oin had set balms. "Oin, I can bring these back to you when we are finished,"

Sensing the dismissal, Oin patted Danica on the arm, and then walked back into the house. Danica remained still, sitting on the edge of the well. Her hands were shaking, but she wasn't sure if it was from the pain, or the nerves. It may have been neither, judging by the tears prickling her eyes, but she wasn't going to have a meltdown in front of Thorin Oakenshield.

"When did your parents see your sister's cruelty?" he asked as he dabbed ointment on her blisters.

"Not until we were teenagers" she flinched a little at the sting, and tried to ignore how close he was.

"And yet you seem to have forgiven them, despite their years of neglect,"

"I did, oddly enough. It helped that they…wait. I never mentioned that I felt them neglectful. Only once in my life have I said that to anyone,"

Well shit. He had meant to just tend to her hands and apologize, but had dropped his guard, and said too much. She was staring at him, waiting for him to explain. Before moving on to the inevitable, he tried to wrap her hands. Her eyes suddenly widened, and she pulled her hands back.

"It was you. Your voice is the one I've heard. How could I forget?" she looked away for a moment, then shot an intense look back at him. "How long have you known?"

There was no point in lying, even if he wanted to. "Your voice was familiar the first time I heard it, but I didn't fully remember until a few days ago,"

"And you didn't think to tell me?!" she jumped to her feet, and he had to fight the urge to growl in frustration. "Neither did you act any differently,"

The last part had been said softly, like an afterthought. Standing also, he set the bandages on the well, and crossed his arms.

"How else should I have acted?" he questioned. "We spoke once, when we were both much younger. That was a lifetime ago. You may have some knowledge of my life, but we are practically strangers. So, tell me; how else should I have acted?"

For a moment, she just watched him, eyes narrowed, hands still shaking. "With some kindness," heaving a sad sigh, she turned and began walking away.

"Where are you going?" he called, not moving, but feeling his gut clench at her words.

"For a walk," she called back.

Giving a sigh of his own, he took a couple steps forward. "You should at least get your hands bandaged first,"

She stopped, and he knew she was struggling with her pride. However, she did end up walking back, and sat on the well. Neither of them spoke as he gently wrapped her hands. Every time she flinched, he felt worse. She was still visibly upset, and trying very hard to hide any weakness or emotion. When he finished, she gave a small, "Thank you," and walked away before he could say another word. He watched her until she went to the stables. Grabbing the little jars, he made his way back to the house.

"Damn woman," he muttered. No matter how this all turned out, he would never forgive Gandalf for bringing her.

"Where's the lass?" Oin asked when Thorin gave him the ointments.

"She went for a walk," he responded gruffly, accepting a bowl of stew from Bofur.

"Shouldn't someone be with her?" Bilbo asked concernedly.

Kili shrugged a shoulder. "She'll be fine. Gandalf will likely return soon,"

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked with a frown.

"He left a while ago," Kili said around a mouthful.

Thorin shook his head. "Wizards,"

Bilbo grabbed another bowl, and began making his way toward the door. "I'm going to find Dani and make sure she gets something to eat,"

His next step faltered as a slight tremor ran through the house, and then another. Everyone had gone deathly quiet, except for the little boy, who whimpered as he clung to his mother.

"Everyone needs to get out," Thorin whispered as the tremors got louder and stronger.

"What is it?" the farmer asked fearfully.

A scream cut the air, followed by a huge, deep laugh. Thorin was already running, but behind him, he heard Balin say one word.

"Trolls,"