(?-?)

He knew he wasn't supposed to be here. This garden had been forbidden to all for over 1500 years. Well it wasn't much of a garden anymore. No life ever grew there. Whatever was planted died almost immediately. However, he still sometimes came here. To think. To cry. Whatever. The place gave him some perspective. On life. On the cruelties of the world.

Normally he would simply stand in the middle of it, surrounded by death and decay. His thoughts would drift, often to unsavoury spaces. But this was one of the only places he allowed himself to do that. The only place he knew he'd be truly alone. The only living thing.

But tonight he wasn't the only living thing. A single shoot, green and full of life, was there. Right in the middle of the garden. Where he usually stood. Bathing in the early morning sun. Alive. A plant had grown after so long of nothing.

He nearly fell over when he saw it. Too overcome with a nameless emotion. For a second he couldn't even breathe.

What did it mean?

Leah

The next few days played out pretty much the same. We trekked through sprawling landscapes and rested in the evening. I helped out Bombur with his cooking each night as well. He was happy for the help. The training with Dwalin got harder as he pushed me to try new things. I nearly squealed in excitement when I successfully parried for the first time.

Kili even offered to teach me archery. Which I accepted within a heartbeat.

We found an area on the edge of camp and Kili handed me his bow. It was a deep mahogany colour with dwarven designs etched into the wood. There was a decent weight to it and I could tell that it was good quality.

"It was my Adad's," Kili said as I inspected it. "He taught me to use it when I grew an interest in archery."

The image of an older dwarf teaching young Kili how to shoot a bow warmed my heart and brought a smile to my face.

"Right, you need to hold it like this," Kili guided my hands so that I was holding the bow properly.

It was the same way I'd been taught previously by outdoor camp instructors, so I wasn't starting from scratch. He handed me an arrow and showed me how to nock it. It was a lot different than the practice arrows with foam fletching I was used to though. The wood was sanded smooth and the feathers tickled my fingertips. I also had to tilt the bow to the right slightly so the arrow wouldn't slip down.

"Now draw the string up to your cheek and keep your elbow up," instructed Kili.

I did what he said. My arms strained under the pressure of the bowstring. A lot of strength was required to draw back the bow string. Just as I was about to fire, my mind was assaulted by more random visions.

The arrow shot out of my bow, flying artfully through the air, until it completely missed the target completely and embedded itself into a tree. My bottom lip pushed out into a pout. Why couldn't I get this right?

"You know you're supposed to hit the target, right Li?"

I turned to the side to see my brother standing next to me. A stupid smug grin on his face. He'd hit the target twice now and I'd managed to miss all of them. It wasn't fair.

"Oh shut up, Lassie," Lassie was a new word I had learned and I knew it drove my brother mad.

My brother's face scrunched up with annoyance "I'm not a Lassie. I'm an Ellon. Nana tell her."

Nana must have appeared when I wasn't looking. She now stood behind me with her arms crossed and giving me a 'look'.

"Liriel, what have I told you about annoying your brother?" said Nana.

I looked down still pouting "Not to," I muttered. "But he started it."

The shock of the sudden vision made my hand slip and the arrow careened off into the trees. The scene dissolved and I blinked it out of my vision. My heartbeat rose in pitch, so loud it was all I could hear.

That was my brother, alive and exactly as I remembered him, even down to the pitch of his voice and the hair that had started to grow past his shoulders. Then there was Mum, looking like she hadn't aged.

Why was my mind throwing me these images of a life I had not lived?

"I'm sorry. I'll go and find the arrow," I breathed, trying to keep my voice even.

Kili did not look convinced. His eyebrows drew together as he noticed the worried undercurrent to my words. A hand reached out before I could wander in search of the fallen arrow. "Hey, what's wrong? "

I considered lying, an excuse lingered on the tip of my tongue but the look in Kili's eyes stopped me. Earnest and concerned. Kili would not judge me for this. "I don't know what it is but it keeps happening,"

"What keeps happening, Leah?" he implored "Tell me, please."

