((A/N: Sorry it's so short, life got in the way and then I realized the chapter I was writing would make a hell of a lot more sense later on in the story... Anyway, enjoy and give me all the feedback!))

It takes almost a week to reach the next town, mainly because she's still weak and the brothers seem intent on fulfilling their promise to reforge Nightmare. She follows them for the sense of safety she craves, and for curiosity as to why she trusts them so implicitly. When she accidentally stumbles over a branch, and one of them catches her, her skin doesn't crawl and her stomach doesn't churn at the touch. It takes until they first step into another town that the brothers realize exactly how deep her trust is.

Mara has been here before, with Papa. She remembers the press of people, flinching away from anyone who gets too near like she does now. Like she doesn't do around the men she travels with today. She grips Nightmare so had that his rusted blade cuts into her fingers and a dribble of blood slides down his blade. Mara doesn't notice the pain until later, when they get to the room they rented at the local pub and she's out of sight. Then she flexes her fingers with a frown, noting the rusted red-brown of dried blood crusting them.

Fili and Kili have disappeared downstairs, taking Nightmare with them. They've gone to find the forge, look it over and see how long it'll take to melt Nightmare's steel down and remake the blade. Kili had given her a knife when they took Nightmare, it's simplistic but beautiful. It's sharper than Nightmare has ever been, she tested the edge the moment Kili had given it to her. She inspects the knife the way she's inspecting her feelings, poking and prodding the strange lightness within her. The room feels too big without the brothers light-hearted voices filling the space. Every creak and footstep make her jump, until she gives up and crawls under the bed like a child hiding from a monster. She cradles the knife like that same child would hug a doll or other toy, and lets her eyes fall closed. Her dream that night isn't a nightmare, or really a dream, but a memory that boils to the surface of her mind.

"It'll be alright," he whispers, leaning in to kiss her. She tells herself that she loves him, even as the touch of his palm on her cheek feel like sandpaper. He has to lean down to kiss her, the Halfling heritage in her blood bred true. It feels like kissing a fish's side when his lips meet hers, his sandpaper hands groping at her breasts, down her back to grab her ass and pull her flush against him. When she stiffens, he mistakes it for chastity. Her pulls away, smiles down at her. "I'll speak to your father tomorrow, I'm sure he'll give his blessing."

Mara doesn't let the doubt show in her smile. "Until tomorrow then." His lips brush hers once more, and then he's gone. He never talks to her again after that night. When she reaches for him to ask why, he will spit at her. His eyes will reflect the same fear and hatred as everyone else Papa has told about her little secret. It won't hurt as much as she will expect, even as he curses her name. She'd known in the back of her mind this would happen. When Papa finds her bundling her belongings together he backhands her across the face, and while she lies on the floor he cracks the leather belt across her back. She doesn't make a sound.

She wakes from the memory when the door opens. She lies very still, tears dripping onto the dusty wood she's lying on. The bed above her creaks, boots dropping to the floor. Kili complains about the smell of his brother's feet and she bites her cheek to keep from laughing. The pain from her dream is burning away like mist in the sun. The brothers discard armor and weaponry in untidy piles on either side of the bed, continuing a conversation they'd started before entering the room.

~/~/~/

"D'you think that story was true?" Fili turns to look at his brother.

"Which one? Most of the drunks downstairs were telling stories."

"The one about the warg." He can hear nervousness in his brother's voice and he doesn't blame him. The smell of dwarven blood is enough to send an entire pack into a frenzy. The attack they suffered as children is proof of that. He scoffs at the idea anyway.

"I doubt it. Maybe one got lost and just wandered through, that'd be believeable. But the fact that a child stared it down and scared it off? Bullshit."

Kili laughs, "Thorin probably could've. You remember that time we lost his dagger?" Fili shudders at the memory. It hadn't even been their uncle's favorite dagger, but the fact it had been lost made the older dwarf… irritable. "I thought he was going to skin us where we stood." The brothers laugh at the memory. Thorin's fearsome scowl was enough to scare away an entire warg pack.

"Where do you think Mara's gone off to?" The question comes out of nowhere, until Fili realizes he's been wondering the same thing.

"She can't have gone to far, the only reason she's still with us is because of that sword. She wouldn't have left without it."

"I hope she stays, even after with reforge it." Fili looks at his brother, who shrugs.

"I like her. She's amusing and fun when she loosens up. And she almost skewered me when we were fighting the other day. If she can learn to control her arm, she'd be someone I wouldn't want to tangle with." He glances sideways at his brother. "She cooks better than you too."

Fili gasped in mock offense. "See if I ever cook for you again. You can just eat your meals raw from now on."

Kili laughs and blows out the light.