I took a deep breath to steady my heart. "I keep seeing things. Like memories, but they aren't mine. But it feels like they are. It's confusing," I buried my head in my hands.

"What do you mean?" Kili asked, pulling my hands from my face.

"The other day when I first got the horse I had a weird vision thing. It was a memory of my dad teaching me how to ride a horse. But my dad never taught me that and somehow I can now ride one," I said. "And then it just happened again. I saw me and my brother shooting arrows. We looked about 5, both arguing with each other. I know it never happened but at the same time it felt so real."

A sting pricked at the corner of my eyes. I was almost desperate for them to be real. That way I would have more memories of my lost family, even if they were some kind of hallucination.

"In all of them, my family had pointy ears, like they were elves. I feel like I'm going mad." I said.

Kili grabbed my face with both hands. "You are not mad. We'll figure this out don't worry."

We made camp at the top of a rocky outcrop. A forest stretched out below us, shrouded in shadow. Unnecessarily ominous if you asked me. The ponies had to be hitched securely so they didn't wander over the edge in the night. I sat next to Kili by a large rock face. It felt good to lean my back against something after a long day's ride.

Bilbo wandered over to his pony, looking very conspicuous and obviously hiding something in his hand. It turned out to be an apple that he must have hoarded. Something niggled at the back of my mind at the gesture. This felt familiar. If I was correct in guessing there would be a–

A sharp, guttural screech split through the otherwise silent night.

There it was.

The sound sent all my nerve endings on edge. The hairs on the back of my neck rose and an overwhelming sense of danger zinged across my skin, carving a path like raking claws. I grit my teeth to stop the hum of panic from slipping between my lips. My reaction was unexpected, unfounded and profoundly terrifying. I had no idea where this ingrained fear had appeared from. If I reacted this way to a simple sound, what on earth was I going to do when I saw an orc in the flesh?

"What was that?" Bilbo said, hurrying over to the centre of the group.

"Orcs," said Kili, a strong urgency in his voice. His eyes darted around, searching for the source but ultimately came up empty. When his hand drifted towards his bow, I reached out and took it instead, squeezing tightly. With a small smile, I assured him that we were okay, no orc attacks tonight. He visibly relaxed, shoulders slumping back down.

"Orcs?" asked Bilbo

"They steal into campsites at night, killing as they go," said Fili. He gave Kili an odd look when he realised that his brother wasn't playing along with his joke.

"Do you think an orc attack is something to make light of?" said Thorin, suddenly behind Bilbo.

Fili's eyes widened and he shook his head "No Uncle. Of course not."

Thorin shook his head, jaw tight. "You need to learn more about the world," he said as he turned to walk away.

Fili shrank beneath Thorin's disappointment.

Balin walked over to us, ready to comfort Fili. "Don't be too down laddie. There are more reasons for your uncle to hate orcs than most. After the mountain was lost King Thror tried to reclaim the kingdom of Moria. But we were too slow and our enemy had gotten to it first. A huge legion of orcs with a vile leader. Azog the defiler."

Kili flinched at the name.

"A Gundabad Orc dead set on ending the line of Durin. The first thing he did was behead the King. Thrain, your grandfather, was driven mad by grief. He went missing and no one knew if he was taken prisoner or killed."

I inhaled sharply, hand twitching in Kili's grip. He gave me a look out of the corner of his eyes but I diligently ignored it, focusing on keeping my face blank.

Thrain was alive.

Yes he was imprisoned in Dol Guldur with Sauron, his ring of power stolen and he was slowly going mad, but he was alive.

Could Thrain be saved? Gandalf will eventually run into him but he is unable to rescue the dwarf. Overwhelmed by enemy forces Gandalf will be captured himself and Thrain will die. But if Gandalf was warned, if he waited for reinforcements before braving the necromancer, Thrain may be saved. Thorin could get his dad back. My mind spun just thinking about it.

"Thorin stood alone against the pale orc with no armour and only an oaken branch as a shield. Our army rallied and drove all the orcs back. And the enemy was defeated. But no songs were sung that night for our grief was too great. Only us few had survived. I thought to myself, that there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call king."

Balin's big speech was over and all eyes were on Thorin. He held his head up, still looking regal despite all the weight of everyone's eyes. It hurt to think of all that Thorin had lost.

"What happened to Azog?" asked Bilbo, the only one brave enough to say anything.

"That filth succumbed to his wounds long ago," said Thorin, turning back away from everyone.

Kili and I shared a knowing look.

My dreams got worse. If they weren't nightmares, then they were those weird not-memory things. Snapshots of a life I had not lived yet felt real within these new bones of mine. It was like this body remembered something that I didn't, hidden muscle memories and glimpses of a past that could not exist. Had I taken over the body of someone else when I arrived here? Stealing flashes of their life and twisting them into versions of my own?

But my body felt like me . Now that I had settled in my new skin, it felt right, even familiar somehow.

One time I woke up still half asleep, gave Kili a sleepy smile and said "Man erin, cin post eithel?"

Kili's eyebrows drew together and a confused smile spread across his face. "What was that?"

I drew my eyebrows together. The words and meanings were clear as day. My mind registered no inaccuracy or inconsistencies.

"I said good morning and did you sleep well," I repeated with a huff.

"You most certainly did not," Kili laughed "That was gibberish."

"No, it wasn't," I said, defensive.

"It was not gibberish Kili. She was asking you in Sindarin," said Gandalf, sitting a few feet away. He was giving me quite a perplexed look.

"What? But I don't know Sindarin," Sindarin was an elf language. Just because I got turned into one shouldn't mean that I could now speak it.

"It would seem some part of your mind does," he said, his quizzical gaze never leaving me.

My cheeks heated up under his stares and I broke eye contact.

Nearly two weeks had gone by since we left Bilbo's house. I tried to keep my spirits up but outdoor camping with few supplies was gruelling. It didn't help that the heavens opened up and barely stopped for several days. I was cold, I was wet and I was miserable. The cloak Fili and Kili had bought me was being thrown into the deep end, almost literally with how much water was falling on us. Fortunately, things in this world were built to last and the cloak was doing its job.

So that led me to be miserably plodding along on my horse. The other members of the company also seemed to be at their wits end with the elements. Poor Bilbo didn't even have a hood.

"Gandalf, is there anything you can do about this infernal weather?" asked a very sodden Dori.

"The rain will continue until it is done, Master dwarf. If you want someone who can control the weather of this world you must consult another wizard," said Gandalf, clearly annoyed by the question.

"Are there other wizards?" Bilbo asked, his interest piqued.

Gandalf turned to gaze at Bilbo before answering "Yes, there are. Five of us in total. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White."

My nose crinkled and my lips turned downwards at the mention of Saruman's name. He might not be an arsehole yet but give it 60 years and he'll be a grade-A prick.

"Then there are the two Blue Wizards," Gandalf continued "Though I cannot recall their names"

Seriously? There were only five of them. You would think they would know each other's names. "Alatar and Pallando. I think they're called," I added. "They help with problems in the East."

Gandalf's eyes lit up with the information. "Oh yes, yes. You're quite right my dear. That is their names, I remember now. Good to hear that they are still being helpful," he smiled "Yes and the final Wizard is Radagast the Brown."

"Is he a good wizard?" asked Bilbo. He blinked rapidly as a drop of water splashed into his eye.

"I believe he is a great one. Though he prefers the company of animals to other races. He protects a great forest to the east. A good thing too as Evil is always trying to find a foothold in this world."

Thankfully, the rain finally eased off as it got closer to evening. Finally being vaguely dry after being soaked for so long felt nice. We followed a small path until we came to an open field. Everyone began hopping off their ponies, ready to make camp for the night. However, instead of following suit, my hands tightened on the reins. The ruins of a small farmhouse sat at the end of the field and I knew what that meant.

Fucking Trolls.